The Life of Koru, Chapter 37
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"Jared, what the actual fuck...?" Mrs. Faraja said, unable to finish her sentence.
"I wanted to put an end to your unnatural relationship with this... slave!" Sir Jared said in defense of his actions.
"How dare you? My personal life is none of your business!"
"Of course it is! I am your husband now! Your personal life interests me!"
Mrs. Faraja was reeling from shock and anger. She descended from the balcony and ran through the crowd of plantation slaves to the struggling, collapsing Tucky. She embraced him. His gushing blood as well as his general dirtiness stained her bridal dress with red and brown patches, but she didn't care. All that mattered was holding him close.
"Bring me a doctor, right now!" she yelled.
"You mean a vet?" someone said.
"No! A doctor! I want a doctor to see him!"
The doctor came right away, but he had only bad news:
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Dakari! There is nothing we can do about this fatally wounded koru! At least he died happily. He died in his Missuh's embrace."
Mrs. Faraja was devastated. Jared tried to comfort her, but she replied:
"Don't touch me! Don't touch me, I said!"
And later on, she said:
"I don't love you anymore, you monster! I will divorce you right away!"
"You can try!" Sir Jared thought the answer in his head. "See how much empathy you will get from the court, when you tell them you loved a koru more than me!"
But instead of that he said:
"Well, time heals all wounds, honey! I am sure we can find some reconciliation!"
Later that day, Faraja received an unexpected visit from her grandma, Mrs. Nefertari:
"Faraja, I understand your sorrow, but I advise you to get over it! You shed too many tears and that foolish boy Tucky didn't deserve them..."
"Now you sound just as cruel as the others, grandma!"
"No, no, I only want what's best for you! I studied your husband closely and he's not as bad as you think. On the contrary, he is very ambitious, and if there's something that makes people move up in this world, it is ambition. Money and relations help of course, but above all, ambition!
She then went closer to her granddaughter, looked into her eyes and said:
"Faraja! I read in the cards..."
"You know I don't believe in that, grandma!"
Mrs. Faraja was not interested in her grandmother's dabbling in the esoteric, dismissing it as nonsensical extravagance. She relied solely on what was confirmed and tested by science, but nevertheless Mrs. Nefertari continued:
"Every time I shuffle them, there are four cards that come out in the same order. Look!"
She took out her trusty deck of cards from her purse and placed it on the table. The tarot cards used in the Black Empire were heavily inspired by the old traditional cards of Ancient Egypt, although there were some changes in terms of deck composition and aesthetics.
The first card revealed from the deck was "The Fool", a comical representation of a naked koru scratching his head.
The second one was "The Midnight Rider", also called "Death", which was a representation of a mysterious Black Man in dark ominous garb.
The third card was "The Hanged One", a koru slave hanging upside down from a tree in a moment of punishment.
The fourth card was "The Emperor", an enthroned majestic Black Man surrounded by candles, stars and esoteric symbols.
Mrs. Nefertari's expression was very serious as she examined the cards. She explained:
"Tucky is the Fool becoming the Hanged One. He had to be sacrificed and be given to Death, in order for your husband to unlock his path to becoming The Emperor."
"Grandma, you are very much wrong! Tucky was shot, not hanged. I know of another koru that was about to get hanged, but I saved him, so he was not given to Death, as you say. He is very much alive..."
"What are you talking about, my child?"
"Indeed! He was a chain gang slave. Unfortunately I don't remember his name, but he was cheerful, he was quite a fool and I used to call him Gugu."
"And where is he now?"
"Somewhere in Sahara I suppose, fighting the soldiers of the Caliphate..."
Mrs. Nefertari looked very shocked and incredulous. She grabbed another card from her deck and flipped it on the table.
The fifth card was none other than:
"War..." Mrs. Nefertari whispered.
Base 23 stood tall against the endless expanse of the Sahara, a fortress of high-tech military ingenuity in the midst of an unforgiving desert. From above, the base appeared as a cluster of sleek buildings and interconnected modules arranged with precise efficiency. Its perimeter was defined by high, reinforced walls, topped with state-of-the-art surveillance equipment and automated defense systems that gleamed under the relentless sun.
The main entrance to Base 23 was a formidable gate, flanked by watchtowers equipped with long-range sensors and heavy weaponry. A convoy of armored vehicles, painted in desert camouflage, rolled through the gates, their engines rumbling softly as they passed by the saluting slave guards. Beyond the gate, the heart of the base revealed itself--a hive of activity where slave soldiers moved with purpose at the command of Black officers.
Captain Toure's division marched in, trying to look as bold and enthusiastic as possible. After weeks of crossing land and desert, they were weary and covered in dust, but there was no time for rest. The commanders of Base 23 needed to send them immediately into the conflict zone in order to apply more pressure to the enemy. The comfort and security of Base 23 was only reserved to the Black Lords. The koru soldiers had to venture far into the war territory, in order to fight and fulfill missions.
It is for this reason that the freshly arrived soldiers were already receiving instructions about what they had to do on the field. The processing of slaves through Base 23 prioritized readiness over their comfort, so no washing, no medical examinations, just a cursory trimming of hair and beard was performed.
Each soldier received a good sturdy machete from the deposit, but nothing more. Koru slaves fought totally naked, the same way they also worked.
Captain Toure gave them a great motivational speech:
"Soldiers, every grain of sand you're stepping on is a piece of the Black Empire! You need to protect it from those who want to invade it! You must sacrifice your lives, fighting for your Massas, your wummses and your pups! You will fight until the last drop of blood drips from your veins! You will fight until the last gust of air is released from your lungs! You will fight bravely, only keeping this in mind: that you are here serving the Black Empire!
The Empire wants you to be like rabid dogs with the enemies from the Caliphate. Keep this in mind when you cut them down as if they were sugar cane! Make a bountiful harvest of their unworthy flesh! Pile it up! Slaughter them without mercy! Those koru do not even believe in the Black Man in the Sky, so why should they live? What do you say, boys?"
"FOR THE EMPIRE, SUH CAPTAIN SUH! HURRAH! HURRAH!"
The koru were thrilled. It was amazing how Captain Toure could put into words their deepest feelings, their utmost love for the Black Empire, their Black Massas and the wummses and pups they left at home. Mulo thought about Mayana and his pup, but he also thought about Massa Reginald and Peon. He wanted to keep them safe through any means necessary and that included making sure that the Caliphate never reached them.
In their emotional emboldened states, the slaves pledged an oath by kissing the blades of their machetes and saying:
"On my heart, I'se'll serve the Black Empire!"
Then they dropped to their knees, made a circle in the sand with their machetes and touched the circle with their cocks, pledging another oath, this time on their cocks:
"On my cock, I'se'll serve the Black Empire!"
A slave soldier bound by heart-and-cock to the Empire was a slave who was completely dedicated to the cause. He was a dutiful servant, there was no way around it. If they broke the oath, the koru could only expect the worst to happen to them in this life and after.