Omega Run, page 1
Waking in a strange body is the least unusual thing that Lyra’s new destiny contains. She is the only omega on a planet of alphas. No pressure.
Lyra’s last conscious thought was being trapped under debris in a dam collapse. When her consciousness woke up, things were... different.
She was in her sixth decade, but her body was slight and curvy, and she had a lot of blue hair in lieu of her normal mud brown. That was different.
She meets the medical team, and they are aliens with pointy ears. Fair enough. She now has pointy ears as well.
A briefing lets her know she is an omega. She is the only omega on the entire planet and the first of her kind to wake. What follows is a dizzying culture shock, a lot of firsts, and being the target of a mate-drive run that will see her with partners by the end of it. The first Omega Run since the natural omegas died. What could go wrong?
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Omega Run
Copyright © 2023 Viola Grace and Taryn Jameson
ISBN: 978-1-4874-3971-2
Cover art by Angela Waters
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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Smashwords Edition
Omega Run
Recycled Souls, Book 1
By
Viola Grace and Taryn Jameson
Chapter One
Pulling air into her lungs was the hardest thing she had ever done, but Lyra managed it. The heavy wheeze of her breath was the only sound in her room, but as she rolled to her side, she heard a shrill beeping.
This was wrong. Everything was wrong.
She was wearing a white gown of soft fabric and knew she didn’t own anything like it. She favoured T-shirts or nothing.
A woman in a version of a medical tunic and skirt came into the room via a silvery door. She stared for a moment, and Lyra stared back. The woman concisely said, “Oh!” and backed out of the room, closing the door.
Lyra pushed to a sitting position and rubbed her hand, blinking at the texture. Her skin felt weird, like super soft, and the scars that she was used to weren’t there. The nails were neatly trimmed and not like her bitten fingertips.
She pulled her hair around and stared at the navy blue. Oh shit. This isn’t me. Who the hell am I?
The door opened again, and a man in medical clothing was with the woman. “By the stars, it worked.”
Lyra looked at them and swung her legs off the bed. She slowly stood and stared at the two beings who where decidedly larger than she.
She swayed, and her feet felt the cold radiating from the floor. She licked her lips. “Who are you, and why am I in this body? I don’t belong here.”
The woman folded her hands together. “Where do you think you belong?”
“I was drowning. Dying. I couldn’t breathe. The floodwater had me, and I was tangled in debris. The world got dark, and then I woke up here. The problem is, this isn’t my body.” The words tumbled as she had in the floodwaters.
The medical team looked at each other. The woman said, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, this isn’t my body. How tall are you?”
The woman frowned. “Average height.”
“What species are you?” She looked at the other two, and they were vaguely human but had silvery skin, dark lines around their eyes, and ears that were pointed and nearly elfin.
They looked at each other, and the female went to a cupboard and brought a mirror out. “We are the same species that you are, miss. Now, what is your name?”
She stared into a mirror where her blue hair, violet eyes, and pearlescent skin were not what she remembered having. Her ears were pointed, and her lips were blushing pink. She was pretty. Damn. “This isn’t my face.”
Lyra didn’t know what they were supposed to do or say, but it wasn’t her face. It wasn’t her body. She had been a grey person. Unremarkable in every way—brown hair, brown eyes and skin that spoke to her muddled genetics. Her body had been straight, and this new one had curves everywhere she looked, but she needed to know what to do when the original owner came back.
“Who do you think I am?” she challenged.
The male smiled slightly. “Omega Yten.”
She frowned. Omega had an identifying sense to it, and Yten was a number. Three.
“That isn’t a name.”
The woman inclined her head. “We are depending on you to provide your name.”
“Lyra. What do the other identifiers mean?”
“You are an omega and the third attempt to renew your designation in our population.”
“Designation?”
The male smiled. “Let us do health checks and scan your brain output.”
“Will it hurt?”
He shook his head. “No. You are a precious output of the project. Injury is the last thing we want.”
The female said, “We have an informative film for you to watch.”
“Oh, goody.” She took a few steps on the floor. “So, let’s get this party started.”
“You aren’t going go object or fight?”
Lyra shrugged. “I was dead. I know I was dead. I don’t know who was supposed to be in this body, but if they come back, I will leave... somehow.”
The woman took her hand and led her out of the silvery door into a hallway. There was a clatter of an instrument tray when Lyra entered an exam chamber. Medical staff were staring at her.
“Excuse me, miss. Why are they staring at me?”
The woman smiled. “When you see the video, you will understand.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“You have strange speech patterns.”
“Well, based on the pointy ears, my soul is in the wrong body.”
The medical staff were listening keenly; their silvery skin was very definitely not human.
They led her to a bed, and the female lifted her dress over her head before helping her hop up and settling her in place. She placed a halo with a clear gem on the forehead on Lyra’s head and ordered to relax.
She pursed her lips. There was nothing like being ordered to relax to make sure that it never happened.
Her temples tingled where the halo pressed against her skin, and a crimson light filled the room.
All of the physicians were silent until the tingle stopped and the light winked out.
Lyra asked, “What was that?”
The male who had been in her room said, “It was a species identifier. It denoted your origin.”
“Oh. Great.”
The female snickered.
The rest of the scans went along without any discomfort, and then the female murmured, “Breathe deep. This is the final exam.”
Soft loops snagged her wrists and held her down, her ankles were treated to the same, and then they were widened. The probe that pressed against her sex and slipped inside made her squirm. When the probe began to swell, her eyes got huge, and she tried to move again. They released a mist near her face, and the thick scent made her cough, but there was a flood of moisture from between her thighs that would dehydrate her if it continued. It was an exaggeration, but it was disconcerting. The scent faded, and the probe pulled free of her without deflating.
She gasped and heard a sound from her throat that she had never heard before. A soft whine that was desperate and begging.
She shuddered, and the cuffs released. Lyra slammed her legs together and sat up. “What the actual fuck was that?”
The medics stared in shock at her attitude.
The male she had met was looking at her in dawning glee. “We have a successful omega!”
“Shall I alert the project heads?” The female grinned.
“At once. They are going to want to meet her.”
Lyra made a T with her hands. “Time out. I need clothes and a towel. I don’t know what was in that probe, but I am soaked.”
She looked down at her breasts with nipples the same pale pink as her lips and the neatly trimmed thatch of blue pubic hair. “Yeah, clothes are good.”
The male said, “I will clothe her; you send the missive. I expect to have a representative down here within the hour.”
They nodded to each other, and the physician, whom she now suspected was a researcher, stared. She knew nerd face when she saw it. He was examining her coldly. She was a project. He had said as much. He carefully helped her off the table and showed her where to go. There was a changing area where there were slippers and a rack of gowns. They were way too fancy to be dresses.
He handed her a gold gown, and she scowled. “No. Wrong colour.”
She flipped through the dresses, found a gown with white la yers, checked it for opacity, then slipped it over her head, tucking her breasts into the empire bodice.
“I thought it would wash out your skin, but it is striking.”
She flapped the long and wide sleeves. “I just had to check it wasn’t see-through. Now, where is the video that explains things... and where’s my towel?”
He was laughing and handed her a cloth. She hiked up the floor-length skirt and got rid of the excessive moisture, folding the cloth with the residue inside. He took it and smiled. “Thank you, Omega Yten Lyra.”
She blinked. “You’re welcome?”
He grinned. “Come; I will show you to the gallery where you can see why you are here.”
Lyra nodded and wiggled her toes in the slippers. “Why are all the clothes my size?”
“Because all the omegas that we generated were from the same body blanks.”
“So, there wasn’t anyone in this body before me?”
He shook his head. “No.”
She was relieved, but as they walked through the halls, part of her was also terrified. How had she gotten into a body that definitely was not hers?
The gallery had a seat in the centre of it. Paintings of pointy-eared warriors were everywhere, and the chair was aimed at a blank space. When she sat and settled in, the projection began with a history lesson, and she learned where she was and why she was there.
She was a sex toy for a specific part of the population.
Lyra watched the History of the MaKorith. Three classes of beings made up their society. Alphas, betas, and omegas. The betas were the most plentiful, the alphas were the warriors and tacticians, and the omegas... they kept the alphas calm.
A beta uprising wiped out the omegas, and some folk thought that it would give their society a reason to banish the alphas to some other worlds, but the alphas cracked down, took betas as mates, and with every generation, there were fewer of the golden ones who kept the MaKorith thriving.
The Su’ath were the catalyst for the change in attitude. The shapeshifting race began attacking outposts, and the betas ran to the alphas for help. They agreed if the betas could bring omegas back.
The scientists combined alien tech from a dozen worlds, and the omega project was underway, but transferring consciousness wasn’t possible, so they had to use dimensional gateways to pull suitable souls through and coax them into the vessels.
When a consciousness settled, a transformation began, and the blank took on unmistakable aspects of life.
The description of omegas was lacklustre. It just described them as soft in body and speech, delicate, and made to be protected and doted on by alphas. Only omegas could soothe them and let them become stronger beyond their alpha tempers and riotous emotions. Delightful.
There was a physical scale of the MaKorith, and she blinked. “No fucking way.”
Omegas were six inches smaller than betas, who were twelve inches smaller than alphas. The alphas were nearly seven feet tall, and she was five feet if she were lucky. That wasn’t a size differential she had ever attempted, but she had been a tall woman. A tall, unremarkable woman. Now she was a tiny, pale, blue-haired, and purple-eyed woman with boobs that were double what her hands could manage and an exaggerated hourglass for a figure. It was the type of body she used to dream of having, but now, it freaked her out. Designed to be prey.
She was staring at the blank space when there was a growl from behind her. “You are the right size, but are you a true omega?”
She turned and saw the researcher standing next to a huge creature with golden skin, long black hair pulled back in a bound ponytail, and pointed ears. His glittering green eyes were huge and outlined with black.
“What the fuck is that?” She screamed and moved into the gallery, hiding behind a pillar with a statue on it.
The man who had spoken paused, and his lips twisted in a smile. The researcher looked nervous. “I will retrieve her.”
“No. Let me.” The man was dressed in a black military uniform that made him look even bigger, not that it was necessary.
She hid behind the pillar as the giant came for her. When he got close, she darted to the next pillar, and he snickered. Then, when he got close again, she gauged his speed and dove between his legs, sliding and scrambling to her feet on the other side. He was laughing as he turned to grab her, and the moment he got near her and she prepared to bolt, his arms snapped forward, and he caught her, lifting her off her feet.
“That was interesting. You have an instinct to run. Good. There hasn’t been an Omega Run in centuries. I think it would be a good way to introduce you to your alphas. It will also separate the weak from the determined.”
She kicked at him, and he held her out of range. “Don’t you mean the strong?”
He laughed. “We are all strong, but some are content with a beta in their bed. Those who want an omega will line up and fight for the honour to become yours.”
She frowned. “Alphas used to possess the omegas.”
“Yes, but now there is only one of you, so belonging to the omega is a badge of honour for the males.”
“Why are you speaking in plural?” She caught his scent, and it teased at her, but something in that masculine scent made her frown. He wasn’t for her.
He looked at her and narrowed his gaze.
“Well, you aren’t for me, so it doesn’t matter. Put me down.”
He grinned and gently set her on her feet. “Your accent is strange, and your reflexes are not the soft and quiet ones of the ancient omegas, so you are something new, but I don’t want to expose you to a rutting alpha unless we can find one guaranteed to be both sufficiently ranking and acceptable to you.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Bring me an article of clothing from each of them. A glove, a shirt. Whatever. I seem to be mostly scent-triggered.”
“Who were you, little omega?”
She looked up at him and scowled. “That is disturbingly accurate. I was Lyra Omanic. I worked at a dam that collapsed and flooded the area it was designed to keep dry. I was trapped in debris and being pulled under, and then I woke up here.”
The guy crouched slowly. “You have been in that body for four months. That is when the brain activity indicator lit up, and you started to gain pigmentation. You designed yourself.”
She frowned. “Really? The blue hair is a little odd.”
He chuckled. “We thought so, too, but you were given instruction that you could change the pigment and nothing else.”
“You have a mate, right?” She cocked her head.
He nodded. “I do. You can tell?”
She nodded. “There is a scent that I translate as bitter, so I was guessing what it meant.”
Lyra was standing with her hands in front of her and talking to a giant that could have been made of three of her. “So, do the alphas just appear randomly in the population?”
He nodded. “We do. Fifteen out of a hundred are alphas. Five percent used to be omegas, but gene therapy destroyed all of your kind. Omegas have weak immune systems on their own, and the younger ones failed while the mated ones sickened and died after exposure to the virus. The alphas withdrew from their positions as leaders and warriors and let the betas have the world. We expelled anyone who wasn’t a mate from one of the southern continents, and we left the betas to live the life they wanted to lead. It took thirty-five years, but they begged for the alphas to return to assist and guide them when they were threatened by the Su’ath. We let them suffer for a few years before we returned and activated all the old equipment designed for us.” He chuckled. “Of course, there was a deal to be made, so we negotiated for a return of the omegas with a sturdier biology.”
She blinked. “So, alien tech and blank bodies and then the betas baited for souls. When they caught one, they moved me into an incubator. Right now, I have an image of a bunch of bodies on slabs at the top of the building with a magnifying lens firing at them.”
“It is a bit more of an orb in a dimensional rift. There is a video of the transfer moment if you want to see it.” He stood and offered his hand.
“Well, since I am not attracted to you, this is not going to lead to any kind of weird orgy, so I will say sure.”
