The Rask Rebellion

"You figured out how to use the ration heaters?" Ben asked, attempting to shake some of the sand out of the creases in his pressure suit.

"Sure, I watched you cook last time."

"My people are also social eaters," Lozka replied, shrugging off her camouflaged cloak. It had done a decent job of shielding her from the worst of the storm, but damp fur and sand didn't go well together, and some of it was sticking to her coat. It seemed to irritate her, the alien growling as she tried to brush it off. "It would be nice to share a meal," she added, planting herself on the mattress beside her Valbaran counterpart. They were so comically mismatched, the Araxie was near twice the Valbaran's height.

Mizi beamed as she handed her a steaming packet of food, Lozka lifting it to her nose, filling her lungs with its scent. She fished inside and speared a cube of nondescript meat on her claw, bringing it to her mouth. The little alien passed another cardboard sleeve to Ben as he sat across from them, crossing his legs. It was beef ravioli, not bad.

"As I was telling Lozka," he began, picking up a plastic fork as he started to dig in. "We can't see anything in the storm, and I've set up a perimeter using the motion sensors, so we'll get an alert if anyone comes within a hundred meters of us. There's no need for anyone to be on watch, so we can all get six or seven hours of sleep tonight. Eat up, then get some rest, these opportunities are usually few and far between in a warzone."

Mizi had been heating up some water as well, carefully pouring the boiling liquid into a pair of cups. One was more cranberry juice, while the other was hot cocoa, Ben reaching out to take the latter from one of her flexible tendrils.

"I miss eating with my flock like this," she said, wriggling deeper into her sleeping back as she blew on her hot juice. "There was a round dining table in the living area of our house back in Pilbara, my home city, and all six of us would crowd around it whenever we ate. It would be strewn with all kinds of dishes. Bowls full of vegetables and fish raised in the hydroponic farms, grains, flame-roasted meats if it was the right season. We'd pass the food and seasonings around without needing to be asked. We all knew what the others liked, you see, what their favorites were. A flock is like a family, but closer, more intimate. We know each other as well as we know ourselves."

"Like best friends?" Ben asked, popping a piece of ravioli into his mouth.

"More than that," she replied, her eyes seeming to lose their focus as she looked through him. "Imagine finding a group of people who are so like you that you finish each other's sentences, you know what they're thinking and feeling without ever needing to ask. It's a kind of...platonic love, but not entirely. You always have unconditional support, you're never alone. It's a friend, a colleague, a family, all rolled into one. I never saw these concepts as separate until I started to interact with humans."

"Sounds nice," he said, taking a sip of his hot cocoa. "But don't you ever need a break? Don't you want to be alone sometimes?"

"No," she chuckled.

"You must miss them terribly," Lozka said, Mizi sparing her a glance. Her feathers flashed purple, betraying her feelings before she had even opened her scaly lips.

"Indeed I do. Separation has been...painful, but we knew what we were getting ourselves into when we signed up." She took a long draw from her cup, savoring the taste before continuing. "It's not unheard of for a Val'ba'ra'nay to be separated from their flock. The leaders of my people, the Ensi, are often required to work alone. They have a great many responsibilities that take them all over the city, and solitude is a burden that they sometimes must bear. I just have to keep telling myself that we'll be reunited soon." She smiled again, glancing between the two of them, a thought seeming to cheer her up. "You two make me feel better. We work well together, right?"

"We've fucked up a lot of Rask," Ben chuckled. "I'd say we make a pretty good team."

"I too have been separated from my pack," Lozka said. "Our social bonds are not as strong as yours, Mizi'pal'otl, and I do not suffer in their absence as you do. But still, this situation is...unusual for my people."

"Then, we should keep one another company," Mizi chirped.

They ate their fill, the meal warming them, helping to stave off the pervasive cold. There had been few opportunities to relax so far, it was nice to just sit around and do...nothing. Lozka fished inside one of the many leather pouches that were strapped to her belt, pulling out a fine-toothed comb that had been fashioned from some kind of fibrous wood. She began to run it through her fur, combing away the sand that was still clinging to her damp coat. Mizi cocked her head, watching curiously for a minute or two, then she extended a tiny hand.

Lozka peered down at her, raising an eyebrow silently, then passed her the comb. The little alien reached up to pull down the nearby bench, clutching her sleeping bag tightly as she hopped up onto it, putting herself behind the Araxie at about shoulder level. She reached out to groom her companion, running the fine teeth through her silky fur, cleaning away the sand where Lozka couldn't reach.

"Why is it wet?" she asked, Ben snorting into his cup of cocoa. He'd been wondering that for days, and Mizi had simply come out and asked it. They both spared him a curious glance, then returned to their conversation.

"It is sweat," Lozka explained. "My people perspire continuously, as having wet fur helps keep us cool in the hot, humid environment of our territory."

"Is it making you cold right now?" Mizi continued.

"Somewhat," she replied.

Ben leaned back against the hull as he watched them interact for a while, nursing his drink. They made such a mismatched pair, yet their ways of life were so oddly compatible, they seemed so relaxed around each other. He realized that he was sitting apart from them, as far away as he could conceivably get in the cramped troop bay. Maybe he should loosen up a little. Sleeping with Mizi hadn't been so bad, had it?

"The Araxie have different customs when it comes to feasts," Lozka said, seeming to enjoy the sensation of Mizi's gentle combing. "In his wisdom, Patriarch Bozka commissioned the construction of a communal dining hall, fashioned from the trunk of a felled tree. Our artisans carved it in a single piece, tables, chairs, and all. There is food being prepared there at all times of the night, the fire pits are always burning, and anyone in the village is welcome to eat their fill."

"What about you, Commander?" Mizi asked.

"Uh...well, you've seen the mess hall on the Okinawa. That's about as close to social eating as I get. Actually, back in the day, me and my family used to get together for Thanksgiving. This was back before I joined the UNN."

"Thanks giving?" Mizi asked.

"It's a holiday," he explained, "kind of a traditional celebration back where I come from. My parents had this big old dining table made from oak, lord knows where they got something like that, it was probably passed down from my grandparents." He paused to take another draw from his cup, staring at the ceiling as he reminisced. "Anyway, my mom would cook up a whole turkey for the occasion, a kind of Earth bird, along with all the trimmings. Stuffing, gravy, roast potatoes. It was pretty much the only time of year besides Christmas that I'd see any of my relatives. We'd catch up on who'd been married or divorced in the last year, who'd had kids, things like that. Everyone would crowd around the table and demolish the meal in a couple of hours."

"And now?" Lozka asked, Ben setting down his empty cup.

"That was a long time ago," he replied, "I don't get back home much these days. I guess the Navy has become my surrogate family, in a way."

"Perhaps humans are not as solitary as we have been led to believe," Lozka mused, Mizi giggling as she began to run the comb through her hair. She paused every so often to tap it with one of her dull claws, shaking the sand from its teeth.

Ben caught himself yawning, pausing to check the time on his wrist display.

"We should turn in," he suggested. "It's a little early, but a full night of sleep is going to do us wonders."

"The Val'ba'ra'nay commonly sleep for around six hours anyway," Mizi said with a shrug.

"And I am nocturnal," Lozka added.

"We're all going to have a very deep and fulfilling sleep," he insisted, rising to his feet and starting to take off his suit. "That's an order."

"Aren't you cold?" Mizi asked, watching as he pulled down his zipper to expose the tank top that he was wearing beneath it.

"Yeah, but my pressure suit is covered in sand thanks to the storm. I don't want to get that shit in my sleeping bag, I'll never get it out."

As he shuffled into his sleeping bag, lying down on the far side of the cab, he watched Lozka and Mizi go through their own routine. Mizi was keeping her tight-fitting suit on again thanks to the cold, while Lozka was wearing so little that disrobing would be kind of moot. Maybe her revealing getup was something to do with letting her sweat evaporate more easily?

Lozka returned the bench to its stowed position, then sat down on the mattresses with her back to the hull, draping her oversized sleeping bag about her broad shoulders like a cape. She opened her arms to her companion, who climbed into her furry lap.

Mizi was so uninhibited, resting her scaly cheek against the leather sling that covered Lozka's bust, so short that she didn't even reach the feline's neck while sitting on one of her round thighs. Lozka wrapped an arm around her, then closed her sleeping bag around them both, zipping it up so that Mizi was completely buried. Ben could see her shifting beneath the fabric, getting comfortable.

"Hang on, I'll get the lights," he said as he struggled out of his bag. He made his way to a console on the wall and hit one of the switches, the light strips in the ceiling shutting off, plunging them into relative darkness. The only illumination now came from the glow of the monitors in the cab, bleeding into the troop bay. He returned to his sleeping bag, zipping it up, shivering in the gloom as he tried to get comfortable.

After a few minutes, he noticed that Lozka was watching him. Her reflective, green eyes pierced the shadows, shining like mirrors as they caught the light.

"Commander, you are shivering," she began. "You may join us if you do not find our company objectionable. There is room."

"I don't find your company objectionable," he sighed, attempting to withdraw his head into his sleeping bag like a turtle into its shell. "It's just...not what humans do."

Come to think of it, why the hell was he objecting to begin with? Why was he being so stubborn? Sleeping together was part of both of their social experiences, it was normal for them, expected. It wasn't normal to him, but they had both gone so far outside of their comfort zones just to be here, so why wasn't he willing to do the same? They fought together, they ate together, why was this any different? Just because he was applying his own human hangups to the idea? Besides, he was cold...

"Oh, alright," he muttered. Lozka lifted her eyes, peering at him across the bay as he began to climb out of his sleeping bag. "There's no point me lying here freezing my ass off."

Her round ears twitched in what might be surprise, but she seemed pleased, hooking her zipper in her claw and slowly lowering it. Mizi stirred, opening her jaws to yawn as she was jostled awake, blinking at him groggily. Her eyes widened when she saw that he was coming to join them, her headdress erupting in a display of vibrant pink plumage. Their feathery tips brushed Lozka's black nose, the Araxie pulling back, her eyes narrowing as though she was about to sneeze.

"You changed your mind?" Mizi asked, Ben wrapping his arms around his torso as he neared. He felt rather foolish, he wasn't exactly dressed appropriately in his tank top and shorts. Then again, he wasn't wearing any less than Lozka was, even if she carried herself with a lot more dignity than he did.

"What can I say? You two wore me down."

Mizi hopped out of Lozka's lap as the Araxie began to move, repositioning herself now that more of the bay was available. She lay on her back on the mattresses, her long, lithe body stretching almost its entire length. She beckoned to him with a clawed finger, Ben lowering himself down beside her, hesitating for a moment before laying his head on her shoulder. Her fur was like silk against his reddening cheek, near as smooth as skin, its slight dampness making it subtly slippery. He lurched as he felt her wrap an arm around him, drawing him closer to her, her sweat making her coat stick to his tank top as it pressed against her torso. She smelled of exertion, but not unpleasantly so. There was a lingering hint of soap or maybe perfume that smelled like blackberries, a remnant of a bathing regimen that she had foregone over the last couple of days, perhaps.

He wasn't sure where to put his hands. This was unfamiliar territory to him, he didn't know anything about Araxie slumber party etiquette. Lozka seemed perplexed by his reluctance, hugging him a little tighter, taking his hand in hers and draping it across her midriff. He could barely reach halfway around her, her core was so much thicker than that of a human. Beneath her velvet fur, he felt two rows of smooth muscle flex at his touch, their firmness contrasting with a physique that was otherwise unexpectedly soft and inviting. She was so warm, her massive body putting out heat like some kind of oversized hot water bottle, drawing him in.

Mizi shed her sleeping bag, curling up in Lozka's other arm like a scaly cat, draping her long tail about the Araxie's midriff. As Lozka pulled her a little closer, the reptile lay her lower jaw on the feline's torso, just beneath the leather sling that concealed her bosom. She blinked her violet eyes at Ben, her pink feathers standing erect.

"I'm glad you decided to join us," she whispered, pausing to open her mouth in a yawn that exposed her sharp little teeth. "I know that this isn't part of your culture and that it doesn't hold any special meaning for you, but..." She trailed off, a hint of purple creeping into her vibrant pink. "It's like being part of a real flock again."

"You fret like furless kittens," Lozka mumbled, her resonating voice traveling up through Ben's jaw. "Be still now."

Now that everyone was comfortable, Lozka draped her tent-like sleeping bag over them to serve as a blanket, plunging Ben and Mizi into darkness. There was some shifting and shuffling, but as they settled, their combined warmth began to fill the little pocket that they had created together.

The rhythmic drumbeat of Lozka's massive heart and her deep breathing had an oddly hypnotic quality, the warmth of her body staving off the cold. His head rose and fell along with her chest, the texture of her fur reminding him of a velvet pillow, every breath that he took filling his lungs with her oddly pleasing scent. The slick nature of her coat made him want to run his hand across it, to trace the contours of the muscles beneath, but he tried to suppress such thoughts. He had almost forgotten how it felt to share a bed with someone, maybe he really should take more shore leave...

As fatigue got the better of him, he was able to forget his lingering awkwardness, letting his body relax into her warm embrace.

***

A loud beeping roused Ben from his peaceful sleep, the sound echoing through the bay. For a moment, he didn't remember where he was. He was hugging what felt like a warm, silky body pillow, inky darkness surrounding him.

He suddenly jolted awake, Lozka sitting upright, the makeshift blanket sliding off them to expose him to the lingering cold. Mizi blinked her eyes groggily, her feathers flashing purple and yellow in a blend of surprise and worry as she propped herself up on her elbow. With no windows, it was impossible to tell if it was day or night, the troop bay was still gloomy.

"Something's tripped one of the proximity sensors," Ben warned, jumping to his feet and making his way into the cab. "If this is another fucking sand spider, I'm going to go out there to make a shish kebab out of it with a goddamned tent pole."

Lozka peered over his shoulder as he slid into his seat, Mizi climbing up her back to get a better view, wrapping her little arms around the Araxie's neck for purchase. He brought up the camera feeds from the relevant sensors, half a dozen of them displaying in separate windows on the trio of monitors. It was morning, but the storm was so thick that it was hard to make anything out, the compressed video creating blocky artifacts as it tried to record the blowing sand. As they watched, a dark object emerged, tripping the alarms again as it passed them by. Its size and the way that it seemed to glide along the sand told him that this was no native animal. It was a vehicle.

Another passed by, then another, all of them heading in an Easterly direction. The sepia haze was suddenly full of half-glimpsed silhouettes, impossible to make out in any real detail, each one headed back the way that the Timberwolf had come.

"Is that...a herd of creatures?" Mizi wondered. She sounded hopeful, but Ben guessed that she had already figured it out.

"No," Lozka replied, her tone dour. "That is a Rask raiding party."

"That's a big raiding party," Ben muttered as he watched the monitors. The ominous shadows just kept coming, and these were only the ones close enough for the cameras to make out. "The proximity sensors are about a hundred meters away from us, and I'd wager that those vehicles are out another forty of fifty, based on the visibility we had yesterday. If we'd parked up just a little further South..."

"They would have run right into us," Mizi added, her feathers flashing a deep purple.

"Our vehicle is well-camouflaged, and the sandstorm limits their visibility as much as it does ours," Lozka added. "The winds will have erased any tracks that we made last night. We shall be safe so long as we remain hidden."

"I gotta agree," Ben replied. "Wooden canoes or no, we can't take on so many, and it's not our job to do so. Once they've moved off, I'll send an emergency report to the column, let them know they've got hostiles incoming. Those guys are moving with purpose, they know where they're going. They'll cross paths with the tanks in less than a day going at that speed."

"Do you believe they mean to attack the convoy?" Lozka asked.

"I don't see where else they could be headed," he muttered, watching the dark shapes drive by.

***

"The crawlers have all reported their readiness, Admiral," the Crewmaster said as he stood beside the holographic projection. The cuts on his cheek had all but vanished, little more than knitted, pink flesh now. Violence was a normal and expected component of Rask social interaction, and their resistance to injury was one of the reasons that the humans so coveted them as auxiliaries. "The assault teams that were deployed from the carriers are nearing their targets, while the battleships Earthquake and Landslide stand ready to fire on your command. They are holding at two hundred kilometers."

"Good," Korbaz muttered, her yellow eyes scanning the map. "Remind their Crewmasters to keep moving. They should never be stationary for too long, it could make them easier to track. My Chief Engineer assures me that the battleships will be safe from return fire, but we cannot be too careful. Vitza," she added, beckoning to him with a clawed finger. He scurried closer to the table, keeping his head bowed.