Battle of the Folium Nebula

"Brrble," Lambert said around a mouthful of her soft bosom.

"What?" Mezul lifted her chest off him, her stature making it so that she had to look down to meet his eyes.

"Breath," he repeated, Mezul mumbling an apology as she cupped his chin and delivered one of her signature kisses. He looked down at their mated hips when she pulled away, seeing her lips melting over his crotch. She was drawing circles with her hips, making sure he reached every part of her alien vent, each new angle sending his nervous system into overdrive.

"Here," he said, grabbing her by her love handles and motioning for her to rise. "I'll show you a human trick."

"Another one?" Mezul moaned. "I don't know if I can handle much more..."

"You'll like this," he said. As her hips lifted, her insides gripped his dick hard enough to hurt, like her body didn't want him escaping her. The friction of their vastly different flesh caused them both to groan, Mezul following his lead and lifting her cheeks into the air until only his head was left inside her.

She paused at that apex, the blue flaps of her avian hole dragging outward from her lips as he pulled his hips back. He held onto her cheeks, steadied himself, and stabbed up into her as she dropped at the same time.

All the soft parts of her body rippled with the impact, Mezul letting out a distinctly moan-like chirrup, her drunken eyes turned toward the ceiling. He bottomed out inside her, her insides like wet clay as they morphed to the shape of his cock. He was aware of every crinkle and fold as they raked along his length, his hands running through her silky coat and tracing the subtle curve of her spine.

"Was I right or what?" he said, nuzzling against the feathers on her chest and breathing in her scent.

"Your organ curves in a completely different direction to my... insides," Mezul muttered, trying to look serious even as she struggled through the bliss. "Isn't that uncomfortable for you?"

"Well, if you want to stop..." He pretended to lift her off, but Mezul leaned more of her weight down on him, the man chuckling as she pinned him by the wrists.

"You're staying right there until you fill me up," Mezul chided, shaking her hips, the movement silencing him. The Balokarid eased her waist up, quickly catching on to Lambert's idea, creating a slow, but heavy pace as she rose up and slammed back down on him, the human writhing beneath her as her insides relentlessly flexed against his sensitive skin. She forced him into her sweet spot again and again, the wet sounds of their coupling rising above the embarrassing grunts the two made over one another.

Balokarids must mate a little differently if this was such a novel experience for Mezul, his lover locked in a blissful trance as she rutted him into the bed, Lambert doing his most to rise up to meet her as they mated. Lambert's hands wandered over her body as he let her have her way with him, her softness impossible to resist.

He could feel his orgasm threatening to erupt, and Mezul seemed to sense it too, the alien's insides squeezing around him in a distinctly milking motion. She looked down at him with a sultry expression, holding him by the shoulder as she bounced on his cock harder and faster.

"Fill me, Lambert," she sighed, alternating between rocking her hips and slamming up and down on him. "I'm so close, just a little more..."

Her pelvic muscles sealed over his dick, her fine control over her core making it difficult to deny her request. She bounced on him with all of her strength and weight, Lambert's body unsure whether to long for air or release. He did his best to meet her thrusts with his own, the two mating like beasts as their composures left them and they let their instincts guide them towards their crescendos. Her beak met his lips as she stared into his eyes, her breath mixing with his as their lovemaking reached a fever pitch.

"More," Mezul whispered. "Just a little m..." She went silent as she brought her hips to his one final time, forcing Lambert as deep as he could go as her tunnel narrowed, the first wave of her orgasm rocking her.

Her alien vent contracted in waves, Mezul running her beak over Lambert's face as her loins gripped his dick with the strength of a vice. His entire lower half vanished as she drew him as deep as he would go, her milking contractions sending Lambert over the edge, his spine curling as his own orgasm erupted with all the violence of a volcano.

A blissful release that bordered on pain took control of his faculties, pumping his first load into her as he took handfuls of her feathers into his grip, his euphoria chased by a satisfying ache as he splashed her walls with his emission.

Mezul's eyes rolled into the back of her head as her flexing passage milked him of another load, her neck falling so far back that her forehead touched the space between her shoulders. Her heavenly walls massaged even more of his ejaculate, it just wouldn't stop, not that Lambert wanted it to, a sweet euphoria chasing his climax as his hips connected up into hers, his fluids joining hers to leak down her thighs as he filled her to capacity.

Their joined pleasure slowly wound down, every subtle twitch from one felt by the other as they rode it out until the gentle warmth of afterglow took them, Mezul sighing as one last flex of his manhood sent a wave of pleasure coursing through her.

She collapsed on him, Lambert voicing a pained gasp as she dropped her weight, the alien smiling at him as she nuzzled his cheek and neck, her hot breath washing over him in bursts as she collected herself.

The light from outside the bedroom caught on her azure feathers and his sweat as she rolled onto her side, making her appear to sparkle, Lambert wincing as his member slid gently out of her, the combination of their juices spilling out between her lips to further dirty the mattress.

"I can feel it warming up my insides," Mezul sighed, touching her stomach which was a little more swollen than before. "You filled me up so much, I wasn't expecting that."

"It's... been a while since I've been with someone," he confessed, turning onto his side, Mezul giggling like a girl as he wrapped his arms around her.

"That means I'll have you all to myself," she purred, running her claws over his scalp, Lambert shivering in her arms. Who knew his head was so sensitive? A snap rippled through the sheets as one of the bedsprings gave way, the pair noticeably sagging as they looked at each other in worry.

"I think we need a new bed already," Lambert laughed. He could only imagine the damage done by going with a Balokarid more than once, and he wasn't just talking about the mattress...

"There's always the other bedroom," Mezul suggested, lifting him up and depositing him on her stomach as she wrapped her arms around him, sighing into his hair.

"You want to break that one too?" he asked, the alien smiling mischievously at him.

"Ten minutes rest, you said?" She laughed as his cheeks reddened, Lambert hiding them as he buried his face in her bust, her wonderful scent filling his nose. Only days ago she'd been this mysterious, alien being with no real grasp on his language, he wouldn't even dream of being this close to her, but they'd gone through thick and thin that this all just felt right.

"Maybe fifteen," he muttered into her coat. He breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled him close, her sheathes unfurling until her feathers surrounded him on all sides, blanketing him in a surprisingly comfortable wing-hug.

Epilogue

"Afternoon, Senator," Captain Anders said, waving for his guards to wait outside as the door closed behind him. Astera's office hadn't changed all that much since his last visit, her desk sat between two shelving units full of paperbacks of all shapes and colours, a rare commodity, since shipping paper to the Hub wasn't a cheap endeavour. On the back wall was a window looking out over the torus, the blinds open to let the sunlight spill in, the rays reflecting off the miniature model of the station sitting on the Senator's desk.

She was leaning against the window sill, a clipboard in her hand as she furrowed her brow at the words written on it. He didn't need to ask whose report it was, he could make out his own signature near the bottom.

"Captain," the Senator replied. "while I appreciate the sudden influx of intergalactic reinforcements, I'm going to have to ask you that if you ever encounter another alien species again, call me in advance, message interceptions be damned. I'm going to be up to my balls in logistics until my grandson turns ten."

"You're telling me," he muttered, having himself just come from planning out an integration process for the Balokarid fleet. The call to Astera's office was a break he desperately needed, even if he expected a good chewing out.

"Their Kith wants to send word back to Balokar with information on how to differentiate a Hub ship from a Confederate one, did you know that?" Astera asked. "I expect we'll be deploying to their territory given time, they'll want help fighting the UEC off."

"How many planets do they have?"

"Dur'shala's their only world outside of their homeplanet," Astera said. "They're a few hundred years behind us in terms of technology, but they'll provide a suitable buffer against the UEC until we can establish a stronger foothold, secure our own fucking nebula for one thing and keep our trade routes open. But enough about logistics, I wanted your report. Off the record."

She dropped the clipboard unceremoniously onto her desk, the Captain raising a brow at her. "You achieved a rather difficult goal of destroying a Confederate fleet and capturing their survivors, but that wasn't your original mission."

"The one covered in black ink?" he asked. "Missing transport ship, last known location somewhere in the nebula?"

"Did you make any progress on locating them?"

"I... sent you my report," he explained, his brow raised. "You were reading it a minute ago."

"I've had enough of paperwork for one afternoon," Astera said, flopping not so gracefully down on her chair, its suspension sagging. "And you know as well as I that transcripts don't remain classified forever, and this is a highly sensitive report, so indulge me, Captain."

"Well," he began. "It took a few weeks of searching before we found something, one of our scout ships detected a trail of refined chemicals that are analogous with a ruptured fuel tank, which could indicate our missing ship experienced damages of some sort.

"The scout followed the trail, but they left it to go after a Balokarid ship nearby, your Commander Hall was the one who made the call. He did drop a waypoint there for future reference, and I dispatched another team to follow up on the lead while we tried to make translators for the aliens."

"And?" Astera asked, leaning over her desk. "What did the team find?"

"Readings got a little hazy," he said. "But visual and thermal readings confirmed that the trail ends a couple sectors off from where Commander Hall left it. No wreckage in sight, it just stops."

"So the mission failed?" Astera asked. She didn't sound displeased, like she suspected this outcome, which was true considering he'd written it down for her. "You could not locate the ship?"

"We sustained too much damage during the fight," Anders replied. "We could not continue the search, not that we would have found much else, the fuel trail was only our lead, and it was a dead end."

"What do you suspect happened to them?" Astera asked, picking up a bottle and taking a sip. The bottle was metal, so he couldn't see the contents.

"My analytical team believes the ship's crew successfully repaired their damaged tank, and went on their way."

"I didn't ask what your fucking analytical team thinks happened, I'm asking you, Captain."

He was used to her terse language, so he wasn't so taken aback by her reply. "Personally? I think they were either captured or destroyed," he said. "but a ship's transponder would send out an alert when their reactor goes critical, it's standard protocol to warn nearby ships of incoming debris. The interference could have blocked us from receiving one, but there was no wreckage of any kind, and a simple leak in the fuel tank couldn't result in a meltdown, not unless they were shot at."

"Do you suspect the UEC were involved?"

"They've got the motive, but none of the Fed's we've picked up confessed to seeing any ships out there, and the blackbox we recovered from their destroyer supports their claims." He shook his head. "They only sent one battlegroup to hunt down the Balokarid carriers. They're a ruthless bunch, but we would have found evidence of a fight if there was one. Extreme heat emissions from the resulting explosion, for one thing, there's nowhere else for heat to go out in space."

"What about the Balokarids?" Astera asked. "Do you think they could be involved? Perhaps they commandeered it?"

"It seems a pretty bad way of starting our alliance," Anders replied. "And the Kith claims none of her people have flown a single wing into this whole nebula before, and by the way her navigation charts look, I believe her."

"So if the Balokarids didn't do it, and the UEC didn't either, who is responsible?"

"You always get up everyone else for asking dim-witted questions, how come you're different?"

"My frustration is getting the better of me," she muttered. "I must admit you're not giving me many answers, Captain," she added, peering at him over her bottle as she took another sip. "There's no evidence to suggest destruction, and the only culprits to explain a potential capture you have ruled out. A ship cannot just disappear without a trace."

"But this one did," he said with a shrug. "And speaking of answers, perhaps you would care to enlighten me about this transport a little more? It's cargo, destination? It might give me more to go on."

The Senator sighed, making to pick up her clipboard again, then reconsidering. "I suppose there's too much secrecy already, isn't there? Very well. The ship is... was... not a transport vessel but a fuel liner, carrying twenty thousand litres of spare unrefined fuel, its destination beyond the borders of the UEC."

"Unrefined? Why were they taking that beyond colonised space?"

"I'll get to that if you stop interrupting me," Astera snapped. "I assigned some of my most trusted compatriots to crew that ship, people I've known a long time who wouldn't ask questions and keep their mouths shut."

Astera cleared her throat, her chair creaking as she adjusted herself.

"I sent them out to sway the Suvelians into a trade agreement, the fuel was to be a gesture of goodwill, since they'd been planning a long voyage or something, I didn't pry for details." She noted his expression. "Yes, the aliens who ignored our species for the last few hundred years contacted me out of the blue, I was on my laptop one morning and they popped up on my screen like some fucking intergalactic house call, said they heard of our 'interracial infighting'." Astera added in her own air quotes. "-And wanted to work with us, since we were not Confederately aligned. I agreed to a meeting at some unremarkable sector a few systems out from the UEC border, a few months travel beyond the nebula."

Anders had many questions, but the first he asked was: "How did they communicate with you?"

"They tapped into my fucking microphone and webcam, speaking perfect English! Fuck knows how they managed that, they didn't even give me the courtesy to get properly dressed, I've never discussed policies in my nightgown before. You realise as well as I that it was an opportunity I could not give up, and to ensure success I kept the list of people who knew about this meeting to a minimum. What a lot of good that did," she muttered. "if you suspect another party is at fault for our missing ship, Captain, there's your answer. But as you said, it would be some way of starting a fledgling alliance by taking out one of our ships."

"Have the Suves contacted you since that last call?"

"No, they've gone quiet." She waved a hand. "I've had my computer looked at, but however they managed to contact me, they didn't leave a trail my techs could find."

"You've given me more questions than answers, Senator," he chuckled bitterly. "The Suves might know more, but without any way of contacting them..." He shrugged.

"So, in summary," Astera said, lifting up her fingers to count. "our ship vanishes without a trace. There's no evidence to suggest destruction, or capture, and the aliens are probably not responsible, and neither are the Confederates." Astera sighed. "I've given textbook speeches more satisfying than that. This won't look good to the public, nor to my rivals."

"And being the old face leading the revolution against the UEC does? What else do your rivals need to hate you?" he asked, Astera fixing him with a cold look.

"You wouldn't have happened to add in the word old for a reason, turncoat?" she asked dryly.

"You must have misheard."

"I'm going to need more vodka than what's in this to believe that." Astera held up her bottle, Anders grinning as he finally detected the whiff of alcohol. "I'll pour you one for such a bold jab, you'll need it for when we sort out the alien residential rites. Which is now. Take a seat, we've a lot of work to do."

-THE END-