Chapter 2: A Short Break

Less than a hundred light-years away, over the glamorous and bountiful shores, lay the surface of Cebravis. Numerous islands, pristine environments, and fresh air abound on this great habitable planet.

It is a little past the afternoon. The orange sun of Cebravis glows over the landscape, turning the crashing ocean waves into a faint purple color. The sandy beach carries the hint of large turtle-like creatures that crawl around, relaxing and enjoying the sun across their soft, rubbery skin. The great island is vast, consisting of green, red, and orange grasses. Trees are everywhere, except the small clearing where a large box-like transport had landed. The gray object rests on a higher natural bank, with its front bay splayed wide open. A few tents and makeshift facilities were established near the military transport. The hint of smoke could be seen leaving one of these cooking tents, accompanied by the fresh scent of fish cooking, which seemed to fill the scene near it.

The box-like transport had dominated much of the scenery. Its gray hull, stubby wings, side-mounted vectoring thrusters, side-mounted dual railgun turret, and numerous AIO turrets could be seen throughout the almost 200-meter rectangular frame. The top bridge seemed almost dormant and devoid of most activities. On the side of the ship was the name UHN Lifen written in both English and Chinese.

It was serene. It was as if the ship had been parked for weeks. Plants had grown around much of the vessel, with hints of tiny green weeds that threatened to reach up to one of the vectoring thruster mounts. Ahead of the main bay door were a few personnel sitting on lawn chairs, overseeing the vast downward sandy bank that led to the beach ahead. Surrounding the ship was a thicket of trees and mountains that could be seen in the great distance.

The sounds were pleasurable. Joy, laughter, and happiness filled the environment. A few of the human crew wore camouflage pants and blue shirts. They seemed to be busier handling various activities, such as moving equipment or handling basic operations inside the ship. Most of the crew, however, were in much more relaxed clothing. Men wore shorts or swimming trunks, being bare-chested as the sun bore down against their bodies. Many of the women wore bikinis or a mixture of bikinis and swimming trunks, choosing to unveil much of their bare skin for the other sex to see and enjoy.

The humans were obviously not alone. Near the beach was a volleyball net. A patch of sand had been formed into a square. From there, at least six individuals were divided into two teams to play volleyball against each other.

One team consisted of two humans, both of them being clean-shaven men. One was a man who carried the facial features of a former Japanese ancestry, possibly a person born on Batrice or Earth, and having a partially mixed complexion and short black hair. He was in the process of serving the ball, ready to hit it into the air, and smacking it over the net. The other man was a Cebravin. He had a pale complexion, was somewhat lankier and skinnier, with longer blond hair. Both men seemed to be in their element, although the Cebravin individual almost seemed distracted with himself. Among the team’s rear, taking up the entire back row was a towering Shal’rein. The anthro shark-like woman was muscular, standing at around 8 to 9 feet in height. Her features consist of purple hair left to flow freely down her shoulders, reddish eyes, gray and purple scale-striped skin, and a gray tail protruding from her rear end. Fins protruded from her arms and tail. She wore a purple and green bikini that exposed much of her midriff, showing early hints of a protruding belly.

The other team consisted of a man with the facial features of a person born in the former United States. He had a pale complexion, short black hair, was clean-shaven, bare-chested, and wore red and blue shorts. On his right arm, there were hints of small crevices reminiscent of an augmented ligament. With him was a Yutilian. The Itrean woman had green scaly skin with hints of blue stripe patterns on her skin, along with green and yellow feathers on her arms and tail. This woman wore a green and brown bikini top with heavy signs of pregnancy. Her belly pressed as far as it could. The other Itrean in the team was an Aksren woman. The anthro oviraptor had a red head and nose crest, with brown scales across her entire body and tail. A notable feature about her was that she had rather large breasts. Despite her being smaller than the Shal’rein, her bust size was much larger in ratio when compared to the Yutilian or Shal’rein woman. She wore a small shawl over the back portion of her head, covering her neck, along with a green bikini that barely held her large breasts in. She was also quite visibly pregnant, having a large stomach, but still smaller in size than the Yutilian woman.

“Heads up!” the man with the volleyball said. He underhanded the ball and sent it flying over the net. The other man on the team slapped the ball into the air, but it only sent it back flying. The Yutilian quickly ran back and used both her scaly hands to shove the ball back over the net. The serving man smacked the ball, but it went flying backward for the Shal’rein to swing her wrist, slamming the ball. However, she used too much force. The ball went flying clear over the net and out of bounds. The Yutilian went to retrieve the ball.

“Girsha’lar, you keep hitting the ball too hard,” the Shal’rein’s teammate told her.

“Shut up, Mizu,” Girsha’lar replied in her deep, feminine voice. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah,” Mizu replied, wiping some of the sandy dirt from his black hair. “Getting us to lose...”

“Heeeyyyy...,” the blonde-haired man said in a somewhat stoned stupor. “Like ... Girshy knows what she’s doing, Mizu-Bro. Shal’rein ladies like ... are used to harder things and stuff like that ... you know?”

“Sure, Dean,” Mizu replied.

“Besides,” Girsha’lar pointed her gray finger at the man on the other side of the net. “I’m ready to make Bransen my bitch!”

Bransen gave a confused look at Girsha’lar. “What?” the man replied, holding his arm out. “How many times have you lost in the arena against me? How many times have I beaten you at volleyball? And ... aren’t I your husband?”

“No excuses, mate!” Girsha’lar sternly replied. “You can be mates and still compete against each other in battle.”

Mizu sighed. “I guess that’s why I’m competing against Li’lo,” he said.

“Yeah, heh,” Dean gave a dumb laugh. “Like ... same with Izzy...”

The Aksren woman gave her quick nods.

“He, he,” the pregnant Yutilian replied with a few chirps in her voice. She quickly approached the boundary and did an underhanded serve, sending the ball over the net. Dean saw the ball flying over the net, heading straight toward him. The duped-up man jumped, using his head to smack the ball toward Mizu.

“Whoa...,” Dean replied, feeling the thump against his head. He watched as Mizu reacted quickly, smacking the ball as it went to him. It caused the other man to reach and smack the ball, sending it in the air towards the lone Shal’rein.

Girsha’lar tried to use restraint. The shark-like woman saw the ball and used her wrist in the position where it was going to fall. She very lightly tapped it, sending it over the net and almost over the boundary, straight in the direction of where the Aksren woman was. However, the pregnant reptilian woman saw the ball land directly onto her large chest. The sound of an inflatable ball impacting against the large set of fatty tissue could be heard. She didn’t have to do anything as the ball was sent bouncing back over the net, taking Mizu by surprise. He threw his wrist up, but the ball slipped past him. Girsha’lar tried to react fast, but also missed the ball. She flew forward and slammed her large shark-like snout into the dirt.

“Seriously, Iz’tre?” Mizu remarked, holding a hand out toward the Aksren woman.

“Like ... way to go, Izzy,” Dean added.

“Ergh...,” Girsha’lar stood up from the dirt, gritting her teeth, and resituating her bra. “Defeated by Gersin boobs...”

Iz’tre slapped her hands together, seemingly pleased. “Gersa blesses me,” the Aksren happily replied in her mixed Spanish, French, and Japanese accented voice.

Mizu went to retrieve the ball. Bransen turned his head to look in the direction of the ship. The smoke billowing from one of the tents was harsh and thick. The man seemed to show some disappointment.

“Really?” Bransen said, holding his hands. “HEY!” Bransen yelled toward the tent. One of the women, a petty officer and fellow cook, was busy waving her spatula at another crewmember. Finally, the two waved their hands at the nearby grill before trying to flip what looked like a piece of meat that was being overcooked.

“Paisley!” Bransen yelled at her, waving his arms at her. “You got the grill set too high! Lower it down by 20 degrees Celsius!”

Paisely, the woman with the spatula, practically gave a smirky, respectful middle finger to Bransen.

“Third fucking time!” Bransen said, putting his hands. “I can smell it from here. You’re going to overcook the cevan again ... ugh...” He turned his head and lowered his voice. “This is what happens when Chief Elimiano leaves, and you only have me as your lead chef for everyone’s shore leave down here.”

“You’re too soft on her,” Girsha’lar said. “She overcooks the fish and it’ll taste like burned shit...”

Mizu walked up with the volleyball in hand. “You’ve gotten to be quite the food critic, Girsha’lar,” he told the shark-like woman.

“My mate cooks well,” she replied, patting her partially distended stomach. “Good eating...”

“I’ll have to stop soon,” Bransen said. “One more serve and I need to check up with Paisely’s hack job.”

“Incoming...,” Mizu said, doing an underhanded serve of the volleyball. The ball was sent flying over the net. Bransen was not in the game yet as the ball flew and missed his hand. Li’lo saw the ball heading in her direction. She ran over, overcompensated her run, and jumped back. She swung her left hand in an attempt to swat the ball. Three of her four fingers impacted the ball. She managed to send the ball back over the net, but not before she lost her footing and crashed onto the dirt. She accidentally landed on her wrist and bent it backward a little bit, causing pain.

“Ow ... ow ... owie,” Li’lo reacted, resetting her arm. She was temporarily out of the round. Mizu saw his wife trip, but she was getting back up. Dean was on it. He slapped the ball up towards Mizu. The man jumped up and smacked the ball over the net. However, Iz’tre did an underhanded slap, sending the ball just enough over the net and towards Girsha’lar. The Shal’rein was ready.

“This time, you’re mine!” Girsha’lar yelled. She balled her four fingers into a fist and did a light punch, sending the ball upward and in Bransen’s direction, still within the boundary.

However, she realized her mistake that Chef Bransen was anticipating this. Seeing the ball was heading towards him, he leaped up. In the short time span, the Shal’rein could see that Bransen’s augmented arm was powering up. The ridges in his right arm glowed a bright blue. Time almost seemed to slow down for the man. The ball was in perfect alignment. Girsha’lar’s eyes went wide, knowing what Bransen was about to do.

With all the power delivered, Bransen’s powerful augmented arm swung hard at the volleyball. There was a sound that reverberated through the whole beach. The hand slammed into the ball, sending it directly towards Girsha’lar. The Shal’rein was left with little choice. She already tried to react quickly, spinning her body at the moment of the ball’s impact. One hand went out in hopes of catching the incoming ball sent hurdling towards her. However, her hand missed as she tumbled to the dirt. Instead, the last thing she did at the same time was try to use her large, fin tail to hit the ball. She regretfully knew her actions led to a mistake. The tail swung hard toward the incoming ball, striking the base edge where her protruding fins were. Pain shot through her tail, while the ball was sent hurdling away, failing to go over the net.

“Argh!” Girsha’lar reacted in pain, gritting her teeth. Bransen smiled and pointed his two fingers at her before he was in the process of walking away.

“Looks like we need to remake the teams,” Mizu said. “Where’s Nir’vina?”

The Shal’rein stood up and looked around. The two looked at the ocean. There was a set of rocky banks, where a fellow engineer, a man with a dark complexion, was dressed in his shorts. He sat back on his lawn chair, wearing a fishing hat and holding a fishing rod in one hand, seemingly enjoying the serene, pristine environment. The line dangled from the rod, waiting for one of the alien-like fish to take the bait.

BOOM ... BOOM ... a series of small explosions could be heard from the ocean. Water would billow out of the water, sending the salty liquid into the air, followed by waves of bubbles. These explosions were minor, but they still echoed through the beaches, drawing the attention of onlookers. However, no one seemed surprised at it. If anything, they were more used to it.

The fisherman didn’t seem impressed, though. He lifted his hat and got out of his chair. He practically waved his rod as a set of dead fish plopped up onto the watery surface. An orange Shal’rein woman plopped out of the water. The shark-like woman immediately began grabbing the dead fish and holding them before swimming toward the beach.

“HEY!” the fisherman yelled at her. “You keep scaring my fish! Stop hogging off all my catches.”

“Explosions always work...,” the Shal’rein responded in a laid-back raspy voice.

“Ah...,” Mizu remarked. “I forgot that Nir’vina was doing her depth charge fishing.”

“Grenade fishing!” Nir’vina remarked. The Shal’rein climbed out of the beach. While she lacked much of the muscle tone of Girsha’lar, she made it up in being lanky. She wore an orange and green bikini that covered her breasts and lower extremities. Her black and bluish hair was soaked. Much like Girsha’lar, the hint of her own pregnancy could be seen from her stomach. In the woman’s hands were at least five dead fish, supposedly killed by the underwater explosions.

“Nir’vina,” Girsha’lar called out to her. “After you’re done playing with your makeshift grenades and bringing in the food, come and join us. We need another player.”

“ ... Fine...,” Nir’vina replied. She walked past the volleyball net and continued to head up the sandy bank toward the cooking tent.

At the same time, Mizu began to hear a light, high-pitched chirping sound that he seemed more attuned to hearing. It even caused Iz’tre to quickly shift towards the incoming sound.