The Rask Rebellion

A pair of fingers reached down to spread her open, exposing satin folds like the petals of a blooming rose, her opening twitching eagerly. Green leaned in from the left, resting her cheek on Red's thigh as she opened her mouth, her tongue snaking forth. Cooper watched it with wide eyes as the organ reached towards Red's drooling loins, brushing against her labia, a shiver rolling through her beleaguered body. Using the smooth underside, Green began to lap at her counterpart's vulva, her saliva blending with Red's fluids.

It couldn't have been a comfortable position for Green, but this way, Cooper's view wasn't obstructed. Korbaz whispered in her ear all the while, giving her lurid instructions as she glanced over at her transfixed captive.

The squirming tongue began to push deeper, vanishing an inch at a time. Green had such fine control over it, Cooper marveling at the way that she could fold it in on itself to cover the rough barbs, the muscle flexing and twisting as it licked Red from the inside.

"Isn't she good with her tongue?" Korbaz giggled, noticing his fixation. "I'll bet she could write her name on the back of your throat. Would you like to find out?"

He didn't reply, watching Red writhe on the mattress as Green filled her. The other women kept up their teasing, some of them pausing to disrobe, tossing their colorful outfits to the carpet. They undressed Red, tearing off her elegant clothes so that they could access more of her writhing body.

"I want you to see how many times you can make her come," Korbaz said, giving her order in English for Cooper's benefit. "I want her so exhausted that she can no longer stand. All the better to show our guest what his stubbornness is costing him."

They dragged Red higher up the bed, tossing her into a pile of soft cushions, falling upon her like a pride of lions on a kill. They became a heaving, writhing mass of sculpted bodies. Cooper was unable to tell where one ended, and the next began. He caught glimpses of glistening, tanned skin, of quivering flesh and flexing muscle. Claws tore at the pillows, cutting into the fabric, the bed creaking as their lovemaking took on a more aggressive quality. They were so vigorous, so shameless, a passion and athleticism that transcended anything that he could have imagined put on display.

Someone's shapely ass rose into the air, a pair of hands gripping its cheeks, quickly pulling it back into the pile. A head appeared as though breaching for air, its golden hair flowing, its lips open in a silent cry of pleasure. Breasts spilled over tensing midriffs like molten plastic, lips pursed around firm nipples, damp tongues sought one another out in the chaos to entwine in lurid spirals. Fingers delved into flesh as soft as butter, hands cupping heaving breasts, taking generous handfuls of rumps and thighs. Toes and tails curled, their sordid dance a blend of unearthly grace and base, bestial desire. Sweat-drenched skin slid against skin, droplets of their shared exertion sparkling like diamonds when they caught the light, eyes like gold shining in the shadows.

When Cooper tore his gaze away from the sight, he noticed that once again, Korbaz was focused only on him. How could she ignore the orgy that was going on not a foot away from her? How was she so indifferent to the moans of ecstasy that filled the room? Was this so routine to her that it had become...boring?

"You can join them," she cooed, gesturing to the seething mass of Rask. "Just say the word, and I'll toss you into their midst."

As if on cue, five pairs of arms reached out from the pile. The women beckoned to him, their breathy, lustful invitations drilling into his brain like the songs of Sirens luring sailors to their doom. Resisting was using up all of his willpower, he was actually trembling, struggling to rein in his wilder proclivities as what promised to be the most intense experience of his life took place mere steps away.

"Give up," he shot back, channeling his frustration into his disdain for Korbaz. "This is everything that you can throw at me, and it's still not enough."

There was a cry of pleasure from the pile, the sound distracting both Cooper and Korbaz from their argument. A few of the women pulled away from Red, who was buried at the bottom of the heap, their furry hands still stroking her twitching body as they eased out what looked to be an Earth-shattering orgasm.

Their bosoms swayed as they caught their breath, rivulets of sweat pouring from their bodies, their blonde hair damp and messy. Red lurched as another wave of her climax tore through her, the attendants holding her down gently as her hips bucked into the air, beads of her sudor flying from her shining skin. The way that her abs tensed in waves was hypnotic, her back creating a perfect arch, her lips pulling back to expose her sharp teeth. One of the females was rubbing between her thighs, two more kneading her breasts, their eyes playing over her struggling form.

She gradually came down from her high, her afterglow making her affectionate and giggly, sharing tender kisses with her counterparts as they afforded her a few moments to recover. Korbaz had told them to keep it up, and so they did, resuming their lovemaking once Red's legs had stopped shaking. Cooper didn't doubt that they could keep it up all night, but as much as he wanted to drink in the sight, the shock and novelty was starting to wear off now. He was regaining his composure, much to Korbaz's apparent irritation.

"Why do you look so bored by all this?" he asked suspiciously, the conversation helping him keep his mind off the show. "I don't know many people who are happy to start and not finish."

"I can satisfy my urges whenever I please," she snapped.

"But...you didn't," he continued. "I have a good reason to refuse, but you don't. I know that you guys don't prefer one gender over another, so it can't be the fact that they're all girls." He thought for a moment longer, Korbaz glaring at him, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. "Wait a minute...what was it you said earlier, about there being two kinds of pleasure?"

Her eyes narrowed, her tail flicking back and forth on the bed.

"What of it?" she muttered.

"You said that there were two kinds of pleasure," he repeated, growing more enthusiastic as the pieces began to fall into place. "One where you dominate, where you fight with another Rask and assert yourself over them. You told me that forcing them to submit to you was one of the most intense experiences that life has to offer."

Her ears flattened against her hair. Was he striking a nerve?

"There was a second," he continued. "Submitting to someone who overpowers you, giving yourself up completely to the will of another. They both revolve around dominance bouts, win, or lose." He glanced at the writhing pile of Rask, shaking his head. "There's no fight here, nobody is vying for dominance, nobody is drawing any blood. You're the bloody Admiral," he added, gesturing to the scowling alien. "You're already at the top of the food chain. The whole crew is scared shitless of you, they won't even look you in the eye, let alone start a fight with you. I've seen it all around the crawler."

"As well they should," she grumbled.

"But your status means that there's nobody to submit to, either. Nobody will dare challenge your position, which means that you can't dominate, and you can't submit." He rocked his head back, his laughter echoing through the room. A couple of the females stopped what they were doing to peer at him, glancing nervously at Korbaz as though they could sense her simmering anger.

"You speak of things that you know nothing about!" Korbaz growled, her cheeks starting to flush with a blend of what must be fury and embarrassment. "You would do well to hold your tongue before what little patience I have left is gone."

"Oh, I understand more than you know," Cooper chuckled, undeterred by her threats. "You can't get off, can you? How ironic is that? Anyone on the crawler will drop their pants if you give the word, but that's the last thing you want, isn't it?"

"Shut up!" she snarled, her claws tearing at the edge of the mattress to expose the stuffing within. This was the first time that he had really seen her lose her cool, her face was beet red, her pearly teeth bared as her brow furrowed like an angry lion. Her pupils had dilated into black circles, a vein in neck pulsing.

"We're in the exact same situation, but your cage is a social one, and you built it yourself. Every new success and promotion adds a new bar to your cell."

"Leave us!" Korbaz bellowed, her voice resonating with an intimidating growl. The five women couldn't have gotten out of there faster, scrambling over each other to get clear of the bed, rushing out of the room with their revealing outfits bundled up in their arms.

Cooper was frightened, he had finally gotten to her, but the satisfaction that he felt was far stronger than his fear. Korbaz stalked over to his cage, looming over it, talons as sharp as butcher's knives scraping on the metal bars.

"I should have thrown you to the hounds and found myself a more cooperative human days ago," she hissed, the cage creaking as she leaned more of her weight on it. "You wretched court jester."

"Court jester?" he chuckled, his laughter seeming to stab at her like daggers.

"Laugh all you want," she hissed. "I should hang the keys to your cell outside the door and let the whole crew know that you're fair game. I'd love to see you broken and bruised, fucked into a quivering wreck, thrown around like a chew toy. I could take you right now if I wanted to, use you in every imaginable way. What could you do to stop me?"

"But that's not what you want, is it?" Cooper asked. He climbed to his feet, gripping the bars above with his one hand, bringing his face so close to hers that he could feel her hot breath through the cage. "Yeah, you weigh five times what I do, easy. I couldn't hope to stop you." A grin spread across his face, Korbaz blinking in confusion. "But where's the sport in that? You want to get in my head, you want me to give in willingly. If it was as simple as pinning me down and taking what you want, then you would have done that day one. No," he continued, shaking his head. "You want information, you want me on my knees, eating you out like that girl in the Green dress. Those are your win conditions. Taking me by force," he whispered, getting close enough to her that his nose brushed against hers, "means that you lose."

Korbaz loosed a bestial roar, slamming her fists down on the cage, making Cooper recoil. She stormed across the bedroom, tossing a sculpted table out of her path, digging her claws into the mattress as she reached the bed. The muscles in her arms and back bulged as she tore it from the frame, upending it onto the carpet, sending the sheets and pillows spilling onto the floor. She stood there, panting, the swinging chandelier casting its light on her wet skin. She turned to look back at him slowly, her eyes those of a wild animal.

"If I cannot get what I want out of you," she said, her newfound calmness somehow more intimidating than her vicious outburst. "I shall ensure that the rest of your days are spent in disgrace and servitude."

"You'd still lose," he replied. She reached down and scooped up her clothes, giving him a cold stare as she marched out of the room, the door sliding shut behind her. Cooper allowed himself to relax for a moment, exhaling a sigh as he glanced about the trashed room. "Temper, temper," he muttered to himself.

CHAPTER 17: EXPENDABLE

"Got it," Song said, his voice crackling over the helmet's ad-hoc. "Transmitting Matriarchy encryption keys back to Fleetcom. Next time any of the crawlers send a transmission, we'll know about it. I can also extrapolate their course from the log files in the comms buffer, that should give us an idea of where the others are."

"Good work, Song," Brenner replied. He was standing on the deck of the captured crawler, which they now knew to be named Landslide, peering out over the dunes as the sandstorm hammered against his visor. He lifted a prosthetic hand, feeling the airborne particles whip at his housing as though it were skin. It would probably have stung like a motherfucker if he still had his Mk Is, but his synthetic nerves were not programmed to transmit pain.

Brenner brought up a window on his display, a satellite view of the area that the aliens called the Dune Sea, captured prior to the storm. His HUD let him know that he was receiving a download from Song, and with a few taps at the touch panel that was embedded in his forearm, he overlaid a graphic of the recorded transmissions over the map. There were points where transmissions had been sent to other crawlers, linked by a line to plot their courses.

"There's one directly North of us," Brenner said, "that's the closest. If they were sending a convoy to secure the crawler, then that's where it would be coming from. They're pressed for time, they know that the UNN will be rolling through here soon. Do we have control over all systems yet?"

"All of the crawler's weapons are under our control," Song replied.

"Good, point them in that direction. Can those naval guns depress far enough to hit targets on the ground at about seventy meters? That's about the limit of our visibility."

"I think so," Song replied. "One more thing, command diverted three mechanized companies from the Araxie territory. Delta, Echo, and Foxtrot. With a small course correction, they'll end up right where the carrier to our North should be."

"Let command know," Brenner replied. "The Kodiaks will tear that thing apart."

"Roger that."

Hoff approached from Brenner's left, joining him on the hull, his rifle clasped in his arms. There was a moment of silence as he admired the massive railguns, their original Navy grey painted over with crude desert camouflage.

"We're airtight," he finally said. Even standing a foot apart, they had to use the local network, as the storm was loud enough to drown them out. "The Rask aren't getting inside the hull, even if they find a way to reach the gantry."

"Good," Brenner muttered. "We think we know what direction they'll be coming from, we have the element of surprise, and we're firing from elevation. I don't see how this can go badly for us."

"Fish in a barrel," Hoff chuckled.

"I've got Song on the crawler's guns, they're all slaved to one targeting system. We have two Cupcakes and three guns on this side, the cats won't know what hit them. I want everyone else up on the deck, we need to wipe the enemy out before they get to cover beneath the crawler. I don't want to have to go down and get them."

"I'll see that it's done," Hoff replied. "Can't we use that launcher?" he asked, gesturing to the ballistic missile platform that was welded to the front of the deck. It had four massive tubes that were covered in camouflaged netting. It looked like it had been taken from the bed of a truck and welded to the crawler's hull.

"It's pointing in the wrong direction," Brenner explained. "But yeah, that would have been fun..."

"We'll get ready," Hoff said, starting to walk back to the conning tower, the tall structure shrouded in the sepia haze. "Any idea on the ETA?"

"Nope," Brenner replied. "Now, we wait."

***

The Timberwolf bounced on its suspension as it crested a dune, its occupants jostling in their bucket seats. They were hot on the trail of another crawler, Ben keeping a close eye on the seismic sensor.

"Maintain current heading and speed," he said, Mizi replying with an affirmative chirp.

"Watch for more tracks," Lozka added, her eyes fixed on the feed from her turret cam. "Even if the Rask have discovered that they are being hunted, they will have no way to conceal them."

"Got a priority one coming through," Ben said, his companions turning their heads to glance at him. "Fucking storm interrupted the download, hang on, trying to receive again. There we go."

His eyes widened as they scanned the readout on his monitor, Lozka watching him curiously.

"What is it?" she asked. "You look surprised."

"They've somehow managed to get their hands on the unencrypted logs for the Rask comms!"

"What does that mean?" Lozka asked, glancing between her two excited crewmates.

"The crawlers have been reporting their locations to one another," Ben explained. "Every time one talked to another, a log file was created. Someone got their hands on those log files, which means that we can see everywhere that the crawlers have been, and extrapolate where they're going to be." He overlaid the information over their satellite map, swiping it to his companions' monitors. "Combine this data with our seismic tracking technique, and the Rask are screwed. They can't hide from us anymore."

"We're right on track," Mizi chuckled. "We can't be more than a day behind this one."

"It's over," Ben added, relaxing back into his seat. "They can't outrun us, they can't out-fight us, and they can't hide. If it wasn't for the storm and the MASTs, we could destroy all of the remaining carriers with a single orbital bombardment."

"Did we get any new orders?" Mizi asked.

"No," he replied. "We stay the course, confirm the location of our target, then shadow it until the artillery company comes into range."

"What do you think the Rask will do, Lozka?" Mizi asked. "You know them best. Will they surrender? Keep fighting?"

"They are stubborn," she replied. "They will view anything less than victory or death as a failure. I believe that their leaders will compel them to fight to the last."

"That's insane," Ben said, frowning at her. "Are you sure about that?"

"I have never known the Rask to surrender," she continued, her emerald eyes meeting his own. "We should prepare for more bloodshed."

***

"The convoy is hailing us," Song warned. "They're requesting a status update on our repairs."

Brenner was up on the windswept deck of the crawler, lying prone between two of the towering naval guns along with the majority of his team, their weapons aimed at the dunes below. He adjusted the scope on his XMR, switching view modes in an attempt to improve the visibility. It was so strange to be fifty meters off the ground, but only to be able to see about that far in any direction.

"Tell them to report their coordinates," Brenner replied, holding a finger to the touchpad on the side of his helmet. "Tell them our radio is down, and use text only, unless you learned to speak Rask without telling me."

"Text it is," Song said.

"If they're dumb enough to actually do it, I want a firing solution on their position. Hit them with the guns."

"Got them," Song chuckled, "brace for a salvo. I don't imagine the Rask put much thought into shock dampening."

He watched as the naval guns to either side of him began to turn, the long barrels that extended from their angular housings pointing in the direction of the incoming Rask convoy. They elevated slightly, the motion far smoother and more fluid than befitted the makeshift nature of the crawler. These things were usually mounted to frigates, there was no way to get this close to one under normal circumstances without going EVA.

"Poor bastards have no idea what's about to hit 'em," Stevens muttered.

The deck beneath them shook as the guns fired their first salvo, the magnetic rails in the barrels accelerating sixteen-kilogram slugs at multiple times the speed of sound. They rocked in their housings, threatening to tear themselves from the crawler's hull, the loud cracks of the projectiles shattering the sound barrier drowning out the howling of the storm. It sounded like thunder, so loud that it made his teeth chatter, only the dampening software on his helmet preserving his hearing. The first salvo was followed up by a second, then a third, the impact threatening to shake the crawler apart.