The Rask Rebellion

When he was done, he set his bowl down at his side, patting his belly contentedly.

"Shame I can't cook like this every day," he mused, watching Lozka finish off her meal. "Starting fires in the Timberwolf's troop bay isn't the best idea."

His eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of her long, pink tongue snaking out to clean the pot. It was nothing like a human's, it must have been near a foot in length, the flat of it covered in what looked like feline barbs. It seemed to be prehensile, moving more like a tentacle than a tongue, scraping up every last drop of the stew.

"That would be nice," Mizi said, distracting him from the odd sight. "But your regular cooking is nothing to scoff at. You're a wizard with a flameless heater, Commander."

"Are you going to be able to go back to eating insect protein bars after all the meat we've been feeding you?" he asked, reaching out to pat her scaly head. "I think you might even grow a few inches at this rate."

She batted him away playfully, Ben chuckling. There was a metallic clink as Lozka set her pot on the ground, her snaking, glistening tongue wetting her black lips to make them shine in the lamplight.

"A fine meal," she muttered, giving Ben an appreciative glance. "Would that we had another like you back in the village. The cooks in the felled hall are second to none, yes, but we are seldom so well fed during our outings into the deep jungle. We mostly subsist on cured and salted meat if we cannot catch something warm and living."

"Happy to oblige," he said, Mizi beaming as she watched the two interact. "We'd best turn in," he added, leaning over to check the wrist display on his discarded suit. "As nice as taking a break has been, we have to get back to work tomorrow."

"As you wish, Commander," Lozka said as she rose to her feet. Mizi followed behind her obediently, the two making their way over to the large sleeping bag that was laid out on the rocks a few feet from the lamp. Everyone was still wet, and with so much humidity in the air, there was no point trying to dry off. It was warm enough that it wasn't an issue, however. The steam that rose from the hot springs drove off the frigid cold of the desert, and Ben felt no need to put his suit back on. He lay out his sleeping bag, intending to sleep on top of it rather than getting inside it, then paused to glance over at his companions. They were doing the same, spreading out their sleeping bag like a giant picnic blanket and lying down atop it, Lozka's wet fur shining in the yellow glow as she stretched out. Mizi curled up in the crook of her arm like a scaly cat, thinking nothing of leaning her head on her partner's chest.

He felt that same knot in his stomach, the same sense of longing, an impulse demanding that he join them. There was no need for excuses anymore, he didn't need to be huddling for warmth to share a bed with them. All that mattered was that he wanted to be close to them and that they wanted the same thing. He stood up, rubbing his arm sheepishly as his voice echoed through the basin.

"Room for one more?"

Two pairs of alien eyes peered out at him from the gloom, Lozka's feline pupils reflecting the lamplight like a pair of mirrors, Mizi's headdress flaring pink in what he now recognized as a blush.

"Always," the Valbaran chirped, Ben walking over to them. This time, Mizi moved aside, patting the plush sleeping bag between her and Lozka. It seemed that they wanted to make a human sandwich. He lay down beside the Araxie, who draped her silky arm around his shoulders, her bicep cushioning his head. Her fur was warm and slick, his heart fluttering as her renewed blackberry scent reached his nose, mingling with her exertion in a way that set his senses alight. Mizi came in from his left, draping her arm across his stomach as she pressed up against him. She lay her head on his chest, her smooth scales noticeably cooler than Lozka's velvet coat, nuzzling as she shifted her weight to get comfortable. He felt something slithering across his thigh, looking down to see that her chubby tail was draped over his leg. She smelled like wet leather, with a hint of the soap that she had probably picked up in the water.

Ben scooped her up in his arm, hearing a sigh escape her lips, her headdress tickling his chin. This felt...different from the last time. He had been wearing his suit when they had slept together in the Timberwolf, but now their scales and fur were pressed up tight against his damp skin, there was no barrier between them. It was oddly calming.

This was his reality now, his new normal. He could get used to this...

CHAPTER 11: NO SALE

"Did you learn anything from the human?" the Crewmaster asked, Korbaz pausing to take a sip of her drink before replying. They were lounging in one of the common rooms, sitting atop a pile of silk cushions as their attendants brought them refreshments.

"Only that I hate the little bastard," she snarled. "He's smarter than he looks, it's going to take more prying to get anything useful out of him. I'm hoping that spending a night alone in his cell may have loosened his sharp tongue enough for me to try again. How long until the carriers are reinforced?"

"The convoy will arrive in two days," he replied, reaching out to select a morsel of meat from a platter that was being presented to him by an attractive female. He popped it into his mouth, savoring the taste for a moment. "As per your orders, I have sent out smaller raiding parties to harass the interlopers in the meantime. Once the convoy arrives, we can organize a second large-scale assault on their formation."

"I want to know how to crack their tanks by then," she said, leaning back into the cushions as she swirled her drink in her cup. "We need that edge. The human claims that he is a mere gunner and that he knows nothing of codes or plans. Even if that is true, he still knows the Kodiaks inside and out. If they have a weakness, then he knows how to exploit it."

"I would not believe him so readily," the Crewmaster added. "His injuries mark him as an experienced warrior. If he were Rask, he would be of high status."

"We shall see," Korbaz muttered, running her claw around the rim of her glass idly.

***

Cooper was woken by the sound of something rattling against the bars of his cell. He sat up on his cot, forgetting for a moment that he only had one arm and almost tumbling onto the floor. It was the Admiral. She was stowing a large knife in a holster on her thigh, peering at him like a tiger that was on the wrong side of its cage.

"Oh look, it's the biggest fish in the smallest, scummiest pond," he muttered as he rubbed his eyes groggily.

"Did you sleep well, Corporal?" she asked with an insincere smile.

"I've slept on the hull of a tank," he replied, "a cot isn't going to break my resolve."

"I can always arrange to have it removed if a hard floor would make you more comfortable," she added with a grin.

"What do you want, Korbaz?"

"I would prefer that you address me by the title of Admiral," she grumbled, her flat brow furrowing. "But, I suppose that's too much to expect. You must be hungry," she added, "you haven't eaten since yesterday evening."
"Yeah, you made sure of that," he replied. There was a clunk as she unlocked his cell, swinging the door open on its squeaking hinges, beckoning to him with a furry hand.

"Come, join me for breakfast."

He looked her up and down warily, then slid off his cot, making his way over to the door. There was no doubt in his mind that she only wanted to interrogate him again, but an empty stomach was a strong motivator.

Unlike the guards who had come to fetch him the day before, she let him walk beside her without restraining him. As she had told him over dinner the evening prior, there was no way for him to escape. Even if he somehow managed to make it off the crawler and he was able to evade his pursuers, where would he go? They were smack bang in the middle of a desert, he'd die of exposure in hours.

As she led him through the winding, industrial corridors of the crawler's underbelly, the personnel who were tending to their duties scurried out of her path like cockroaches. They bowed their heads as she passed them by, affording her a kind of reverence that bordered on fear. Cooper had to resist the urge to laugh. It was so strange to be amongst these people, to see them so tightly bound to a social system that he couldn't give less of a fuck about.

She had him climb the ladder into the prefabs on the deck of the vehicle, and he once again found himself in one of the lavishly furnished compartments. This time, rather than taking him to the dining hall with the large table, she led him over to a pile of cushions in one corner of the room. The walls were draped with more purple curtains that met on the ceiling, making it feel like they were in a giant tent, everything lit by the dim glow of hanging lamps. Korbaz settled into the soft pillows, her leather getup creaking as she shifted her weight.

"Won't you join me?" she asked, gesturing to her side. Cooper shrugged, then sat down beside her, sinking into the cushions. He had nothing better to do, might as well play along if it meant getting fed. The Admiral called out in her native language, and a female entered the room, carrying a silver platter in her furry hands.

She was quite the specimen, tall and graceful, a waterfall of golden hair reaching her bare shoulders. Unlike the rest of the crew, she wasn't wearing leather or armor. Instead, she wore a flowing garment that somewhat resembled a sari, made from a semi-transparent fabric in shades of red and orange. It just barely served to protect her modesty, her top leaving her cleavage and her toned midriff exposed, her skin a sun-kissed shade of tan. Her long skirt was high-cut, exposing a smooth, muscled thigh with every step that she took. She leaned down to offer him an assortment of meats, giving him a clear view straight down her top, the motion making a pair of breasts the size of his head wobble.

Korbaz let him stare for a moment, then reached out to pluck a strip of roasted meat from the tray, snapping him out of his stupor.

"See anything that you like?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"The food," she added, giving him a smirk as she popped a morsel into her mouth.

Cooper tore his eyes away from the beautiful alien, grabbing a cut of what looked like pork with his bare hand, the oil that coated it making it slippery. He began to chew into it, tearing at it like a dog, as the Rask had not provided him with any cutlery.

"I want to tell you a story," Korbaz began, waving away the attendant. Cooper watched her wide hips roll as she walked away, waiting obediently beside the far wall. "Imagine that you are on Earth, a thousand years ago, if you would. Your planet is made up of warring states, each vying for power and territory. Now, imagine that an alien species arrives on your homeworld, one so advanced that you cannot even comprehend their technology."

"I see where this is going," Cooper muttered, taking another bite of his meat.

"Indulge me," Korbaz said, a hint of irritation creeping into her voice. "These hypothetical aliens will share their marvelous technology with you, but only if you pledge your allegiance to them, and cooperate with whatever edicts they hand down. At first, your government refuses, they do not want to be ruled by a foreign power. But those who do cooperate are given technologies that accelerate their development by centuries in the blink of an eye. Soon, you find that you are surrounded by hostile nations who have equipped their armies with alien weaponry. What choice is left but to submit to the demands of the interlopers?"

Cooper continued to eat, one of Korbaz's furry ears flicking with annoyance as she watched him.

"So, your government joins the aliens, they begin receiving the weapons that they require to defend their interests. The aliens do not understand or appreciate your way of life, however. They outlaw practices that have put food on your tables and clothes on your backs for centuries, they criminalize the very thing that makes your people who they are. What choice do you have left but to rebel? How can you endure these insults, how can you watch your people sink into destitution?"

"Let me tell you what you should have done," Cooper replied, pausing his chewing. "Sure, an argument could be made that the Coalition upset the balance of power on Borealis, but that's an infinitely better outcome than a defenseless planet being wiped clean by a marauding Hive fleet. You needed protection that only we could provide. Yeah, you can't be bloody pirates. Of course we outlawed your so-called way of life, as any sane government would. If your culture revolves around raiding and stealing, then your culture is a trash fire. You agreed to stop being cunts when you signed up."

Korbaz opened her mouth to offer a scathing rebuttal, but he cut her off.

"You had the option to move on. You could have taken the development grants that the Coalition offers and used them to start farms, to build factories, you could have used relief money to feed your population during the transition. But you didn't do that, did you? Instead, you decided you were going to start a war against an alliance that has planet-destroying battleships."

He began to wave his hand, Korbaz raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"What...what are you doing?"

"I'm clapping sarcastically, but you won't give me my fucking arm back, so you'll just have to use your imagination."

She bared her teeth, glaring at him with her yellow eyes.

"You would have a nation of noble warriors become farmers?" she sneered. "Humans are honorless. Those who have never known dignity cannot fathom the measures that we must sometimes take to protect it."

"You're not going to get me to defect by telling me a sob story about how the big bad aliens are trying to stop you from raiding trading caravans," he muttered, finishing off his meat. "That's like someone claiming that the police are trying to destroy his livelihood because they won't let him mug joggers in the park."

"This is our way," she snapped. "The weak are ruled by the strong, and those who cannot protect their property do not deserve to keep it."

"If the strong rule the weak, then shouldn't you be happy to be ruled over by the Coalition?" he asked. She began to speak, then paused, thinking for a moment.

"Your people are not truly strong," she shot back. "Anyone can sit on a spaceship and drop bombs on the defenseless people below. Anyone can kill their adversary from a league away with a railgun. The Rask are mighty, both in our physicality, and our strength of will. The hardships that we endure in the desert shape us into warriors, they instill in us an unshakable resolve, while your kind cannot even handle the planet's gravity. Humans are born clawless, a pitiful state of being reserved for slaves, while we inflict injuries upon one another in mere play that would fatally wound you. Our packs are led by the strongest among their number, while your people are ruled over by simpering bureaucrats and politicians. Put a Rask and a human in a room, and the Rask will always come out on top."

"And if I tied your arms behind your back and muzzled you, you couldn't win either, so what's your point? Listen," he added, stopping her before she went on another rant. "It's like you said. Back in the old days, human nations fought each other too. Sometimes we still have disagreements. But we learned that what's out there," he said, pointing to the ceiling for emphasis, "doesn't give a fuck about borders. They don't care if we call ourselves Australians, Russians, or Martians. They're going to kill us simply because we're in their way. When the Bugs come knocking, you're going to want the Coalition at your back. None of this shit matters, it's a waste of everyone's time."

Korbaz had no answer for him, stewing as she leaned back into the pile of cushions. After a moment, she called the attendant back over, the woman leaning down to offer the Admiral another piece of meat. Cooper helped himself to another cut, watching Korbaz as she sat there, even her chewing coming across angry.

"Enough of this game," she finally grumbled, seeming to come to some kind of decision. "If I cannot sway you with words, I will find another way."

"This should be good," Cooper chuckled.

"My interest in you is not merely because of the information that you carry," she said. He watched, his eyes widening as she extended her tongue to lick the juices from her furry fingers. A length of glistening, pink flesh slid past her lips, coiling around one of her digits like a snake. It must have been near a foot long, its upper surface coated in barbs that she was using to clean her fur, while the underside was as smooth as that of a human. It returned to her mouth, Cooper trying not to look too flustered by what he had just seen.

"I have a theory," she continued, "that humans actually do know how to submit. That instinct lies dormant in you somewhere, and I believe that it can be awakened. The structure of a pack is not so different from that of your military. You defer to those of higher rank, you obey the orders of your superiors without question. Yet, somehow, you fail to apply that logic to your social lives."

"What are you getting at?" he asked warily.

"I've seen how your kind lives," she said, leaning over and pressing one of her sharp claws beneath his chin. He winced, lifting his head reflexively, Korbaz turning it from side to side as she examined him. "You live in a tiny box on a spaceship for most of your lives, eating packaged rations, playing games to stave off the boredom. A joyless existence."

She released him, Cooper glaring at her as he rubbed his chin.

"If you were to submit, to give me what I want, then I could give you a pack of your own. How about that?" she asked, her lips curling into a wry smile. "I am second only to the Matriarch, I have authority over all Rask. I need only give the order, and they would obey you as though the words had come from my own lips."

"And why would I want that?" he asked skeptically.

Korbaz grinned at him, then called to the attendant, the woman making her way over to their cushion pile. She knelt in front of Korbaz, her head bowed, Cooper glancing between the two of them in confusion. The Admiral reached out, running her claws through the attendant's silky, blonde hair.

"Do you desire her?" she asked, Cooper frowning at her. "I could make her yours..."

She took a tighter grip on the woman's golden locks and drew her closer, Cooper's heart skipping a beat as their full, pink lips pressed together. Korbaz cradled the attendant's head in her furry hands as she pushed her tongue into her mouth, that same length of wet, rosy flesh bulging the woman's cheeks. The attendant shivered, then began to melt into her superior's embrace, her amber eyes losing their focus as Korbaz subjected her to a greedy kiss. A strand of saliva escaped their joined lips as Cooper watched, catching brief glimpses of their alien tongues coiling around one another, forming a slippery spiral. He could hear his own blood rushing in his ears, his breath catching in his throat as he stared, fixated by their bawdy display.

The attendant uttered a comely moan as the Admiral began to unfasten her gossamer top, Cooper's eyes wandering down to her chest as her breasts spilled out of the fabric. Two perfect globes of flesh fell free of their silky supports, so full and heavy, bouncing gently as they impacted her torso. He had never seen anything like them. They must be the size of beachballs, which would have looked absurd on a human woman, but the greater stature and larger build of the aliens made them more appropriate. Her skin was such an enticing shade of caramel, a pair of erect, pink nipples drawing his eye.