The Galactic Hot Mama Incubators

Nokix

On the planet Granmodrx, Nokix Vlyndlz received a summons from the High Priest Haxit. With a groan, he laid down his fishing rod and released his catch back into the crystal-clear pink water. “You live to swim another day,” he muttered, watching the largest fish jump out of the water before disappearing into the deep.

He turned his vessel back toward the shore. Was it too much to ask for one day of peace and quiet? He knew he should have left his communication device back at his dwelling. But no, he had to be responsible. Always on call.

Now look where that got him. Heading back into the field, he assumed. He’d just returned from his fourth mission. And if the High Priest was already summoning him, it was, once again, a failure.

He kicked a yellow rock off the path. It was always a failure. He knew the other units were fairing just as badly as his team. They had to be nearing the end of the options. What would become of Granmodrx if they all failed? He couldn’t think like that. Failure wasn’t an option, he told himself as he entered his dwelling.

Nokix quickly changed out of his lounging garments and stepped into the washing unit, relishing the fresh water. So different than the cleaning agent they utilized on the spaceship with its chemical properties that relied on air movement without water. While he couldn’t deny that method cleaned just as well, there was just something satisfying about the feel of water droplets on his skin.

He didn’t have time to waste. The High Priest was waiting, and he got very agitated if left too long. Reluctantly, he began to dress in his professional garments. Dark pants with a slit in the back for his tail and his favorite purple form-fitting shirt - made from a material that automatically regulated his temperature depending on what planet he ended up on. He pulled on his sturdy combat boots, although he wouldn’t actually see any combat. He was a commanding scientist, for star’s sake, not a warrior. But he never knew what the terrain would be like, and it was always better to have sturdy footwear on his journeys.

Nokix took a deep breath. He could do this. He had to do this. He wasn’t a coward. He was a Granmodrn. He could walk past the wailing females to reach the High Priest. With one more exhale and inhale, he opened the door of his transportation vessel.

The noise was immediate. Hundreds upon hundreds of wailing voices. The sound echoed off the surrounding buildings, amplifying their cries.

Nokix felt tears forming in his own eyes. The anguish. Gods, the anguish. The desire to cover his ears and run was strong. But he owed it to the females to endure. To show them that they were heard.

He forced himself to begin the long walk through the wailing wall. Thankfully, the walk took him on a platform towering above. Unfortunately, the platform was made from a clear material, so as he walked across, he was able to clearly see the multitudes of females huddled down below. Some had their hands stretched toward the heavens, some lay supine on the ground. Others were leaning on one another. Others still were simply holding their empty bellies.

So many females. Not a youngling born since Nokix's childhood. They came here to the High Priest as a physical reminder. Find a cure. Find a way to save the Granmodrx civilization. Help them bear children again.

Many raised their heads as Nokix walked over them. Their voices rose in volume. He hadn’t realized it was possible. They begged and pleaded for him to help them. Gods, how he was trying. His four missions had failed so far. He knew of five other units traveling in opposite directions searching the galaxies for a cure as well.

He wondered where the High Priest was sending him next.