A Soldier For All Seasons Ch. 15

Nate shook her hand. "You look like you can hold yourself in a fight, which is all that matters to me." He said truthfully.

"Good." She bared her teeth. "I can."

"Not today you didn't." Graziano muttered, but it was said so quietly that Nate guessed Lita wasn't someone to fuck with.

"So this is the team, huh?" Nate looked around at all the faces.

Hakeem -- short as hell but still down to fight and fuck.

Lita -- the boxer bitch with the always broken nose.

Graziano -- the mafia money asshole who'd led the team into a bottom place team.

Bastian -- the friendly guy with a beastly figure.

Lunar -- the warrior Mediator with secrets to hide.

An odd bunch.

Not quite your old squad. Isabelle compared.

No, not even close, Nate thought. But as they all fell into an argument, laughs and threats, thrown pillows and wrestling fights, Nate could see the beginning of a real good team.

###

"Better food than the Fed gives you." Nate commented as he wolfed down some stew. He knew better than to ask what type of meat it was but it was warm and well-spiced, which was all he cared about.

"And lots of it." A meaty hand slapped down his shoulder, almost planting him into the table. Nate looked on to see a enormous bald tawny-skinned man laughing heartily as he greeted everyone, skin covered with tribal tattoos in both black and white ink.

"Who the fuck was that?" Nate murmured to Bastian.

Bastian snorted. "Instructor Carmichael -- he's the good cop to Rivero's evil bitch cop."

Lita chortled.

"Don't worry." Hakeem told him. "Carmichael's the nice instructor -- if he likes you, all the better."

The food hall was large and noisy, with most teams sticking to their own tables. The Serpents were the loudest, crowing at their victory, which had caused more than a little anger from the somber Plasmas.

Nate thought they were distasteful but he was also more interested in his meal. He wasn't sure when he'd get the next one.

"Don't like the meal, Lunar?" Lita asked, still chewing hers.

Lunar stared at the Serpents, gripping the table, her plate untouched. "They have no understanding of the honor in battle. It sickens me. Does it not sicken you too, Nathan Clancy?"

He met her eyes, mid-bite. "Yesh." He said around his food.

She grimaced.

"A toast!" One of the Serpents stood up on his table, grin wide, hair wild. Sex hair, Nate thought, grimacing at the thought that he wouldn't be able to hold Ana tonight. He'd come to rely on it and her lovely warmth.

"That's Xavier." Bastian muttered. "Major asshole, we grew up in the same city. Leader of the Serpents."

"To my team, the fastest guns, the sharpest knifes, I thank you." He swayed a little as he held up his drink. "I'm not the easiest leader, or so I hear--"

His table tittered with appreciative laughter.

"But! I am a born and true, no bones about it, fuck you if you say otherwise, fucking winner. And it has been my great honor to make you into winners too. Our future is strong."

They cheered and Nate turned back to his meal.

"And to our opponents from today!" Xavier wasn't done. "My condolences." He smirked and the atmosphere turned anticipatory. "For your loss and your weakness."

Nate kept his head down as a fight erupted, fists and food flying.

"Major asshole is right." He shouted to Bastian to make himself heard over the loud din.

Bastian grabbed his wrist as he made to shovel another spoonful in. "Best to keep your stomach light, friend. They sometimes have a little hazing ritual when new people arrive."

"Fuck, are you serious?" Nate wiped his mouth clean. "What sort of ritual?" He asked as they watched the fight get broken up by the instructors. Rivero, he noticed with mild amusement, was not holding back her punches.

"Well, for me it was a--"

"Everybody, shut the fuck up and sit down or you'll be doing laps until the sun comes up." Rivero yelled. She held up one of the unconscious trainees and tossed his body at a nearby medic in mild disgust.

The fighters slowly trickled back to their tables. Xavier, Nate noticed, was grinning, lip split.

"Now, I don't give a fuck about a little fight during dinner." Rivero flexed her fists, examining her cut knuckles. "A bit of entertainment for me and the rest of the sorry fucks who have to train you is always worth it. Tatiana, your form is still awful. Jay-jay, if you're that short, then maybe kickboxing isn't the style you should be using -- you cannot be this stupid and have got this far."

Nate stared with wide eyes. This was...unconventional instruction. Was Xavier really going to get away with zero punishment?

"Now, Xavier, what I remember saying earlier was that victory gives you the right to drink a little and be merry, I didn't say it give you the right to be a smug little dick."

"Sorry, ma'am." He said, clearly unrepentant.

"I'm sure you are, you little shit. Just for that, your team is running the marsh tomorrow, so enjoy smelling like shit for the whole day."

Their heads dropped. Nate didn't know what the marsh was but he didn't want to find out.

"Xavier, since everyone in this hall wants to punch you, we'll have to give some lucky bastard the opportunity. How about you give our welcoming ritual to our new guy?" Rivero's eyes landed on Nate.

Xavier's eyes followed hers and he grinned widely. "With pleasure, ma'am."

"Spar formation!" Rivero yelled. All the trainees jumped to their feet and started shoving the tables to the side of the hall, leaving an empty space in the center, a boxing arena where the ropes were other trainees.

"How fucked am I?" Nate muttered to his team.

Bastian weighed his words carefully. "Xavier's a top five sparrer. It's not technically an official spar, but well...the team gets points on victories, even in individual spars and we could do with some points right now. Maybe just try not to lose too hard."

"Good luck, man." Hakeem fist-bumped him. "His right hook's nasty, heads up. Also be careful of his left hook."

"Really, man?" Lita said.

"I'm just saying."

"Don't worry." Lita told him. "He's fast so just keep your guard up, use his strength and momentum against him."

"Maybe we can get a really good replacement if Xavier kills you." Graziano told him, looking quite serious.

"Do not disgrace your honor." Lunar nodded to herself. "Battle is only battle against opponents of equal or greater strength, so fear not."

"Thanks guys." Nate said, not sure what he was thanking them for.

"Alright, listen up." Rivero clapped her hands together, bouncing from heel to heel. "No rules except no biting. When I say stop, you stop." She glanced at Xavier at that, who gave his best innocent face. "Ready, both?"

"Ready." Nate nodded.

"Let's go." Xavier swung his arms loosely.

"Go!"

Xavier led with a punch that Nate barely saw, hard into his chin.

"Fuck." Nate mumbled, stumbling back, but Xavier didn't give him any respite. He came forward fast, throwing swings and jabs.

Nate blocked and backstepped but soon he was in the arms of a booing crowd who shoved him straight back at Xavier. He was faster, stronger. Even when Nate blocked his right hook, it still hurt, arms and fists aching.

Xavier changed tactics, low kicks to his shin, again and again, forcing him to slow down as his leg started dying, the burn turning to a complete lack of feeling. As he slowed, he got sloppy, taking a hook to the jaw that felled him completely.

Nate looked up with wide blurry eyes and rolled just before Xavier stopped him out.

Focus, Nate. Stop panicking. Isabelle told him, but she wasn't the one getting their ass kicked.

Technically, I am. She said.

Nate tried to do as Isabelle said. He caught Xavier's next jab, pulling him forward, trying to grab the man in a neck-choke. But Xavier stomped his shin, kneed his crotch and he was gone.

Nate tried it again. Too slow. The hook caught his nose -- the crowd groaned at the crunch of his nose breaking.

Blood dripping. On his hands, on the floor. This was embarrassing.

Humiliating.

Rage-inducing.

Nate roared and charged forward, taking another punch to the fist but crashing into Xavier, sending him down. He threw a jab that connected with the young man before he was gone, up and away and spinning in a roundhouse kick that damn near took Nate's head off.

"Too slow, old man." Xavier bounced back and forth, feet dancing.

"Why does everyone keep saying that I'm old?" Nate grumbled, taking the opportunity to stumble to his feet.

Punch fight wouldn't work and Xavier was too fast for a submission.

Nate let himself get backed up against the crowd and then rushed him, getting hit in the face for his troubles but managing to get close enough to get a hold of the man's shirt. He pulled him forward and smashed his head, butting him hard.

The crowd let out an simultaneous ooh.

Nate staggered away, spitting out blood. His head hurt. Where the fuck was he?

Hit him, Nate. Hit Xavier! Isabelle told him.

"Right." Nate mumbled. Xavier was stumbling to his feet. Nate went for a jab only to find his arm caught, locked. He was fucked. Xavier hit him in the side, a rib cracking, holding his arm as he moved forward to crack him in the jaw.

He was down on the ground, woozy, done. The back of his head hurt. Everything hurt. He couldn't even hold his arms up as Xavier moved in to hit him once, twice.

"Enough!" He heard Rivero yell.

"No!" Nate heard his own voice mumble. He hated losing. He swept his legs around Xavier's, pulling him down, spinning over him. Left hook, right hook.

Revenge, glorious revenge, sinking punches in the man's stupid face. Until his punch was caught and Xavier took a page out of his playbook, pulling him down and head-butting him.

Faint sounds, swimming colors, woozy pain, red.

Rivero was there shouting something but so was Xavier.

Xavier. The asshole.

Nate lurched to his feet. He tried to charge him but he was too unstable and ended up tripping, just hugging his leg. The man didn't even topple, but Nate was thinking quickly. He couldn't stand but he could rocket punches into the man's crotch.

Cockpunch, and Xavier let out a feminine squeal. Nate tasted blood on his lips.

Nate tunneled in. Xavier was shocked and that was all he could see. He tried to slap him away but Nate caught his wrist, bent it, unable to get to his feet but on his knees. Xavier's other hand came down to end it but he caught that one too. He heard laughter and realizing it was coming from him.

He cocked his head back and smashed it forward into Xavier's crotch, the only available avenue to cause damage.

He heard the man squeak. Nate peered up in victory but saw only a knee heaving toward his face.

###

The light woke him, streaming through a window, and even before he opened his eyes, he knew where he was. Medbay, the unmistakable scent of bleach sterilizing everything. He wanted to keep his eyes closed, his ribs were burning, his lip was puffy and his nose complained with every breath. But the light was streaming through, making the black void an unwelcome red.

"Guh." He said eloquently.

"Oh, you're up."

He was naked, chest bandaged. Something wet was attached to his jaw, whirring away mechanically. He tried to turn his head to see the voice, but even that hurt.

"I'm Doctor Babich." The man had a kind face but a hard jaw. "You were banged up pretty bad. How are you feeling?"

"Bad." Nate mumbled.

That made the Doctor laugh, though Nate couldn't imagine why.

"Well, you're healing okay. Your ribs should be in okay shape tomorrow, once our little micro-bots patch them up. We had to do some surgery so you've got a little incision in your stomach, nothing that won't go away. We're going to put you back in the Magnetic Resonance and Muscle Tear Restoration Tunnel until tonight and maybe overnight too." He grinned. "We call her Mirty."

Nate looked back at him flatly.

"Did I win?"

"Not even close." Rivero swept into the room, fast and incisive and perfectly put together. Nate barely held back a groan at the sight of her. "You broke his nose."

"Haha," Nate gurgled out and then stopped when it hurt.

"But he broke your..." She turned to look at the monitor's display. It showed a skeleton glowing with red spots. "...pretty much everything." She finished dispassionately. "You don't know when to stay down, do you Clancy?"

He shrugged, testing the blood flow to his fingers as he clenched his fist. He wished he could sit up, pull his bedsheet onto himself more. Rivero was intense and a little insane but she was also really hot and he missed Ana and before he was getting off several times a day and now he wasn't getting off and...

"Clancy?"

Nate coughed. "Only thing I really know is how to get back up again." He admitted.

She hummed at that, looking a tablet she was holding. "Well, that explains most of your battle record. Lot of dumb shit here, not sure how much of it's bravery or stupidity."

"Mostly stupidity." Nate reflected, hissing as he eased himself up. The bed adjusted to him automatically, folding a little to support his weight.

"I can believe that." She muttered. "You're not the usual candidate here, Clancy. We usually pick them up young, the best candidates we've been training since they were young teens, or maybe ones that have applied themselves in special ways in their first year or two out of boot. We want to get them before they're filled with Federation nonsense and bad habits."

Nate stayed silent. She was wearing a white tank and camo pants, but there was a little hint of cleavage. She was sweating, probably coming from beating someone down, and her pair was glistening.

"Most of the kids are dumb, thinking with their dick more than their heads."

"Idiots." Nate agreed dumbly.

What is wrong with you? Isabelle asked him.

I wish I knew.

"Battle of Lagashay." Nate flinched at her words but she didn't press him. "I had a sister in that battle. I asked her about you since it came up in your records. She said you damn near won that thing by yourself."

Nate didn't like to think about it. "Lost a lot of good people. Didn't feel like a win." He coughed out.

"Never does." She sighed, coming closer, clapping her tablet down at his side as she looked down at him. She smelled like a roaring fire and sulphur and gunpowder and the strange smell of a plasma after-burn. Nate felt his cock stirring, wishing and willing it would stay down.

"Your record is good, Clancy. But here, I'm boss. Understand? When I tell you to stop fighting, you stop fighting. If you challenge my authority again, I'll break your knee in a way that makes it impossible to heal."

Nate's eyes went wide. "Yes, Ma'am."

"And," She leaned over him with what he imagined were wide, angry eyes behind her bandaged face, reaching under the sheet and grabbed his balls, squeezing them. "I sure as hell don't appreciate you getting off to me."

Nate squeaked as he squirmed at her firm grasp. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, it's a physiological reaction I can't control, not one of disrespect, a medical issue even," He gasped. "And not because I find you attractive, not that you're not attractive, but--"

"Doctor!" She barked. "Is there any medical history concerning Captain Clancy's physiological reactions?"

"Uh, no Ma'am, although we have noted that he has a unusually large penis, but if anything that should make it more difficult to become erect, given the increased blood flow necessary--"

"Thank you, Doctor." Rivero leaned down to his face. "If it happens again, I will strap that fucking thing to your thigh, trainee."

"Yes, Ma'am." Nate sighed in relief as she let go, turned on her heel and stalked out of the medbay.

As he slammed his head back against the pillow, the Doctor approached. "Well, sonny, you really are one to make life difficult for yourself, aren't you?"

"Doc," Nate groaned as his balls complained. Why was he still horny? "You have no idea."

###

Is this a good idea, Nate?

"I can't think right now, I need a clear head. I'm going insane. Seriously, I know you've already looked into it, but can you double-check some biological responses between my cum and the interaction with Ana, or fuck, I don't know. Something had changed within me when I picked you up?"

Are you--

"No, I'm not saying you did this. I'm just, fuck, please, Isabelle, I'm going nuts here."

Okay. Do you want me to bring up any stimulation?

"No." Nate breathed out, letting his hand wrap around his shaft as he closed his eyes. For some reason, he didn't need to see anything. He could imagine it all, like his mind was just waiting for him to see.

Ana, on her knees, hands on his thighs, looking up at him with those loving teasing eyes, slow licks up his shaft as she nuzzled his cock. She giggled as her nose rubbed against the throbbing vein of his cock and then she descended hungrily to envelop one of his balls into her mouth. She slurped and sucked and bathed it with her tongue. Her face was glowing with happiness, glistening the precum he'd anointed her with.

He held her hair firmly, pulling her into him. "My queen." He murmured.

"Yes..." She trembled.

Nate blinked and looked out beyond her, realizing where he was sitting. On his throne, staring out at his thousands of thralls. Naked slaves, kneeling and worshipful, lined up in neat rows, humans and Lunari and Mediators. Beauties, all.

He blinked again.

His throne changed, shifted, and he realized he was sitting on his slaves. He ran his hand down an armrest and discerned it was someone's soft, warm thigh. He laid his head back and settled his head between a silky bosom. Ana bobbed her head obediently, ardently, but now there were more tongues, so many tongues. On his balls, on his feet, hands touching him everywhere.

He tilted his head back, groaned at the sensations, and came.

"My thralls." He said, only his voice was deeper, rumbling...not his own. "Give me your power."

Nate snapped his eyes open. A cold bathroom, sterile and lit by the fluorescent flashing white light, casting shadows in the corners. His cum swirled away down the drain.

Nate, you okay? Lost you for a second there.

He didn't reply, feeling lost, like he hadn't since he was a little boy. Lost and afraid.

He shivered, naked.

"I don't--I don't know." He answered. He stood there for a minute, feeling quite alone, before heading back to his bed in the Mirty healing tunnel.

###

Nate, wake up! WAKE UP!

"Huh?" He muttered groggily.

Hostiles entering medbay. Alarm sounded and was silenced. No identities in database except one -- a medic who has worked for the Judges for thirty years.

A hand covered his mouth.

"Mmmph!" Nate said into the sweating flesh.

"No yelling, naughty boy." A voice teased him. "You've been very bad, haven't you? Telling tall tales about Jarek. He's most unhappy with you."

Nate's eyes strained against the darkness, trying to make people out of the silhouettes.

Three of them.

Doable, if it wasn't for the fact they already held him down on his bed, his ribs were still healing and he hadn't eaten anything except liquefied mush.

But these weren't Judges. Jarek's friends in the Judge program, not Judges. But if one was a medic, then maybe the other two weren't all that, either?

A scalpel ran along his neck, cutting a thin line of blood that dripped down.

"Come on, do him already!" One of the men said nervously, wiping his forehead. He was a Lunari, ears sticking straight up.

"Patience, brother. We've cut the door alarms. Nobody is coming, not this time of night."

Nate's eyes flashed to the siren above the door, willing it to turn red, for the speakers to blare. Nothing.