Chapter 3: Work Hard

Ramos was awoken by the sound of a buzzer. He rolled out of bed, still groggy, heading for the door wearing only his shorts. When he opened it, he found Orzi standing on his steps.

“Morning!” she said cheerfully, pushing her way past him even as she asked permission to enter. “Mind if I stop by for a minute?”

“Sure,” he replied, rubbing one of his eyes. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to check in and ask how your first day on the job went,” she explained, doing a lap around his small living room before turning to face him. She popped off her helmet, sensing that the A/C was still cranked, her pink nose twitching. “How did you get on with Rashka and her pack?”

“They were remarkably civil,” he said, only now realizing that he was practically nude. He made for the bedroom and pulled on a fresh shirt and sweatpants, Orzi waiting patiently. “The way you described them, I thought I’d be stepping on eggshells. Zhura was a little harder to get on with, but Rashka seems to be keeping her in check. Kozi is ... excitable. How well do you know them?”

“I screen all of the packs before assigning them a tutor,” the Polar replied. “We are well acquainted. How was Rashka? She can be willful at times.”

“She can be hard to read,” he admitted as he returned from the bedroom. He paused by the kitchen, leaning on the narrow counter. “I just met them, so I don’t expect them to spill their guts, but I get the impression that a lot happened before I arrived.”

“The war was not kind to Rashka’s pack,” Orzi replied. “It is rarely kind to anyone. They were five once, and while Rashka kept her packmates safe throughout the rebellion, its aftermath split them. Two left to become mercenaries, and I do not think she has yet forgiven herself for failing to keep them together.”

“That explains a lot,” Ramos sighed. “Zhura said something about farmers not having any glory. I get the impression that she’s still not totally onboard with the decision.”

“She may still feel resentment over what happened,” Orzi replied. “Show her patience.”

“They’re learning quickly, and they work well as a team,” he added. “I’m optimistic.”

“Well, you just let me know if you need any help,” she said as she made for the door again. “I have much to do, so I must leave you. Good luck today.”

“Thanks!” he replied, waving her off as she put her helmet on and stepped out into the heat.

Their short conversation had been illuminating. If Rashka’s pack had been split by her decision to become a farmer, then it might explain why she was so protective and why Zhura had such a bad attitude. Maybe she was regretting choosing to stay with her Alpha. It wasn’t Ramos’ place to interfere, but perhaps he could do something about that – give her a new purpose.

The door suddenly slid open, and Kozi barged her way inside, letting in a flood of hot air.

“Hey, runt!” she declared as she raised a clawed hand in greeting. “How are you-”

She stumbled, almost losing her footing, ducking to avoid hitting her head on the ceiling. Glancing down at the floor in confusion, she began to crouch experimentally, waving a hand through the air. Before Ramos could protest, she picked up a metal cup from his table and let it drop.

“Whoa,” she chuckled, following it up with a hissing exclamation in her native language. “You got one of those gravity plates, runt? Is this how humans live?”

“Let me shut it off,” he grumbled, heading for the control panel on the wall.

“No need, this is fun,” she giggled as she walked over to his couch unsteadily. She flopped down onto it, Ramos hearing its frame creak worryingly, her butt wide enough to almost occupy it entirely. With her long legs extended, she reclined, giving him her signature grin. “Not bad. A little cramped for my tastes.”

Rashka and Zhura followed, seeming less amused by the change in environment. Zhura pulled her leather jacket more tightly closed like someone fastening their coat in the dead of winter.

“Kozi, show some respect to your host,” Rashka grumbled as she glanced around the prefab. She was tall enough that she had to bow her head to fit inside. “We have come to fetch you for work, Ramos.”

“You’re a little early,” he replied, heading back to the bedroom. “Give me a few minutes to get dressed.”

As he began to pull on his work clothes, the three Rask spread out into the prefab, examining their strange new surroundings. They were so large that they made all of the furniture look like toys in comparison. Zhura lifted some of the empty food packaging that had been left on the table, grimacing as she gave it a sniff, while Kozi made for the shower.

“Hey, he has one of these water boxes!” she declared as she slid the glass door aside. Her shoulders were so wide that she could barely get her head inside, reaching in with one arm to toy with the controls. She succeeded in activating the head, hot water spraying her, dampening her messy bob of blonde hair.

“Damn it!” Ramos grumbled as she recoiled, steam billowing out to fill the room. He hopped his way over with only one leg in his coveralls, leaning in to turn it off, the dripping Rask snickering at him. “Don’t touch anything, please. The landlord will have my head if I waste any water.”

“Look at his bed,” Kozi said, ignoring his comment as she squeezed past him. It was small, even by human standards, pressed up against the wall at the furthest end of the prefab. She walked up to it, pawing at the sheets and giving the air a sniff. “Think of it – a bed for a single person, and so tiny! There is no scent on it but his own!”

“Barbaric,” Zhura muttered. “Who could live in such a manner?”

“It’s quite normal for a human, I assure you,” Ramos said as he went after her. “Kozi, would you please wait in the living room so I can get dressed?”

“If you call that a living room,” she replied, returning to Rashka’s side. “This whole dwelling is barely larger than our truck,” she whispered, giving her Alpha a smirk. “We should take him home, Rashka – show him how Rask live. Think of it...”

“It is bad enough to have his alien scent all over our vehicle,” Zhura complained, crossing her arms across her broad chest. “I do not want it in the bed chamber, too.”

Kozi began to speak in her native tongue, and while Ramos couldn’t understand the strange yowling and spitting, he picked up on her salacious tone. All he could do was pretend not to notice, turning away from them as he finished zipping up his coveralls.

“I do not need to know what Xeema has been saying about the Marines,” Rashka chided. “That woman should focus on her work rather than fraternizing with every alien that comes through the city.”

“Smooth,” Kozi teased. “No claws...”

“Ramos,” Rashka added, raising her voice. “Are you nearly ready?”

“Head out to the truck,” he replied. “I’ll be there in a sec.”

The three women filed out of the prefab, closing the door behind them. Ramos paused to switch off all the power on his way out, then put on his hat and sunglasses, feeling the weight of the planet’s crushing gravity return as he slid his keycard into his pocket.

The APC was idling in the street outside his door, and he piled into the troop compartment, the vehicle setting off into the desert.

After a long drive, they pulled up beneath the crawler, the three passengers hopping out as Rashka shut off the engine. Ramos walked out into the stifling heat, squinting his eyes against the harsh sunlight. Even in the shadow of the immense industrial machine, it was painfully bright. Rashka soon joined them, and they made their way over to the tent where Ramos had first met them. It was deserted today – probably too early in the morning for most of the staff to have arrived yet – and the pack set about filling their canteens from a water tank near the back.

“Ah, shit,” Ramos said. “Hang on – I think I left my shades in the truck. Be back in five.”

He returned across the hot sand, glancing up at the belly of the crawler as he went, its scale never ceasing to amaze him. The Rask didn’t need to lock their vehicles, so he swung open a door to the APC’s bay and found his sunglasses lying on the carpeted deck. He walked back to the tent, but as he neared it, he heard the sound of voices. He paused, creeping across the soft sand to get a little closer, eavesdropping on the conversation through the tarp-like material.

“Orzi was very clear,” Rashka growled, her voice a low rumble. “The human is not to be inducted.”

“Come on, Rashka,” Kozi whined in a playful tone that suggested she was once again pushing her Alpha’s buttons. “Think of it! He is like a young male who has just shed his coat – fresh-faced and untouched, with skin clean of any scars.”

“I will admit that the sight of it is provocative,” Zhura added reluctantly. “The idea of such impotent creatures going without any form of discipline for so long is unthinkable.”

“You could take him rough,” Kozi added, ending with a sly laugh that made Ramos’ heart skip a beat. “Teach him that his place is beneath you, then show him the same affection you show me after we quarrel. It is like whiplash to them – Xeema said so. You would have him melting into your arms and begging for it to continue. You smelled his bed chamber – these humans sometimes go it alone for months or even years. He would probably thank you.”

“At least it would relieve you of your frustration,” Zhura said, seeming to agree with Kozi. “I have seen the way you look at him when he addresses you as though you were of equal standing – how your eyes grow fierce. He must learn his place, if nothing else. Every word he speaks is an insult to your authority.”

“He does not know the signals,” Kozi scoffed. “Remember – he is of their world, not ours. How is he to know what it means to meet his Alpha’s gaze in such a way or to speak to her in that manner? You cannot simply show them your claws – they are too fragile. You must be creative.”

“Ask Xeema to find you a willing Marine if you are so eager,” Rashka chided. “Your obsession with these aliens grows tiresome.”

“You are not yourself, Rashka,” Kozi pleaded. “You are like a mooring line pulled taut, waiting to snap. Zhura is right – you need relief that my tongue alone cannot provide. It need not be an induction. The runt may be more than willing if we simply ask, as is their custom. Would that be disobeying the Matriarch?”

“We have sacrificed too much,” Rashka added, her packmates going silent. “If Orzi expels us from the program and we cannot serve our territory, then what was the point of any of it? Why did we let our packmates leave us if we do not intend to see this to the end?”

The argument seemed to have ended, so Ramos waited a minute or two more, letting their sordid words swirl around in his head. His heart was pounding in his ears, and butterflies swarmed in his belly, his face burning at the implications. Rashka was not as stoic as he had assumed, then. She was on edge, merely interacting with him requiring her to suppress her emotions like some kind of ascetic monk. Ramos had been provoking her in all manner of ways simply by speaking to her like a human – the only way he knew how.

Was he in danger? He didn’t feel in danger, and Rashka seemed to be sticking to her guns, her sense of duty more powerful than her urges. The Alpha was overwhelming in both her presence and her physicality, strong enough to tear his arms from his sockets, but she had given him no reason to believe that she would ever hurt him. Orzi trusted her, and so should he. It was Kozi who seemed more likely to make a pass at him, but she was playful about it. Zhura mostly just seemed annoyed by his presence.

If he went to Orzi and complained, the pack might be thrown out of the program. After what he had learned about their past, he couldn’t let that happen to them. Perhaps there were ways that he could alleviate some of their discomfort. He gave himself time to calm down, then entered through the flap.

“I’m back,” he declared, seeing the three Rask sitting together around one of the tall tables. “Ready to get to work?”

Rashka looked to her packmates as if to say keep your mouths shut, then rose to her feet. The group headed out to the parking area and signed out their gear, driving through the desert to the work site.

They were laying down the drip irrigation system today, using a trailer that dug trenches in the sand and buried lengths of pipe at an ideal depth for the roots, feeding them a slow trickle of water and nutrients. Ramos had chosen Zhura for the job, figuring that she could use more practice in the tractor, while her two counterparts were back at the site managing the dozers.

The tractor pulled up at the well that he and Kozi had dug the day before, and the pair hopped out, starting to set up the machine to lay down the beginning of the network that would carry water to the burgeoning farm.

“So, this blade excavates a furrow in the ground,” Ramos began as he gestured to the mass of machinery. “Then, these racks hold the lengths of polymer piping, and this mechanism lowers them down. It’s pretty much completely automated – all you have to do is load the pipes. At the near end, we’re going to manually install an adapter that connects it to the valve on the well. You want to flip it open?” he added, giving her a smile as she watched dispassionately. “Kozi got soaked yesterday.”

“No,” she grumbled.

“Listen, I know you think that I’m just some clueless human who has no idea what life is like in your territory,” he said as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the trailer. “You think farming is a waste of time, and you’d rather be off fighting for honor and glory or whatever, but what we’re doing here is worthwhile. Think of the desert as an enemy that has to be defeated,” he continued, the Rask listening with a skeptical frown. “The walls of your fortress have been breached, and your foes are spilling through. They’re sacking your natural resources, razing your farmland, and pillaging your coffers. You’ve been chosen to lead the counter-charge and hold the line. Once more into the breach,” he added, hoping that his words were as inspiring as they had sounded in his head. “This is an opponent that can only be beaten back through plowing, irrigation, and careful strategy.”

“Can we please get this over with?” she sighed.

“Fine,” he replied with a shrug, starting to walk towards the well. “Resist all you want, but when you start seeing those first sprouts pushing up through the soil, I know that you’ll-”

Zhura lunged, Ramos reeling as he felt his back hit the hull of the tractor, the Rask pressing him up against the sun-baked metal as she gripped the collar of his coveralls. Though Rashka always made her look small when the two were standing together, Zhura still towered more than two feet above Ramos, her furry fist as large as his head. She bent down to reach his level, but not so much that he didn’t have to peer up to meet her fierce gaze, the alien bringing her feline nose to within an inch of his.

“You are clueless,” she hissed, her sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight as she spoke. “You do not belong here, and you have no inkling as to how much you test our patience with each word that leaves your lips.”

“Whoa, hey!” he stammered as he reached up to grip her fuzzy forearm with one hand. It was so thick that he couldn’t even get his fingers halfway around it. “You’re not supposed to-”

“Silence,” she snapped, slamming him against the tractor again. “Rashka is doing what she must to protect us, but I do not fear the Polar, and I have not the will to endure your disrespect for love of the Matriarch. You are ignorant and foolish, so I will do you this kindness before someone with a shorter temper tarnishes that clear skin of yours.”

She brought one of her hooked claws to his cheek, Ramos holding as still as a statue – scared to even take in a breath as she dragged it gently across his face. Her touch was as light as a feather, her hand as steady as a surgeon’s, Ramos feeling the point of the sharp implement even though it was barely making contact with him. A flick of her wrist, and she could make him unrecognizable.

“You will show respect to my Alpha,” she hissed, her yellow eyes watching him as he met her stare defiantly. “You have no idea how much stress you have been putting her under, and how much you have already tested her resolve. You will not meet her gaze. When she speaks to you, turn your eyes away. When you speak to her, do not address her as an equal, and never presume to give her commands. You ask, and you do so politely, with deference. Please, Alpha, if you would be so kind.”

“Your highest authority gave you orders to obey me,” Ramos replied through gritted teeth. “If Orzi or Rashka heard that you-”

She gave him another shove to silence him, the metal creaking behind him.

“I have not been so cowed by our defeat that I will be lectured by a clawless runt like you,” she snarled. “You will tell the meddling Polar nothing of this, nor will you trouble Rashka. She has sacrificed more than you could ever know for the opportunity to learn these skills, and she has given much in service of two Matriarchs. Too much. From this moment on, Rashka is your goddess. Do you understand? To even look upon her for too long is sacrilege, and to speak as though she were beneath you is to invite the most terrible wrath.”

“Alright, alright!” Ramos conceded as he felt his boots leave the sand. “I didn’t know I was putting her under so much stress!”

Zhura leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered to him, her tone as sordid as it was threatening. Her collar filled his field of view, beads of gleaming sweat trickling down her neck towards her cleavage, her damp tank top adhering to her caramel skin beneath her open jacket. Her scent filled his lungs, exertion and something yet sweeter making his head spin.

“If it were within my power, I would have you on your knees in the sand with your face buried between her thighs, writing an apology with your tongue. This correction will have to suffice for now.”

She released him and stepped away, letting him drop back to the sand. He reached up to straighten his collar, giving her a scowl as she glared down at him.

“You know, you could have just talked to me about Rask etiquette,” he complained as he pressed a hand to his cheek, pulling it away to see that there was no blood. “I’m not here to make life difficult for you guys.”

Zhura was still breathing heavily, clearly wound up by the interaction, her long tail flicking back and forth behind her in a way that seemed indecisive. Ramos wasn’t faring much better, the lurid tone of her threat making his face flush, his heart pounding in his chest. They were both soaked with sweat from the desert’s harsh heat, staring one another down, the tension in the air so thick that he could have cut it with a knife.

Ramos was trembling, adrenaline coursing through his veins, a tinge of confusing arousal following his fear like a sweet chaser after a shot of harsh liqueur. The argument that he had overheard earlier that morning was playing back in his mind, Kozi’s words lodging themselves in his brain, Rashka’s struggles only confirmed by Zhura’s outburst. They couldn’t be violent towards him – humans were too fragile for their dominance bouts – so they had to get creative, as Kozi had put it. What exactly did that entail?

Teach him his place. Take him rough. You would have him melting into your arms. It was no secret that the Marines stationed in the city fraternized with their Rask hosts, and he’d have to be suffering from a head injury to not see how the pack viewed him, but those guys were battle-hardened soldiers who could benchpress their own body weight. Ramos would be eaten alive.

Yes, he could go to Orzi, and the pack would be out of the program by morning. He didn’t want that, though. Zhura had no way of knowing it, but he knew exactly how much the Alpha had sacrificed, and what being expelled would do to her. That wasn’t something he was going to allow if he could help it.

“Alright,” he sighed, brushing himself off. “You don’t like me, and I don’t really appreciate being manhandled by my students, but we’re stuck together. I’m going to try to make things easier for Rashka. Not for you, but for her. Don’t maintain eye contact, phrase everything as a polite request, give her space – have I got that right?”

“It may be enough to keep her from breaking, as long as you do not overstay your welcome,” Zhura replied as she strode over to the valve. Ramos joined her, collecting himself for a moment as she waited for instruction.

“Connect the first section of pipe to the valve,” he began. “Pretty please,” he added sarcastically.

“I would forfeit a month’s pay to see what Rashka would do to you were this stupid mandate not in place,” she said with a laugh, crouching to hook up the connector. “I would pay more to do it myself. You have spirit, if nothing else, runt.”

“Just hook up the damned pipe,” he grumbled.

She did as he asked, then rose to her feet, passing by him on her way to the tractor. She brushed her furry tail against him on her way past, Ramos batting it aside, turning to see her smiling at him as she climbed up to the cab. At least she had been able to blow off some steam. She seemed a lot less tense after their confrontation, so maybe she’d be a little easier to get along with now.

He followed behind her, and they maneuvered the vehicle into position, Zhura watching through the rearview mirror as Ramos had taught her.

“Check the dash,” he advised, pointing to the large touch panel that was mounted to her right. “The UI will guide you in and tell you when you’re in position.”

She was getting better at driving, and she managed it, Ramos giving her an approving nod.

“Alright,” he added. “Let’s lay some pipe.”

Over the next few hours, Ramos made sure that everyone had a turn laying down irrigation pipes in the tractor, and they soon had a completed network running between the rows of seeds that they had planted the day prior. When it came time to turn the system on, the pack was quite impressed. Ramos excavated a section to show them how the water dripped out of the holes and soaked into the surrounding soil.

“These are actually made from a biodegradable material formulated by the Valbarans,” he explained. “In a few years, when the jungle has recovered enough that it doesn’t need the irrigation system anymore, all you have to do is flush it with a chemical compound to trigger a reaction that causes it to rot away. Then, you can just use the well for some other purpose, like drinking water or reactor coolant.”

“Impressive,” Rashka said as Ramos climbed to his feet and started to fill in the hole with a shovel. “This will keep the plants watered until the rains return.”

“We’re almost done with the basics,” Ramos panted, pausing to wipe his brow on his sleeve. Doing manual labor in this heat and gravity made him feel like he was working in a chain gang. “Next up is learning how to protect the saplings from the environment while they grow, but the suns seem to have gotten pretty high. What say we break for lunch? With your permission,” he added with a glance to Rashka, quickly turning his eyes to the sand.

The Alpha seemed surprised, but she nodded.

“Very well. We shall break to eat.”