Chapter 9

The former Captain Yetna watched the coastline approach. It was evening and the mists that were infamous around this region were drawing in thick and fast – shrouding the exact point where the safe sea ended and the dead-zone around the Deadman’s Coast began. She knew that crossing it was not an either or thing – there were ships that had sailed within a stone’s throw of the coast before being struck down, and others that had merely blundered within eyesight that had been struck. But there was an agreed upon point where it stopped being a gamble and started being a certatiny.

“Do we throw the anchor now?” Chinsara asked, quietly, her voice muffled by the gathering mist.

“Yes,” Yetna said.

Chinsara looked from her to Tulon, who had her telescope to her eyes.

“Do it,” Tulon said.

Yetna grumbled. “I’m already going to be executed by the Empress for doing this, you can at least trust me.”

“Humph,” Chinsara said, then put her tropical muscles to work – her and the other sailors. They all threw the anchor as the sail was reefed and the ship came to a stately halt in the mists.

“All right, Imp,” Tulon said, her voice grim. “What’s the trick?”

Yetna sighed, then pointed. “There’s the coast – and I think we’ve come up on the right latitude ... there! There it is!” She pointed and they all peered into the mist, at the faint glimmer of light that shone along the rising hills of the coastline. It was the reason for the coast’s name – those glimmering lights looked an awful lot like a male, tempting them to approach, to rest their weary bodies, and find some comfort.

It was always a temptation that led to fire and ruin.

Yetna looked away from the coast to Tulon. Her ... for lack of a better word ... comrade was looking drawn and tight lipped at that faint glimmer. “The deadlights shine near the entrance. We now need to get prepped for diving. We dive, then we follow the Imperial markers.” She sighed. “A lot of divers got themselves killed to plant them.”

“I thought that diving didn’t work – the Deadman’s Coast kills you even if you approach under the water,” Chinsara said.

“The Imperial Diving Corps went in again and again – probing. We had the women to spend.” Yetna shook her head. “Three whole ships, parked outside, trying to recreate the route that the Empress took. There’s no landmarks under the sea, naturally, everything shifts around, reefs grow and die, the silt is everywhere. It’s worse, with the tides. But we found the route she had taken, and we planted permanent diver markers. We follow them, we can get to the coast. Once you’re on the shore, you’re safe.”

Tulon nodded. “Get everyone ready.” She turned back to Gyre. “Gyre, are...” She frowned. “Gyre, are you asleep?” She stepped over to the alien man, to the ... Starship, Yetna supposed he was called. She grabbed his head, then shook it, viciously. His head flopped around and then his eyes opened and he frowned at her.

“No,” he said. “I’m not asleep. I’m just trying to retarget some very confused, very old grazer turrets before they vaporize our-” He winced as the water about fifty yards to the right of their ship exploded outwards, as if a whole barrel of gunpowder had been set off beneath the waves. The mist swept out along them, scalding hot even with the distance between them and the impact point and every woman on the deck ducked low, hissing. “ ... ship.”

“What the hell is a grazer?” Yetna hissed, sticking her head up and above the edge of the railing.

“There are three of them on the coastline that are still active,” Gyre said, his eyes closing. “Give me a second. Don’t dive until I say so.”

“You...” Tulon growled, then shook her head and stepped back, frustration clear on her features. She crossed her arms over her chest, stepped backwards, then thrust herself against the mast. She glared at Gyre, while Yetna and Chinsara both looked back to the coast. Chinsara put her hand over her eyes, as if to shade them from the blazing sun – despite the fact it was late at night and the only light was the moon overhead and the glimmering deadlights.

“So, what’s your story?” she asked Yetna.

“I’m a turncoat Imperial captain. You?” Yetna asked.

“Whore,” Chinsara said, her voice cheerful. “I ride that alien’s dick, and my Queen rewards me later with money, maybe even land, a title, a stake in some trade or another.” She shrugged. “Seemed like a worthwhile way to use my body.”

Yetna nodded, her eyes flicking along Chinsara’s form. Even in the evening light, her tropical colors made her a bright, eye catching sight on the ship. And she had a figure that rewarded her coloration. Yetna found herself licking her lips, slowly, her eyes settling on the thick tail that Chinsara sported. It had been ... quite a while since she’d been with a woman who had a tail. Chinsara giggled. “Eyes up, Captain. I never said I’d fuck you.”

Yetna huffed, looking up into Chinsara’s eyes. “I’ll have you know, men were falling out of the trees to be seduced by me,” she said. “Back in the Empire.”

“Did they have a way to say no?” Chinsara murmured.

Yetna flushed. “Well...” She looked out at the coast. “I never took any man that said no.”

Chinsara watched her silently for a bit.

“I believe you,” she said.

Gyre opened his eyes. “Okay,” he said. “I think I’ve convinced the grazers that we’re not enemies.”

“What is a grazer?” Tulon snapped, stepping forward to stand before Gyre again as he stood. He looked down his nose at her, then looked away. Yetna couldn’t tell for sure, but she thought ... he might have actually been ashamed of what he had done. But she wasn’t going to bet out it, considering he was an alien after all.

“A grazer is a ... damn it all, it’s a...” He groped for words. “It’s a weapon. A shortening of a set of words – a Gamma Ray Laser.”

“Okay, how does it work? How does it kill ships? And can we approach above the waves?” Tulon asked, her voice growing slightly less harsh as Gyre squirmed under her gaze.

“It works by ... taking light and then focusing it so that the light all moves in the same direction. You know how the sun warms you up? It’s like that, but magnified many thousands of times.” Gyre said. “There are many kinds of light – the kind we can see and invisible kinds, which are all zipping through the universe around us.” He waved his hand around. “Grazers use the most energetic – the most intense – form of light that we can tap into, focuses it into a beam, and fires that beam at targets. They cut, burn and explode all at the same time. That explosion you saw earlier? That was water boiling by the ton when a grazer flicker-fired at it for a second.”

Tulon regarded him. Yetna had no idea what was going on between her ears, and her face betrayed nothing, before she finally said: “And that’s what you can fire from your fingers?”

“Grazers and x-beams,” he said, holding up his hand. “X-beams use a different kind of light. Less energetic, so it takes less for me to fire them, and they can be fired for longer.” He wiggled his fingers.

“Are there any other weapons on the coast that you are aware of?” Tulon asked, her voice more serious, more focused. She was looking slightly less murderous, too. Yetna felt a tiny knot on the back of her neck starting to ease. If Tulon was less eager to stab their only alien, maybe they’d actually survive this mission.

“From what I can tell, that coast has what was once an orbital defense installation,” Gyre said, pointing at the mountains that rose in the distance. “Three grazers for close in point defense and a few kinetics. Those kinetics can’t shoot at us, they’re designed to only fire up into ... the sky.” He pointed upwards. “That’s what orbital defense is, see. It’s for defending from things that fall from the sky.”

“Like you?” Tulon shook her head, before he could respond, and barked some orders. “Chinsara, Yetna, Leylin, get the anchor up! Ulnd, unreef those sails. We’re going to land on the Deadman’s Coast.”

Chinsara groaned. “We just-”

“Oh quit your complaining,” Yetna said, then put her shoulder to the windless.

The prow of the boat crunched against the shore and Tulon leaped from the edge of the sandy beach of the Deadman’s Coast. The misty air felt deliciously cool against her skin, and her spear felt entirely inadequate in her hands. She lifted her head, instinctively, to where Xan would drift around her shoulders, glimmering and glinting ... and instead, saw nothing at all. Her heart clenched and she wanted to scream and cry all at once. She forced those feelings down as Yetna crunched down next to her, holding a captured Imperial musket in her hands. Chinsara stepped down and Gyre followed, leaving the other women on the ship.

“This coast should be safe,” Gyre said. “The grazers aren’t killing anything until I tell them to start-”

“The Imps come around, I want to have a ship here when we swing back around,” Tulon said, her voice flat. She turned to the ship. “If either of you see Imps coming, you are to cut and run. Leave markings on that tree, using the Queen’s Code.” She said, pointing up at the tree she wanted. Leylin nodded, her eyes glinting.

“Understood, captain.”

“Should I fly-” Gyre started.

“No,” Tulon snapped, the reaction immediate and entirely visceral. The reasoning only came later. “There’s three of us, you can’t carry us all. Besides, isn’t this place made to shoot down things that fly?” She smirked. “How do you know they won’t try and shoot you down for trying to fly around overhead.”

Gyre opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. He considered it, then shrugged. “The automation here is thousands of years out of date and has been running on recursive loops for a long time. It’s buggy as hell and deeply paranoid. That ... actually is a good point.”

Tulon inclined her head. She felt the angry knot in her breast throb – but it was slightly less intense than it had been before. That alone made her get even madder, but not entirely at Gyre. At herself, too. He had killed her husband, she had every right ... no, every duty to remain furious at him. She shook her head and then turned towards the rising treeline of the jungle that sprawled along the coast. Mist wound between the large trees – trees that had never been touched by loggers or prospectors ... save for the Imperials that might return at any moment.

“Come on,” she said, then started forward into the underbrush, her spear at the ready. The others followed, Chinsara holding her spear with some confidence. Yetna flanked her other side, looking increasingly nervous.

“You know, other than getting on the shore, I don’t know anything about the coast. The Empress and her minions don’t really ask naval officers to come ashore,” she whispered to Tulon, who snorted.

“We’ll be fine. We have a starship.”

Gyre chuckled, and Tulon almost felt her lips quirk up. They moved on into the woods, their eyes adjusting to the near darkness with their natural speed. Soon, they were navigating more by sound and impressions than by their very own eyes ... the darkness making the bright glows of fireflies that sometimes flitted between trees all the more obvious and enchanting. The fireflies were clearly not actually males up close, but rather some kind of insect that were significantly larger and less handsome. They bobbed and weaved through the trees, casting their pale illumination along the ground.

Tulon paused as they came to a clearing, where trees grew around an ancient, moss covered boulder. She set the butt of her spear against the ground, but Gyre put his hand on her shoulder, then stepped past her, holding up his other hand for silence. Yetna watched him – and Tulon noticed her tongue sliding along her lip. Tulon had to admit ... she had a hard time not admiring the sleek, muscular body of the starship as he prowled towards the boulder, his buttocks glinting faintly in the ghostly light of the fireflies. Her tongue slid along her own lips and she felt her own traitor cunt grow faintly heated between her thighs. She shook her head, then clenched her hand on her spear.

What is wrong with me? She thought. He killed my husband.

By accident, not on purpose, a tiny part of her mind whispered.

Gyre brushed his hand along the boulder, and rather than stone, gleaming metal flashed out at them. “This is a ruin,” he said, quietly, kneeling down as Chinsara hurried over, kneeling beside him. She pressed her curvy, tropical body against him and Tulon felt her heart skip a beat. Jealousy tinged at her and she shook her head.

Something’s wrong, she thought, while Chinsara crooned. “What kind of ruin, Gyre?” Her hand brushed along his shoulders. Yetna stepped forward as well, her spear leaned against a tree, half forgotten as she brushed her hands through her hair, then slid down to kneel next to him as well, her even curvier form pressing to his other side. She hooked an arm around his and murmured, her voice breathy and needy in a way that Tulon had never heard before.

“Yeah, tell us...”

Gyre blinked, looking between the two women. “Uh, it’s an old Concord bunker – the kind that would be hardened against nukes. But something’s wrong – the hatches are all open and the self repair systems are offline. Like someone shut them down before whatever happened here happened. Their automation is dead – it’s just a hunk of ... uh...” He trailed off, because Yetna’s hand, moving with the brazen eagerness of an Imperial Captain claiming what she wanted, had dipped down to squeeze his ass.

“A bunker, huh?” she murmured. “Something nice and hard.”

Something’s wrong, Tulon thought, her head growing increasingly hazy. Her nipples were achingly hard. She tried to think of Xan. Instead ... all she could think of was the massive cock that Gyre sported. Driving into her. Fucking her. Taking her. She panted softly then shivered as she felt something buzz against her cheek. One of the fireflies landed on her shoulder and fluttered its wings. Her nose flared and she whimpered, her hands going to her thin top. She ripped it open, carelessly, freeing her breasts, her nipples achingly hard.

“Fuck me!” she moaned, her voice desperate. Needy.

“No, fuck me first!” Chinsara whined, pressing against Gyre’s side. The ship, so surprised by this, almost fell over – meaning that he stumbled into Yetna’s waiting arms. Her hands immediately took hold of his hardening cock, stroking him with confident, eager strokes.

“I’m the oldest of them, I’m the one who knows how to please a man best,” she purred in his ear. “You can fuck my throat, you can fuck my ass. I’ve taken a cock in my ass before-”

Tulon hurried forward. She didn’t care anymore, about anything, but the wanting burning need between her thighs. Her nipples ached and her skin tingled as she knelt down, taking Gyre’s head in her hands and leaning forward. She kissed him. Hard. Her tongue thrust between his lips, into his mouth, as Chinsara leaned forward and took hold of his cock with her own desperate lips, her mouth opening wide as she took his cock deeper and deeper into her throat. The whole scene was lit now by the glittering fireflies, which fluttered their wings and buzzed about them.

Tulon drew her mouth back, a string of her eager salavia connecting her mouth to Gyre’s – but Gyre was gripping Chinsara’s head. The tropical bitch was going to get her throat fucked by Gyre before...

Tulon blinked, surprised.

Becuase rather than holding her head in place and slamming his cock deep in her throat – which is all we’re good for, to be his eager cocksleeves, she thought, dazedly – Gyre tugged, gently, at Chinsara’s head. She pulled off his cock, leaving him glistening. Yetna, seeing her chance, tried to crawl past him, but his other arm lifted, blocking her off as she pawed at his cock, mewling softly. Tulon leaned forward, but before she could even get close, Gyre lifted into the air, panting softly, his cock achingly hard, but ... for some reason, he was not pinning her down and just raping her silly. She wanted him to take her, to make her want him, to make her forget her husband even existed. She felt as if she was on fire.

“Fuck meee!” she gasped out, cupping her breasts, squeezing it together, as Gyre darted backwards. He pointed his finger below him, his brow furrowing, his eyes worried. Tulon looked up at him, panting, her mouth opened, as Yetna and Chinsara pressed against her. Yetna’s larger breasts ground against her, their nipples rubbing circles around one another, Yetna so desperate for release that she locked her thighs around Tulon’s and tried to grind her cunt against her. Chinsara whimpered and fingered herself, using one finger, two, three, four, thrusting them into her wanting cunt.

Tulon thought she heard Gyre whisper. “Okay ... double checking that.”

She reached up towards him.

Then she felt a warm flash – it was just enough to sting, but not enough to really hurt. She blinked – and then blinked again as the fireflies that drifted overhead dropped to the ground en mass, their bodies crisped and burnt, as if someone had swept them with a broom made of fire. Her hair felt dried out and her skin immediately began to ache, as if she needed a deep, deep dunk in some water. But more importantly, when she breathed in some air, her head began to clear, and the burning lust between her loins...

Didn’t abate.

But it did become less overpowering. She could think straight. She could remember Xan. She blinked up at Gyre, as he flew down, landing before them. “Are you all right? I set my infared coms to the lowest setting that causes organic damage – I ... the fireflies, they were emitting a pheromone that was triggering some kind of lust in ... you...” He trailed off as Chinsara yanked her robes shut, laughing shakily.

“Ah. That ... how did that happen?” She looked at Yetna, who was trying to salvage what was left of her top, forcing her breasts back into the top as she looked affronted.

“I was never told anything about this,” she said.

“Maybe the Empress had a really good time when she first visited,” Tulon snapped, standing up, her knees quivering. “I ... we should keep going-”

“Do you need a bit to, uh, get ... prepped?” Gyre asked, his cheeks darkening slightly.

Tulon was about to snap that no, of course she didn’t, when she felt the wind gust along her back and the tingling caress of that warm breeze was enough to get her to arch her back and almost mewl like a bitch in heat. She closed her eyes, bit her lip to repress the noise, then gasped out. “Yes, please.”

Gyre darted off, retreating beyond the edge of the clearing. The instant he was out of sight, Yetna pounced. The curvaceous woman mashed her breasts against her chest and her mouth found Tulon’s. Her tongue thrust in and her hands gripped Tulon’s rump and Tulon melted against her. She had not lain with a woman since she was married, but she knew the basics. Her hands tugged at Yetna’s top, pushing it down again, freeing her fullness, while Chinsara molded against Tulon’s back, kissing her neck, biting her gills gently, teasing them with her tongue. Tulon nearly came from that alone.