Chapter 22: Respite

The Timberwolf pulled away from the crawler, Mizi watching the massive vehicle diminish on the video feed from the rear cameras. She had gotten to see both the crawler and the Yagda up close, and she had chatted incessantly about the latter for a good two hours when they had returned to the convoy. They had taken some time to rest up and refuel, and now they were heading West under new orders.

“Let’s keep the speed up, Mizi,” Ben advised as he checked the satellite map. “We’ve received the grid coordinates that we’re supposed to check out. We’re going to be scouting the East Gate of the Rask territory along with the rest of the recon company. Looks like the attack is going ahead, we need to get eyes on what kind of defenses the Rask have prepared.”

“Oh no,” Mizi warbled sarcastically, “more time alone in the desert. However will we pass the time?”

“I still have misgivings about allying with this disgraced Admiral,” Lozka grumbled from her seat to his left. “The Rask cannot be trusted under any circumstances.”

“The way I understand it, they’re trying to install a new leader who will be friendly to the Coalition,” Ben replied. “It’s not like we were ever going to wipe the Rask off the face of the planet or anything like that, but their ability to wage war is going to be nonexistent for years after the losses they’ve taken. If they put up a lot of resistance when the convoy rolls through, they’ll have a lot of rebuilding to do as well. Urban warfare is messy and destructive.”

“The Coalition will probably keep a peacekeeping force in the territory for a long time, too,” Mizi added. “Don’t worry, Loz, your people are going to be safe.”

“I am glad to be taking part in this final battle,” Lozka continued. “We shall breach their gate, the palace shall fall, and the Matriarch shall be deposed once and for all.”

“We have to get there first,” Ben chuckled. “It’s gonna take a few days, and now that the Rask fleet isn’t gunning for us anymore, it might even be a pleasant drive.”

“I can think of some ways to make it more pleasant,” Mizi trilled, her headdress flashing pink.

“Will your team be in place when the time comes?” Sarif asked, Brenner nodding his head as he pointed to one of the many small breaches in the jungle that encircled the Rask territory.

“Yes, sir. We’ll infiltrate through one of these smaller breaks. We can move through the jungle itself if we have to, but that will slow us down, and our timing will need to be precise.”

“This is your target,” Sarif said, the three-dimensional map zooming in on the Rask capital city. Everything was made from sandstone, the small, squat buildings lining narrow streets made from cobblestone. In the center of it all was a far more elaborate structure, a sprawling palace with a large courtyard that enclosed a small oasis within its walls. The Lieutenant Colonel pointed to the wall that ringed the building. “Our intelligence is limited, but we expect the Matriarch’s compound to be well-defended. You’ll need to reach the perimeter wall undetected, which may actually prove easier if we end up having to push into the city. Once you’re there, stand by and wait for further instructions. You need to be ready to breach and storm the palace if Operation Checkmate fails. If the Admiral can’t take down the Matriarch, or if she goes AWOL, the Admiralty wants everything inside that compound neutralized.”

“Including the Admiral?” Brenner asked.

“Everyone,” Sarif repeated. “If Admiral Korbaz isn’t serving UNN interests, then we have no further use for her. Capturing is preferable to killing, but they won’t come quietly, so do what you have to do. The Rask military is very hierarchical, and we expect their cohesion to crumble if we take out their leadership.”

“And if the operation is a success?’

“Then you were never there,” Sarif replied.

Having the run of the crawler was a surreal experience. Cooper had spent so long imprisoned on the vessel, peering out from behind the bars of cells and cages, being manhandled through the corridors by burly guards. Now, Korbaz had ordered her crew to treat him as though he were a high-ranking Rask, just like Vitza. They still gave him odd looks when he passed by, but they didn’t dare mess with him, not wanting to get on the future Matriarch’s bad side. Nowhere was off-limits to him, that wasn’t how the Rask did things, so he was able to explore the entire vehicle without supervision while Korbaz was busy sending messages to the territory.

His explorations eventually took him down to the engine room, where the nuclear reactor was housed. It was contained within a huge, reinforced sarcophagus, the room filled with monitoring equipment and thick, insulating electrical cables that fed juice to the rest of the gargantuan machine. With a start, he noticed that Vitza was lurking amongst the pipes to his left, a tablet computer clasped in his furry hands as he ran diagnostics on the equipment.

“Hey Chief,” he said, one of Vitza’s ears swiveling in his direction.

“Corporal,” he replied tersely, tearing his eyes away from his screen for a moment. “What brings you down here? Does the Admiral have need of me?”

“Nah. I’m just wandering,” he replied, sauntering over to the Rask. “I’d tell you that I’m unarmed, but...” He waved his prosthetic, wiggling his polymer fingers. “What are you doing all on your own in the dark?”

“I must check the couplings on these cooling conduits,” he explained, gesturing to one of the thick pipes that snaked along the wall. “The crawlers were not made to handle this kind of terrain, and I have discovered that the extra vibration has a tendency to loosen them.”

“This thing is your baby, eh?” Cooper asked he leaned on a nearby console.

“I retrofitted them,” he replied, using one of his fleshy pads to tap at his tablet. “I am responsible for their upkeep.”

“You must be pretty relieved about the Admiral challenging the Matriarch, right?”

“Yes,” Vitza replied, sighing as he realized that Cooper would continue to interrupt his work until he got what he wanted. “I am relieved that I will not have to die in battle.”

“No, I mean you’ll have a Matriarch who’s friendly to the Coalition. Closer cooperation means more tech flowing into the territory, more stuff to tinker with. Maybe some opportunities for off-planet work and training. You got any plans for what you want to do when this is all over?”

He paused for a moment before replying, as though afraid that someone else might overhear them.

“I like ... tractors.”

“Tractors?” Cooper asked, grinning at him.

“I learned of them when I was working with the UNN’s engineering corps,” Vitza explained, becoming more enthusiastic. “There are massive, autonomous vehicles that can sow and harvest crops. I saw dusters, too. Airborne drones that could spray insecticides and fertilizers. A fleet of them can be operated by only a handful of individuals. If the Admiral were to become the new Matriarch, do you think that ... she might permit me to acquire such vehicles?”

“You want to start a farm?” Cooper asked. His smile was not one of mockery or derision, he was simply amused to see the engineer come out of his shell when he had the opportunity to discuss subjects that he was passionate about. “I can tell you that the Coalition allocates funds for the development of its member states, and agriculture is something that I think the Rask territory sorely needs. You lads will have to start growing your own food and greening your deserts if you can’t live off piracy anymore. You’ll probably have to make up with the Elysians if you want seeds, though. Importing Earth plants would fuck up your ecosystem.”

“Yes, there will be much to do,” he replied. “I have had my fill of building killing machines, I think.”

“Speaking of killing machines, you’re our expert when it comes to Rask tech. Let us know if you think of anything that we might need to know about.”

Vitza nodded, turning back to his work.

“Remember, this is only sparring,” Cooper warned as he hurried along beside Korbaz. “These guys have come to teach you, so you’ll have to meet them halfway.”

“I am not as impulsive as you imagine me to be,” she replied, stopping before the door to one of the prefabs. “I know my own strength, I will not injure them.”

“It’s not ‘them’ I’m worried about,” he muttered, the door sliding open with a whoosh.

They emerged into one of the prefabs, the purple carpet now clear of furniture, the chairs and tables pushed up against the walls to make an open space where there was room to practice. Standing in the middle were two Marines clad in UNN jumpsuits, halting their conversation when they saw Cooper and Korbaz enter. The two parties greeted one another briefly, the men introducing themselves.

“My name is Corporal Sawyer, I’m a brown belt in Judo,” the taller of the two began. He had a chiseled jawline, his brown hair cropped short in a buzz cut. His accent placed his origin somewhere around the Midwestern United States, or maybe the Franklin colony. “And this is PFC Reyes,” he added as he gestured to his companion. Reyes was a little shorter, his features suggesting that he was of Southeast Asian heritage, maybe Filipino. “He’s been doin’ Aikido for a few years. We’re not exactly instructors. I came here to drive an APC, and Reyes is a mechanic, but the Lieutenant Colonel asked for anyone who had some experience with martial arts, so ... here we are.”

“I’m Corporal Cooper, and this is Admiral Korbaz,” he said as he gestured to his towering counterpart. “She’s going to be fighting the Matriarch in a few days, and she needs any edge that she can get. Her opponent is larger, stronger, and a more experienced fighter. Problem is, the outcome of the war kind of depends on her winning.”

“Yeah, they briefed us before we set out,” Sawyer replied.

“So, you want throws, holds, trips?” Reyes asked. “Bodyweight stuff?”

“Anything that you guys think will help,” Cooper said with a shrug. “I can box, but Borealans aren’t much for punching.”

“We’ll need to get an idea of how these fights usually go down,” Sawyer said, craning his neck to address Korbaz. “Can you demonstrate some Rask fighting techniques?”

She shrugged off her leather jacket, tossing it to Cooper as though he was her attendant. He scowled at her, resisting the urge to let it drop to the carpet. She stretched for a few moments, rolling her shoulders and flexing her claws, her tanned skin contrasting with her white tank top. Cooper had to fight to keep his eyes off her bust, there would be time for that later...

Korbaz showed the visitors a few moves that consisted mostly of claw swipes and elbow jabs. The Rask were endowed with natural weapons, so it made sense for them to focus primarily on those. There was no reason to develop Karate if you had knives for fingers. They couldn’t punch in the way that a human could, either, as their sharp talons weren’t retractable. Any impact would drive them into their own palms. Seeing her move when she wasn’t drunk off her face was a little unnerving. She was so fast and strong, her claws cutting through the air with an audible whistle.

The two Marines discussed for a minute, then seemed to come to some kind of agreement, turning back to Korbaz.

“We have a few ideas,” Sawyer began, “but we think you’re goin’ to need someone of ... uh ... your own size to spar with.”

“It’s not that a human couldn’t use these moves on a Rask,” Reyes added. “But a lot of them are designed to make you lose your balance, and having a five-hundred-pound alien fall on one of us in one-point-three Gs isn’t going to be a fun time.”

“I will call in one of the guards to serve as a sparring partner,” Korbaz replied, moving over to one of the many intercoms that were spread throughout the crawler. After a series of growls and hisses, a Rask soldier clad in their usual blend of leather and ceramic armor stepped into the room. He removed the armor on her instruction, his amber eyes darting between the three humans as he waited for further orders, no doubt confused by her abrupt summons.

“You speak English?” Sawyer asked.

“Well enough,” he replied in a gruff voice.

“Good. What we’re going to be doin’ today is teaching your Admiral some new moves, and we’ll need your help. Me and Reyes will demonstrate, and then you’ll be trying to mimic us while we instruct you. I know that you cats can be testy about being touched, but contact is necessary, and your boss is gonna be throwin’ you around a lot. Think you can handle that?”

He looked to Korbaz, and she hissed something in their native language, the guard nodding his head obediently.

“Let’s start off with some armbars,” Reyes said.

“Watch closely,” Sawyer said, grappling with Reyes in the middle of the carpet. “This is called a foot sweep. The idea is to trip your opponent and throw ‘em off-balance.”

Korbaz wiped her brow as she watched him throw his counterpart to the ground, her caramel skin drenched with sweat. They had been at it for hours, and the Rask seemed to tire more quickly than their human counterparts. There were no gym mats, and the carpet didn’t provide as much cushion as one might have expected due to the high gravity, leaving the Admiral’s unfortunate sparring partner bruised and sore. They were so much heavier than their instructors, and the forces at play were completely different, which was something that everyone had learned together during the exercise.

“Now you try,” Sawyer continued, taking Reyes’ hand as he pulled him to his feet. “Up you get, buddy,” he grunted. “This high gravity sure does take its toll, I feel like I’ve been beaten with baseball bats.”

Korbaz and her partner took up their stance, the two Marines reaching up to guide their limbs into new positions.

“Give it a try,” Reyes said, the humans retreating to a safe distance. Korbaz kicked the guard’s foot out from under him, doing a pretty good job of copying the move, sending him crashing to the deck with a loud thud. He groaned as he lifted himself up, rubbing his elbow. Korbaz had insisted that Borealans had dense bones that were adapted to this environment, protecting them from falls, but Cooper still cringed every time he saw one of them drop.

He could see that Korbaz was getting too tired to continue. It was time to call it quits for the day.

“So,” he said, clapping his hands together as he rose from his seat on a pile of cushions that had been stacked in the corner of the room. “What do you think, guys? Does she show any promise? Is this going to work out?”

“She’s better than I was when I started out,” Sawyer replied, wiping his brow with the back of his sleeve. “Considerin’ that this is all new to her and that she’s startin’ cold, I’d say she’s doin’ alright. We gotta be realistic, I won’t pretend like we’re gonna make a blackbelt out of her in just a few days, but we can give the Matriarch a few surprises.”

“Being big and strong is advantageous,” Reyes added, “but practice and experience are what win fights.”

“Thanks, guys,” Cooper said. “We’ll pick it up same time tomorrow.”

The two Marines set off towards the exit, Cooper and Korbaz making their way in the direction of her quarters as the hapless guard limped his way back to his post.

“You sure that guy is alright?” Cooper asked, the door to the prefab closing behind them.

“Most bouts involve lacerations, not just bruises,” Korbaz replied. “He will be fine.”

“Do you think this is going to work?” he continued as they made their way through the banquet hall, the smell of cooked meat reaching his nose. The table was occupied by a few crew members who were digging into a feast, the aliens pausing to glance up at him as he passed, bowing their heads to Korbaz.

“I was skeptical at first,” she replied, “but there may be something to these techniques. I find them oddly passive. Redirecting, blocking, countering, subduing. It is a fittingly human fighting style.”

“Hopefully, you can learn enough to have it make a difference,” Cooper said as they walked through another lavish prefab. They reached the door to her quarters, the panel sliding back to let them enter. The room had been cleaned up since he had last seen it. The fallen drapes had been removed, the glass from the shower and decanters had been cleaned away, and the bed had been made. The cage was still there, but he knew that he wouldn’t be spending any more nights behind those iron bars.

There was a sudden flurry of movement, Cooper finding himself pressed up against the closed door, Korbaz reaching towards the control panel to lock it. Before he had a chance to ask her what she was doing, she brought her lips to his neck, pinching his skin with her sharp teeth.

“Sparring can be so frustrating,” she hissed, crawling her soft lips up his jugular. She nibbled on his earlobe, sucking it into her warm mouth and chewing on it softly, her sordid whispering seeming to fill his head. “Hours of playfighting with no outlet...”

Cooper grunted as he felt her push her thigh between his legs, pressing it against his growing erection, lifting his feet off the carpet for a moment.

“I suppose you want me to bail you out again?” he asked, reaching around her wide hips to delve his prosthetic hand into her rump through the clinging leather of her pants. It was like a second skin, smooth and cool, offering some resistance when he tried to sink his fingers into her plump cheek. He applied more force, taking a handful of flesh, feeling the firm muscle tense beneath it.

“Oh, is that what you’ve been doing?” she chuckled.

“You got time?” he asked, sliding his other hand beneath her jacket. He felt the heat of her glass-smooth skin, his fingers gliding on the layer of sweat that still coated it. He roamed higher, feeling her flat tummy tense beneath his palm, the twin rows of her abdominal muscles rising up to greet him.

“A few minutes,” she breathed. “I must return to the conning tower shortly, I was supposed to be meeting with the Crewmasters to discuss the situation at the gate.”

“I reckon I can get you off before your next appointment,” Cooper replied. He slid his hand out from beneath her jacket, reaching up to pull down the zipper. The weight of her ample breasts helped to part the leather garment, supported only by the sweat-stained tank top that she wore beneath it, her cleavage misted with droplets of sudor as it peeked out above the low-cut neckline. Their size and heft never failed to enrapture him, her stature putting them at eye level, her every subtle movement making the delicate fat wobble.

Unable to resist, he pushed his face into them, tasting her sweat on his tongue as her familiar scent filled his lungs. He couldn’t reach her neck, so he contented himself with kissing her chest, feeling her arch her back as she pushed out her bosom in invitation.

“Such confidence,” she cooed, pressing his erection into the meat of her thigh through her pants. “But if memory serves, it was you who finished first last time.”

“Rematch,” he muttered, raising his hand to her bosom. He lifted one of her heavy breasts from below, watching it drape itself over his hand like molten metal, her velvet flesh bulging between his fingers when he squeezed it through the fabric of her top. It bounced when he released it, springing back to its original shape like a rubber ball.

“For once in your life, try not to waste my time with talk,” she said as she began to unfasten her belt. Cooper followed her lead, starting to pull down the zipper on his pressure suit.

“Do me a favor and don’t tear this one up,” he shot back, pulling down the shorts that he wore beneath it to expose his member. He was as hard as a rock, his cock bobbing in the air, Korbaz’s amber eyes peering down at it covetously from far above his head. “It was hard enough to bullshit my way through explaining what happened to the first one.”

“You presume to be able to tell me what to do?” she chuckled, freeing herself from her belt and unbuttoning her pants. She withdrew her thigh from between his legs, undoing her fly just enough to give Cooper a glimpse of tanned skin, a sliver of pink flesh already glistening with moisture. “If tearing off your clothes strikes my fancy, then that is what I shall do,” she added. Her furry hands tickled his skin as she parted his suit wider, exposing more of his chest, drawing stinging trails on his skin with her claws.

“As long as you’re willing to deal with the fucking requisitions officer after the fact,” he replied, sucking in a sharp gasp as she leaned in to bite his neck again. She still had him crammed up against the door, boxing him in with her bulk, and that seemed to be the way she wanted him today.

Korbaz drew closer, leaning on the panel above his head with a furred forearm, her boobs bumping against his face through her tank top as she repositioned herself. She had to crouch a little to bring their loins into line, Cooper feeling her silky fur brush his shaft as she took his pulsing member between her fingers.

There was no need to warm her up, sparring had been foreplay enough, her loins already drooling as she guided his glans between her puffy lips. Heat and wetness encompassed him as she slid him inside her, her cushiony, satin flesh greeting him with a teasing spasm. She took him to the base, thrusting her hips against his, crushing him up against the door. Cooper found himself breathless, but it was more a result of the sudden wave of bliss than the impact, her slimy insides seeming to wrap around him like a silk glove. Even when they were both holding completely still, the sensation of being joined sent shivers of pleasure rolling through them. Her passage squeezed and kneaded in its ceaseless contractions, his member flexing and throbbing inside her, every subtle twitch felt by both.

“Fuck,” Cooper groaned, digging his fingers into her hips just above the low cut of her pants.

“If you insist,” she cooed, starting to move. She wasted no time, rocking her hips into him, her pace slow and deliberate. She was so damned strong and heavy, every impact buffeting him, her breasts swaying beneath her cotton top. He reached up to lift its hem, her boobs dropping from beneath the garment when it cleared them, bouncing against her torso. She bared her teeth in a snarl as he brought his hands to them, mauling them with his fingers, shaping them like balls of clay. His feline partner growled as he maneuvered one of her nipples between his lips, lashing it with his tongue.

“I’d like to see you begging for head again,” he said, pausing to pinch her sensitive nipple between his lips and teeth. A tremor passed through her, her churning passage clamping down on him ever tighter, her excitement seeping down her inner thighs. “I guess that will have to wait until tonight.”

“Your colleagues have been teaching me the secrets of human fighting techniques,” she purred, “are you so sure that you won’t be the one begging?”