**All characters are 18 or over. This story contains an orgy, harem, some incest, some anal play, and public sex. This story and setting is not based on any fictional or real setting or story.**
Grand Admiral Lanro of the Alliance Space-force was in a strange legal and moral conundrum. He looked more like a marine than an officer. He kept himself in shape, but age was creeping up on him, turning him silver. "Paladin Clare," He used the young woman's title slowly, "Could you please explain again, in full, the final report options you have prepared for me? I have heard a lot of rumors." It was only the two of them in his office. Both were dressed in formal officers garb. They were friends outside of work, but Lanro wanted to be a stoic as possible when he heard her recommendations. It was a very precarious situation, and he wanted to be logical.
"Grand Admiral." He could sense the lack of confidence in her voice. She was a career officer, but looked more like a secretary than a soldier. Her body was not hard and jagged like his. It was softer and more subtle. She was still young enough to start a family if she wanted. She did well to stand strait, but it was a strange situation she was in. "As you know, the Coalition of Orc tribes has fallen, due not only to the valiant efforts of all Alliance military soldiers and officers, but also to your quick thinking and strategic planning." He nodded. "Our casualties were few, and theirs were-" She swallowed hard, "Well, we avoided as many civilian targets as we could, but their military will not recover for at least half a century." Lanro nodded again, he saw nothing wrong with his actions. Anyone armed in the conflict had to be treated as hostile. Even if it did feel like shooting fish in a barrel. "It is now up to you to decide what to do with the planet."
"It was my understanding that I would be discussing these options with their king and a diplomat sent by the Alliance Senate." Lanro stated.
"The king is dead sir. He led the first charge two months ago at the beginning of the conflict, and was killed by blaster rounds."
"Then the next in line-"
"Died seconds after in the same charge."
"Surely there is a leader somewhere." Lanro pleaded.
"Any Orc capable of being a leader has already died."
"I don't understand how that is possible."
"By Orc law and custom, Leaders are not allowed to surrender. If they do, they forfeit their title. They can die, or be taken prisoner, but never surrender." She coughed, "By Orc law, the Alliance has the right to be their new 'leader'."
"Well, we have to help them become independent." Lanro explained. "You know regulations. We can't go around conquering nations and instilling our own puppet governments. This war was necessary due to their campaign of extermination against the elf minority-"
"Of course sir, there is no doubt about that." She answered. "However, our translators have told us that if we don't cement ourselves as their leaders, then terror and lawlessness will rule. They need a central authority, and no living orc is capable."
"Hmm." he sighed. "If it cannot be avoided, regulations do dictate that the rules can be bent for the greater good. If it means peace, prosperity, and happiness in the cosmos, I will authorize whatever action necessary. Should I call home world to bring a diplomat to accept a crown of some sort? I'm not quite sure how it works."
"This is where it gets complicated sir." Paladin Claire shifted her weight side to side, "They will only accept warriors who killed their men, and generals that gave the orders. It is a military society sir. And I repeat, without this strong leadership now, chaos will take control. We can't wait for home world to approve a military dictatorship, but my strategists and xenocultural experts all agree that this is necessary."
"You are putting me is a very difficult spot Paladin Clare. To accept this title without permission can get me into a lot of trouble."
"If there was any other way, I would advise it sir. And I will accept responsibility for any fallout as well, if necessary."
"It is not necessary. This is my army, and my responsibility." He thought about it long and hard in the silence of space, "Fine. I'll take the crown for now, and I will tell home world that this is a temporary measure. I will hand over my authority at the earliest convenience and I will stand trail for my actions if necessary."
"There-" She coughed, even more anxious, "There are even more complications sir."
He raised an eyebrow. "It is not like you to be so long winded Paladin. Please summarize."
She seemed embarrassed to say it, but eventually found her words, "Leaders are, um, husbands sir." She swallowed hard. "My experts have told me that we will have to, um, systematically, I suppose, er," spat out the rest quickly, "Marry them. Sir."
"Do I have to marry all of them?" Lanro joked. "My wife already thinks we need a bigger house."
"No. But you do have to marry more than anyone else. The one with the most wives is considered top leader." Paladin Clare winced as if Lanro would strike her.
"Amusing." Lanro grimaced, "And I'm guessing the stickiest part to this is that these marriages must be consummated?"
"Yes, Sir." Paladin Clare nodded.
"We have a number of women soldiers and officers as well. What does Orc custom say about that?"
"Husbands and wife's are not decided by gender sir." Paladin Clare started, "They are decided by, ah," Clare was starting to glow pink from her blush, but she tried to keep her face as stoic as possible, "Who is on top." She said. "Not literally though, I mean," She swallowed again and made a hand motion with one finger going through a O on the other hand, "If I understand correctly, it's a Pitcher and Catcher thing. There is a ceremonial tool for females to, uh, you know," She made a quick hump in the air. Lanro raised an eyebrow. Paladin Claire seemed to instantly regret the gesture.
"You have been doing a lot of research on this haven't you?" Lanro asked.
She cleared her throat and continued with her hands behind her back, "Female leaders are rare, but they take wives as well. Male wives are also not unheard of. In fact, it is common for a leader to become a wife if they lose a great battle."
"Gods damn it." He shook his head and supported it with a palm. "Are you telling me to order our army to literally rape every single person on the planet?"
"Not rape sir!" She held up a finger and corrected him very quickly, "The Consent is quite enthusiastic. The Orc families have actually begun to line up outside of our Baracks and encampments, waiting for their turns. I have personally overheard them squabbling over who will be head wife, which, if you are curious, is decided by who consummates first, but also who the matron of that line is. Wives actually have a surprisingly complex power structure dependent on clan and class. I have seen examples of voting and lotteries and bribery already. Wives seem to own and regulate property as leaders do battle with each other. We have forms and paperwork ready for them to sign in order to keep track of everything. If they are not allowed in, they may be kidnapped and actually raped by the deserters that we are still having trouble rounding up. It seems that, as the victors, they wish to, and expect to be, uh, bred by us. Especially if the alternative is the cowardly and cannibalistic deserters." She nodded and ended her statement with that. "And that is the end of my report sir."
"And what are my options again?"
"I suggest you authorize systematically marrying the Alliance space force to the Orc population. I calculate that the average officer will be expected to marry one hundred and eighty Orc wives each. Ten percent of which is male, if that matters. You should probably take at least two hundred yourself."
"And the other options?"
"The planet falls to chaos and anarchy, millions of men, women and children are raped, murdered, tortured, mutilated, and eaten, not necessarily in that order. And in about a hundred years time, from the ashes, will rise a population that not only hates us, but may also be a real threat now that they have learned about our technology and weapons."
"Damn it Paladin Clare!" Lanro shook his head and pointed, "This better not be some sick joke!"
"It isn't sir." She was blushing madly.
"And you better not be looking forward to this!"
"Not at all sir!" her lips were tight.
"God. Two hundred Orcs wives." He had tried all this time to be professional, but he couldn't help but take out the flask he had hidden under the table.
"Actually, it may be more." She said with a wince, "Our initial estimate included all soldiers, but if we wish to let them opt out due to moral or legal considerations, it may be as high as five hundred, maybe even a thousand each." Lanro downed a shot and filled the glass again immediately. "Grand Admiral?"
"What?" He dared her to say something about drinking on the job.
"One for me please?" She asked hopefully.
"Right." He set out another glass. "Shit, I didn't realize, you will be taking a lot too right?" His eyes widened for a moment, "And you will be consummating... as a pitcher..." He downed the second shot just as she started her first. "Headquarters is not going to like this."
"I will have better information after a cursory survey of our troops." She seemed a bit more relaxed now that there was a drink in both their hands. "And I will re-evaluate some of our our soldiers in lock up. Many of them were found guilty of, well, exactly what I'm finding we will have to do anyway." She smelled the whiskey, "Any ice?"
"Of course." Lanro dropped a cube in hers and his and held his cold drink to his temple. "Claire." He dropped the titles, "Do you have any good news for me?"