Chapter 10: Spa Day

“New orders coming through,” Ben said, his eyes focused on his display as Mizi drove them across the dunes. “Got a report about what happened with the Rask ambush that we warned them about last night, too.”

“How did they fare?” Lozka asked. “Did they repel the attack?”

“Yes, but ... God damn. Looks like the Rask bombarded the Coalition lines before launching their assault. They hit them hard with what Fleetcom thinks was Naval artillery and ballistic missiles. Nothing too accurate, but they managed to destroy or disable eight vehicles. Thirty-two men dead or injured.”

“Is that a bad outcome for your people?” Lozka asked, pausing to glance over at him. Of course, she had no frame of reference for how the Coalition usually performed.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “that’s not great.”

“My condolences,” she added. “I know the pain of losing packmates to the Rask all too well.”

“But they still won?” Mizi asked, her feathers flashing an angry shade of crimson.

“They routed the Rask, forced them to retreat, but they couldn’t pursue. There was too much chaos, too many injured to secure. They can’t resupply with new vehicles because of the storm, and they can’t drive the wounded back to Elysia, so it looks like they’ll be treating them in the Yagda’s infirmary.”

“That means there are some very angry cats driving around out here,” Mizi muttered.

“We’re being diverted from our original mission,” he continued, reading off the order. “Our new objective is to discover how the Rask were able to shell the convoy and to report the locations of any enemy strongholds back to command. They have a good idea of what direction the artillery strikes came from, but they couldn’t narrow it down by much.”

“I warned that the Rask would not stop at obtaining missiles,” Lozka muttered as she returned to her monitors. “They may have many more weapons of human design.”

“I’m wondering how the hell they got their hands on Naval artillery,” Ben mused. “How would they move them around? They couldn’t have mounted them on sandships, the recoil alone would shake them apart, and that’s if they could even carry the weight.”

“What is ‘Naval artillery’?” Lozka asked.

“Very big railguns,” Mizi replied. “My people have been outfitting our carriers and our orbital stations with them lately. They’re commonly mounted on spacecraft.”

“They also consume a great deal of power,” Ben explained. “They’re usually hooked up to a ship that’s supplying them with juice from a nuclear reactor or six. That’s not something you can just throw in the back of a pickup. Ballistic missiles are easier to transport, launchers can be carried on trucks, but they’d have a hard time moving through the desert.”

“So, they must have built bases?” Mizi asked.

“I don’t see how,” he replied. “If they had started moving supplies or constructing FOBs before the storm, our satellites would have picked them up, and they haven’t had time to build any fortifications since.”

“Underground bases, maybe?” she suggested.

“Maybe, but that would take a hell of a lot of resources.”

“We have only one way to be sure,” Lozka said pointedly, Ben nodding in agreement.

“Mizi, transmitting new heading to you now.”

“I’m not even sure what we’re looking for,” Mizi said, the headlights of the Timberwolf doing their best to cut through the haze. They had been driving for hours, and they hadn’t come across anything yet.

“There has to be some kind of FOB out here,” Ben grumbled, poring over the satellite images that occupied his monitors. “I can spot a few locations where the Rask might have been able to build fortifications, but none of them are within the area that Fleetcom thinks the artillery was fired from. We must be missing something...”

“Our search would be far easier if not for this wretched storm,” Lozka added, swiveling her turret as she scanned the surrounding dunes. “We will not be able to see such fortifications until we are practically on top of them.”

“Is there anything you can tell me about the Rask that might help us?” he asked. “You’re our resident expert.”

“I have never known the Rask to favor static defenses,” she replied, turning her eyes back to her camera feed. “Their doctrine is all about mobility, striking quickly, then fading before their victims can respond. Perhaps they have been forced to change those tactics in order to integrate these artillery weapons that you speak of into their strategy, but it seems at odds with their usual behavior.”

“Well, we’ve seen the biggest sandships they can build first-hand, and they aren’t nearly big enough to carry that kind of armament,” Ben said. “I don’t know how else they could employ Naval railguns.”

He turned his attention to another readout, narrowing his eyes as he reached out to tap the monitor.

There it is again,” he muttered, Lozka turning her head to glance at him.

“What?” she asked.

“I’m not sure yet. One of the tools in a Timberwolf’s sensor suite is a seismic detector and ground-penetrating radar, they’re usually used to pick up Bugs tunneling beneath the ground. Over the last couple of hours, I’ve been getting some weird readings, small microquakes that are tripping the sensors. There’s barely any geological info to cross-reference it with, so there’s no way for me to tell if this is just normal seismic activity for this region. The massif that we passed through not long ago was volcanic in origin, so it wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary.”

“You would not bring it up if you did not think it worthy of note,” Lozka said, Ben giving her a nod.

“I suppose you’re right. I’ll keep an eye on it, you never know. For now, I guess let’s pick a likely destination and drive there. I’m seeing a rock formation at bearing two-two-five, let’s go check that out. Looks like a suitable place for the Rask hole up.”

“Let me see,” Lozka said, Ben swiping the map over to one of her monitors. “Yes, this looks a likely place. There is some kind of oasis in the center of these rocks, they would want to be close to a source of fresh water.”

“We need to make a plan before we approach,” Mizi added, “we can’t just drive up there and honk our horn to find out if there any Rask hiding inside.”

“Yeah,” Ben said, zooming in on the satellite image of the formation. “Looks like there’s a break in the rocks on the South side. We’d have to proceed on foot, but we could get in through there.

“Leave that to me,” Lozka said. “I could slip inside under cover of night and investigate. The darkness will hinder the Rask, but my people are nocturnal.”

“If you feel up to it, sure,” Ben replied. “We can park up at a safe distance and wait for you to scope it out. If we find Rask, then it’s not our job to deal with them anyway, we’ll just report their position to the convoy and move on.”

“Can you send me the new coordinates, Commander?” Mizi asked.

“Done,” he said, swiping at his monitor. “Let me know when we get near.”

“Silent running,” Ben advised, “let’s get as close as we can.”

Mizi shut off the headlights, switching into a lower gear as they began to crawl towards their target, dusk making the visibility even worse. The land had become rockier as they had approached the potential Rask hideout, the rolling dunes giving way to flatter terrain that was strewn with stones, the occasional crumbling tower of rock appearing in the swirling dust. This may once have been another plateau, the jutting stone eaten away by the elements over eons. The Wolf’s tires managed it well, and it hadn’t slowed them down very much.

“I’m amazed by how many distinct biomes the Borealan deserts have,” Ben mused, watching through the external cameras. “We’ve seen dunes, volcanic massifs that look like they were carved out of onyx, oases. I can see low mountain ranges on the satellite images, salt flats, all kinds of stuff.”

It seemed that they were entering a field of bizarre rock formations, Ben watching as they passed close to one, more appearing all around the vehicle as Mizi navigated between them. It was oddly eerie, they emerged from the haze like ghosts. The jutting pillar of stone was maybe ten feet high, paradoxically bulbous towards its peak, and narrow at its base. It looked like a carving of a mushroom cloud, the rock smooth, as though it had been polished by the hand of a sculptor. In reality, wind erosion was the culprit. With the savage seasonal storms that ravaged these deserts, the formations must have been carved out by a millennia of airborne sand. Some of them resembled trees until they came into clear focus, while others were simple spires with pointed tips. Some had formed sweeping arches, and there were some that had lost their base altogether, depositing large boulders on the sand.

“This is surreal,” he muttered. “I feel like we’re driving into an expressionist painting.”

“It’s like a stone forest,” Mizi said, her feathers flashing yellow as she examined her displays.

“That’s the power of erosion for you,” Ben added. “It probably took millions of years for the wind and sand to carve these out.”

“We’re coming up on our destination,” the Valbaran warned, glancing over her shoulder at Lozka. “You ready?”

“Yes,” the feline replied, beginning to unbuckle her harness. “Commander, I cede control of the turret to you.”

Ben watched as she climbed into the troop bay, wrapping the mesh cloak that she had fashioned from the camouflaged netting about her shoulders, and securing her protective goggles. She pulled her crossbow down from the weapon rack, fastening a pouch of what looked like iron bolts to her belt, checking her gear.

“Don’t you want something with a bit more punch?” he asked, rocking in his seat as Mizi brought them to a stop. “We have PDWs.”

“My crossbow is silent,” she replied, “and you have seen my aim for yourself.”

He remembered their first run-in with a sandskiff, when she had saved his life from a Rask pirate with a pinpoint shot to the head.

“Yeah, I remember,” he conceded. “Just ... don’t forget that we’re only here to observe, not to fight this war ourselves. Don’t fire if you can avoid it.”

“As you wish,” she replied, making her way to the door. “I will be but a shadow.”

“And Lozka,” he added, the Araxie turning to look back at him as the ramp began to lower. “Be careful out there.”

She gave him a rare smile, then stepped out into the storm, the wind whipping at her cape as she darted out of sight. He turned back to his monitors to see that Mizi was peering at him, her plumage standing erect in a shade of pink.

“Lozka will be alright,” the little reptile chirped, “she knows what she’s doing.”

“I’m not ‘that’ worried about her,” he replied, his cheeks flushing a similar shade as he ducked out of sight behind the monitors. He heard Mizi chuckle to herself, settling into her seat.

“You don’t need to be ashamed of worrying about your flock,” she added. “I’d be more concerned if you didn’t.”

“Crew,” he corrected.

“Crew, flock, pack,” Mizi replied with a flutter of feathers that might be analogous to a shrug. “The lines are getting pretty blurry.”

It had been a good hour, and Ben was starting to get more worried. The cold was creeping in, too. Mizi was starting to shiver, and he could see his own breath.

“I see something,” the Valbaran whispered, Ben switching to her camera views. There was a dark figure approaching, their silhouette becoming more distinct as they made their way through the sandstorm. They were definitely Borealan, but could they be sure that it was Lozka?

“Think it’s her?” he asked, lowering his voice reflexively despite the fact that the person wouldn’t stand a chance of overhearing their conversation.

“I hope so,” Mizi hissed, her three-fingered hands gripping the steering wheel tighter as the figure neared. They both exhaled a sigh of relief in tandem when they saw that it was indeed their crewmate, Mizi’s feathers flashing a shade of mellow green.

Ben crawled into the troop bay to greet her, shielding his face from the blowing sand as the ramp started to lower. She hurried inside, closing it quickly behind her, shaking herself like a wet dog to dislodge some of the sand that was clinging to her shiny fur.

“Find anything?” Ben asked, her emerald eyes peering out at him from beneath her camouflaged cowl as she removed her goggles.

“Yes, but not a Rask camp,” she replied cryptically. “There is a natural rock formation that creates a ring-shaped wall, as seen on your map,” she continued breathlessly. “It is high enough to shield one from the storm. There is a recessed basin in the center, and inside that basin is some kind of oasis, surrounded by discolored rock. The water bubbles and belches steam as though it is boiling, its heat warding off the cold. I have never seen its like before.”

“Geothermal springs!” Ben exclaimed, his smile making her cock her head. “This whole area must still be volcanically active. It happens when hot groundwater rises from the planet’s crust.”

“Hot springs?” Mizi asked, leaning over the back of her chair with wide eyes.

“Why does the presence of boiling water please you both so?” Lozka asked, glancing between the two in confusion.

“Commander!” Mizi whined, practically vibrating in her seat as she struggled to restrain herself.

“Well,” he began, considering for a moment. “Night has fallen, and we’d probably just stay parked here anyway. I’d need to check the PH level and temperature of the water, but even if we can’t take a dip, sleeping somewhere warmer than the troop bay would do wonders for morale. Sure, why not? Let’s camp out in the basin tonight. Lozka,” he added, “you’re sure there were no signs of any Rask?”

“None, Commander,” she replied. “There is no evidence of them ever having been here that I could find. No sign of Lakeless, either.”

“Then we,” he said, clapping his hands together gleefully. “Are going camping.”

Ben and Lozka secured the camouflaged tarp over the Timberwolf, then made their way to the break in the rock wall, Lozka carrying Mizi in her arms so that the little creature wouldn’t get blown around in the storm. The feline was so light on her feet, hopping over the rocks that protruded from the sand, seeming to flow through the environment like water. It was a little harder for Ben, the risk of twisting an ankle was real, but she slowed her graceful strides so that he could keep pace.

The night was doubly dark thanks to the swirling sand that obscured the sky. Ben could barely see a few meters in any direction. He had to turn on the flashlight that was mounted on his helmet, and even that barely did the trick. It was disorientating, getting lost in the desert would have been alarmingly easy. He tried to keep Lozka in sight, her camouflaged cloak whipping in the gale.

The wall rose up in front of them, smooth and oddly bulbous, like the flowstone that one might expect to find in a cave. This formation had not been carved out by the elements like the towers that surrounded it. The water that welled up from deep within the planet must be rich in minerals, which had been deposited here over time. As they neared, he could see that the rock was slick. It reflected the beam of his flashlight, steam rising from it in the cold air. All about the base of the formation were small, scrubby plants, patches of colorful mold clinging to the stone. Life in this desert took every opportunity that it could, eking out a living wherever there was a drop of moisture to be found.

Lozka led him around to the entrance, a break in the wall about six feet across, and he paused to place a few proximity sensors around the perimeter. If anyone should try to sneak up on them, they would know about it.

As soon as the wall was to his back, Ben felt the wind abate, the hammering of airborne sand against his suit fading. He was standing in a kind of crater that was maybe thirty meters across, the interior of which was full of water, its surface shimmering in the beam of his flashlight as he swept it around the area. There were a few individual pools that were separated by more flowstone, the surrounding rock discolored by algae and lichens. Steam rose from the crystal-clear water, Ben already finding that he had to wipe away the condensation from his visor. Lozka had been right. It was like a sauna in here, staving off the night’s chill.

“If I had to guess,” he said, walking around the edge of one of the pools. “The water probably came up to the top of these walls at one point, but it slowly receded, leaving these mineral formations behind it. This whole place must have been way more active at one point. I wonder what it might have looked like?” He glanced back at his companions, Lozka recoiling as he accidentally shone his light at her. “Sorry,” he added, “I keep forgetting that you can see in the dark.”

She set Mizi down, the Valbaran bobbing over to join him, leaning over the edge to look into the clear water through her visor.

“Don’t touch it yet,” he warned, slinging off his pack and fishing inside it for a moment. “Geothermal springs can be hot enough to cause third-degree burns, and they can be acidic enough to melt right through your suit.” He withdrew a tool that resembled a long, telescoping rod with a built-in screen on one end, dipping it into the water. “Temperature is around forty degrees centigrade, PH is seven, and ... I’m reading alkaline minerals. Perfect.”

“It’s safe?” Mizi asked, her tinny voice coming through on her helmet’s speakers. He nodded, the color panels on her suit flashing green, the alien beginning to take off her helmet.

“Hang on, let’s make camp first,” he added. “I see a suitable place over there on the right.”

They made their way over to a rocky outcrop, Ben setting his pack down, pulling out a collapsible stove and some ration packets. Out here, they could actually do some real cooking. For light, they had a portable lantern that bathed the surrounding area in a dull glow, providing enough illumination to see by. It just barely reached out to the walls of the basin, creating dark shadows. He unrolled his sleeping bag and lay it out on the warm rocks, soon realizing that Mizi had not brought her own with her. Of course, she probably expected to share with Lozka, she had become accustomed to that by now. He watched as Lozka lay out her sleeping bag on the other side of their makeshift camp, a knot forming in his stomach.

Would they take offense to him sleeping alone? He had already shared a sleeping bag with them back in the Timberwolf, but that had been because of the cold, or so he had told himself at the time. It was plenty warm and humid here, downright balmy, the steam that rose from the pools making it feel like a sauna. He had plenty of time to decide how he wanted to handle it, in any case.

He rummaged through some of the MREs and selected a few choice ingredients, setting them cooking in a small pot. Lozka joined him beside the stove, attracted by the scent of meat, watching him as he began to stir the concoction with a plastic spoon. His eyes were soon drawn to Mizi as she began to disrobe, taking off her helmet and slipping her feather sheaths out of its flexible tubes. She stripped off her pressure suit, the black material contrasting sharply with her green scales, the humidity that filled the air making it an even more arduous process than usual. While she didn’t sweat like he and Lozka did, it seemed that her waxy hide was a moisture magnet, probably evolved to help keep her cool on her home planet.

She danced on the spot as she struggled to get the garment past her wide hips and over the thick base of her tail, the impact making the softer parts of her anatomy quiver. After finally succeeding in freeing herself, she lay the suit on the rocks beside Lozka’s sleeping bag. Now, she wore only her tube top and her knee-length shorts, just enough to preserve her modesty. Her underclothes were so tight that the elastic cut into the meat of her thighs, creating little indents.

She stretched, extending the sheaths on her head and arms, Ben’s eyes drawn to the way that her wet scales reflected the yellow glow of the lamp. They looked so much like skin under normal conditions, but now, each and every one seemed to catch the light to make her glisten. It made her look like she was studded with tiny jewels, the droplets of moisture that condensed on her smooth hide adding to the effect.

Lozka watched with apparent amusement as her companion trotted down to the edge of the nearest pool, dipping the tip of her tail into the water like a human might dip their toe. Once she was certain that the temperature was to her liking, she gingerly lowered herself into it, sinking up to her long neck as her feather sheaths erupted in a display of green and pink. A long, drawn-out sigh escaped her scaly lips, her eyes closing as she floated. She was remarkably buoyant.

“That’s why she was so excited,” Ben explained, getting Lozka’s attention. “Don’t the Araxie take hot baths? You don’t have geothermal springs, saunas, hot tubs?”

“Why should the temperature of the water matter?” she asked, Ben clapping his hands together gleefully.

“Trust me, you’re gonna love this. Go on, go on,” he added as he waved her away. “I’ll take care of the cooking, go take a bath. And don’t be alarmed, it’s supposed to be hot!”

Still looking rather confused, she removed her protective goggles and her camouflaged cape, shedding her chest rig and belts before making her way down to join Mizi at the water’s edge. Just like when she had bathed in the desert oasis, she kept her leather shorts and top on. Perhaps mimicking her friend, she dipped the end of her furry tail into the pool, then quickly withdrew it.

“It is too hot,” she protested, turning to look back at Ben with a scowl on her face.

“You’ll get used to it after a minute or two,” he called over to her. He was worried that she might refuse to go any further, but after a little coaxing from an uncharacteristically mellow Mizi, she eventually elected to set foot in the water. She was cautious at first, but as he had suspected, the tension began to melt from her sinewy body as soon as she was immersed up to her shoulders. Mizi glanced over at Ben, the two of them sharing a grin as their companion sank a little deeper.

“The heat is supposed to be good for you, and there’s something about the minerals that people claim is beneficial,” he explained as he tended to the simmering pot of stew. “I don’t know if there’s much truth to that, but it sure feels good.”

“Are you going to join us, Commander?” Mizi asked as she leaned on the smooth rock by the edge of the pool. Lozka had already begun to run her hands across her silky coat, cleaning away any residue of sand and sweat. It was a little futile, they would have to walk back through the storm to get to the Timberwolf tomorrow morning, but it must be a relief to get clean. He was looking forward to taking a good bath himself.

“In a minute,” he replied, “this is gonna take a little while to cook.”

“What are you making?” she asked.

“I’ve been paying close attention to what you guys eat, and I ‘think’ I’ve come up with a recipe for a stew that we should all be able to share. Eating together is one thing, but actually sharing a dish is something else.”

After stirring for a couple more minutes, he began to take off his own suit, having just as much difficulty as Mizi. The sweat and humidity were making the material stick to his skin, but he managed to get it off after a little struggling. He stripped down to his shorts, taking off his tank top, then realized that he had an audience. Mizi and Lozka were both watching him from the pool, Ben resisting the urge to cover himself as he made his way over to them.

He lowered himself into the water, the heat seeming to penetrate deep into his muscles, hesitating when it reached his crotch. His shorts weren’t exactly designed to be used as a bathing suit, the fabric becoming waterlogged as he let himself sink deeper.