The Rask Rebellion

"There was...no other way?" he asked, still grappling with the idea. "Did you suggest alternatives? Surely we can devise a strategy that does not require such sacrifice? There are choke points where we could stage ambushes, ways for us to leverage what resources remain at our disposal."

"The Matriarch rejected them," Korbaz replied with a shake of her head. "She believes that the fleet has worn out its usefulness and that the best use for the remaining crawlers is to buy time so that she can fortify the East Gate."

She considered telling him that she had intended for them to surrender, but the Matriarch was right. All that Korbaz had left at this point was her honor, her legacy. Her life was forfeit, all that mattered now was how her people remembered her.

"Then...I must alert the remaining Crewmasters," he said, reaching up to scratch his chin with his claw as he considered. "They must let their crews know to get their affairs in order."

"Are you so quick to accept this fate?" Korbaz asked, surprised by how well he was taking it. "We have been ordered to our deaths."

"It is not my place to question the will of the Matriarch," he replied, the statement rehearsed and robotic. "When we sail into battle, we do so knowing that the price of failure will be death."

"Do you think...that I did anything wrong?" Korbaz asked. Showing doubt before her subordinates might shake their faith in her ability to lead, but the situation warranted it.

The Crewmaster thought for a moment, then shrugged his broad shoulders.

"I do not see what you could have done differently. You have led us well, Admiral. You are a great strategist, you show concern for the lives of the packs who serve beneath you, your bravery has never wavered. Against such odds, I doubt that any leader could have fared better."

She nodded appreciatively, his words assuaging some of the guilt that was eating at her.

"Then, we must do our duty," she conceded. "Turn us about, we shall sail East to meet the enemy head-on. Contact the two remaining crawlers and have them rendezvous with us. The Volcano should prepare its forces for an assault, and the Earthquake should be ready to expend all of its remaining ammunition. Everyone who can still walk shall be given a rifle, and see to it that the wounded are made comfortable. We shall feast before the eve of battle, a little merriment should raise the crew's spirits."

"Very well," the Crewmaster replied, seeming relieved to have been given something to occupy himself with. "This will be a good death, Admiral," he added. "They shall weave tapestries commemorating our final battle. We cannot want for more."

"Indeed," she muttered.

"What of your prisoner?" he asked. "Now that we are no longer returning to the territory, he cannot be presented as a gift to the Matriarch. Did you ever manage to extract the information that you wanted?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," she sighed. "I shall keep him for the time being, he might yet provide me with some amusement."

"As you wish," the Crewmaster replied with a bow.

CHAPTER 18: FLEXIBILITY

The fabric of the tents whipped in the wind as Ben and Lozka made their way through the deserted camp. It was nestled between two dunes to provide the occupants some privacy and shelter, the structures now half-buried by the storm. There were three tents that reminded Ben of the large marquees that one might encounter at a wedding, albeit a little smaller, each one likely able to accommodate a single pack. Their fabric resembled burlap, its color making them blend into their surroundings. They were supported by a simple framework made from wooden poles, many of which had now collapsed, the structures sagging in on themselves under the weight of the sand.

Lozka paused to poke her head through one of the flaps, her crossbow shouldered, but whoever these tents had belonged to was long-gone now. Ben walked up to the remnants of a cooking pit that had been excavated in the center of the camp, kicking some of the sand aside with his boot to expose the stones that had lined the bottom. There were a few scattered utensils here and there, pots and cups, a collapsed spit.

"It's a good thing you spotted this place, Lozka," Ben said over his helmet radio. "We would probably have driven straight past it."

"This camp was abandoned less than a day ago," she replied, her voice crackling in his ear. She had agreed to wear her helmet once again, if only to let them communicate more easily. "Twelve hours, maybe less."

"Looks like they were in a hurry," Ben muttered, sweeping his PDW across the nearby slopes as he searched for any sign of movement. "They left most of their gear behind."

"It was probably a small raiding party, three or four packs at the most," she continued. "I see vehicle tracks, I can only just make them out. They are headed in the same direction that we are."

"Do you suppose they were recalled to their crawler?" Mizi asked. She was waiting for them in the Timberwolf a short distance away.

"Likely," Lozka replied. "Something has changed..."

"Why do you say that?" Ben asked, turning to glance at her. Her camouflaged cape fluttered in the wind as she knelt to inspect the tracks, dragging the fleshy pads on her fingers across the sand to brush away the loose layer that the storm had deposited. She looked like a detective dusting for fingerprints.

"I have never seen the Rask abandon a camp like this unless there was an emergency. Usually when they were responding to an attack."

"Well, they've lost three of their crawlers in a matter of days," Ben replied. "Maybe they're consolidating their remaining forces? That's what I'd do in their situation, it's better than letting themselves get picked off one at a time."

"It's not like they can run," Mizi added, "those crawlers have a top speed of about ten kilometers per hour. They couldn't retreat if they wanted to."

"A beast is often at its most dangerous when it is wounded and cornered," Lozka warned, her tone dour. "We should proceed with caution."

They made their way back to the Timberwolf, Lozka shaking the sand from her cape as she stepped into the troop bay. They stowed their gear, brushing themselves off as best they could, Mizi peering at them from the cab.

"Where to now?" she asked, Ben climbing back into his seat.

"It's time to call it a day," he replied, fastening his harness. "I don't need to look at a clock to know that the sun is setting."

"You can feel it in your bones," Mizi chuckled, "it's almost convenient."

"Let's put a couple of miles between us and the camp," he added, starting to tap at his monitors. "We don't want to run the risk of them coming back to pick up their stuff."

The engine rumbled as Mizi began to drive, Ben sparing Lozka a glance as she returned to her station. She grumbled under her breath as she tried to brush some more of the sand from the velvety coat on her forearm, but her sweat was making it stick to her.

"We'll help you out with that when we stop," he said, Lozka giving him an appreciative look. "A hot meal and some grooming should make everyone a lot happier."

He turned his attention back to his monitors, Lozka noticing his frown.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I'm...not sure," he replied, double-checking the readout. "The seismic readings are getting stronger."

"Shouldn't they be?" Mizi asked, turning the wheel as she maneuvered them through the storm. "We're chasing them, after all."

"No, I mean they're getting stronger much faster than they're supposed to. You know what? I think they've turned around, and they're heading this way."

"Why would they do that?" Mizi asked, her feathers flaring in confusion. "They've been completely focused on keeping as much distance between themselves and the convoy as possible this entire time. Maybe they've figured out that we're tailing them, and they're changing course to evade?"

"I don't think so," Ben mused, swiping at a graph that was displayed on one of his monitors. "If we assume that their speed is constant, I can estimate the direction that they're traveling in based on the strength of the seismic reading and its rate of change. This is the kind of curve I'd expect to see if they were heading East."

"It has to be temporary, part of some larger maneuver," Mizi suggested. "I can't believe that they'd drive back in the direction of the convoy."

"Maybe they encountered some kind of obstacle?" Ben suggested with a shrug. "I'll keep an eye on it and see if anything changes."

Before long, they had located a suitable place to make camp. Ben and Lozka exited the vehicle to drape the camouflaged netting over the Timberwolf, taking extra care to hide it with the knowledge that Rask were active in the area. When they returned to the troop bay, Lozka was even more coated in sand than before. Mizi set about cleaning her fur with the fine-toothed comb, while Ben occupied himself with making dinner. It wasn't long before Lozka was sand-free, and everyone was digging into a warm meal, the scents of cooking meat filling the troop bay.

"I'll miss eating this much meat when we have to go back," Mizi said, pausing to chew on a piece of jerked beef that was the size of a churro to her.

"Between the high gravity and the extra protein, I'm pretty sure you're going to end up the strongest Valbaran in history," Ben chuckled, watching her gnaw off another piece with her sharp little teeth.

"You speak of returning home as though it were an obligation," Lozka added, using her claws to fish inside one of the steaming MRE packets. She withdrew a hunk of meat, popping it into her mouth as Mizi glanced up at her curiously. "One would think that you did not wish to leave."

"Well," she began, a shade of embarrassed pink flushing through her headdress as she considered. "I know that we're at war and all, and that we've almost died more than once on this mission, but...I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't having fun. I like it here...with you guys. I miss my flock, sure," she added hastily. "But, this is why we signed up. To see other planets, to meet aliens, to explore what's out here. I trained to drive, I love doing it. Spaceships are cool, but the sensation of speed you get when you're racing along the ground at a hundred and twenty kilometers per hour is somehow so much greater than what you get in space, even traveling at a thousand times that speed."

"And what's your opinion of aliens so far?" Ben asked, taking a sip from a cup of hot cocoa. "Have we met your expectations?"

"I'd say that you've exceeded them," she replied, flashing him a playful smile. She shuffled closer to him on the mattresses, her thick tail snaking around his midsection possessively, like a human might drape their arm around a lover's waist. "There's something to be said for having a cute human boy around, I may just have to smuggle you back to Val'ba'ra when our deployment is over."

"I'd like to visit Valbara," he replied, feeling the tip of her tail brush his thigh through his pressure suit. "It sounds beautiful, like one huge botanical garden."

"I don't think you'd have much time for sight-seeing," she cooed. "There are six of us, after all..."

"I'm not sure I can even handle one of you," he chuckled, taking another sip of his drink.

"I'd say you do a pretty good job of handling me," she whispered, Ben sputtering into his mug. She laughed at his reaction, shooting Lozka a sly look, as though the two were conspiring in secret.

"You show such hunger for one so small, little sister," Lozka said as she watched the Valbaran tug Ben a little closer with her tail.

"Let's just say that I have a fast metabolism," she replied with a suggestive flutter of pink feathers. "What about you, Lozka? Are you still waiting for the perfect moment? I don't know how you do it, I'd go crazy."

"Patience is a hunter's virtue," she explained, her emerald eyes making Ben's heart quicken as she glanced at him from across the bay. "The thrill of the hunt is in the anticipation of the kill. It is akin to making love in many ways," she continued, Mizi watching Ben's cheeks flush red with a gleeful burst of yellow and pink plumage. "The chase is slow and methodical, building towards a violent climax, the spoils of which are shared with one's pack."

"Shouldn't a huntress strike when her prey least expects it?" Mizi suggested, goading her companion on.

"Somehow, I can't help but feel that this is at my expense," Ben muttered as he set his mug down. Lozka rose to her hands and knees, slowly crawling across the bay, her pupils dilating until only slivers of her green irises were visible. She looked like a stalking panther, her tail waving in the air behind her, Mizi glancing between her two crewmates excitedly as Lozka neared him.

"The killing blow should be swift, decisive," Lozka whispered. Her voice was so low and husky, he could feel it resonating in his chest, as though he was a violin and she was plucking at his strings. Her shiny fur reflected the light from the strips in the ceiling above as she moved, highlighting her every muscle as they shifted beneath her coat. She was like a shadow given form.

She pounced suddenly, Ben lurching reflexively, his body tensing. He felt her teeth graze his jugular, soon followed by the warmth and softness of her lips, her deadly bite morphing into an affectionate kiss. He couldn't stifle the receptive sigh that escaped his throat, the tension seeming to melt from his muscles as her wonderful scent filled his lungs.

Mizi was captivated, her violet eyes darting between the two, her feathers conveying her arousal.

"A-are you usually this forward with your Alpha?" Ben stammered, his eyelids fluttering as she nuzzled at his cheek with her wet nose.

"When I know their desires, yes," she whispered. He felt her hand cup his lower back as she lay him gently on the deck, thighs so long that her knees reached his armpits sandwiching him like a hotdog in a bun as she straddled him. She gazed down at him with those green eyes, casting him into shadow as she loomed over him.

He wasn't sure why he felt so flustered, this wasn't the first time that they had made love. She had assisted when he and Mizi had gone at it, but she had remained oddly detached that time, observing more than participating. She hadn't even removed her clothes. Now, she commanded all of his attention, Mizi sitting beside them as she watched eagerly. If there was a bag of popcorn on hand, the wide-eyed Valbaran would probably have been eating it.

"Stroke me," Lozka insisted, "as you did in the hot spring."

It was more of a suggestion than a demand, but the confidence that she radiated compelled his arms to move before his brain had even weighed in. His hands went straight to her torso, his fingers sliding on her slick, velvet coat. It was so thin that he could feel every contour of her muscles as they tensed beneath his digits, every vein, her build that of a champion gymnast. Her abs were so firm, as hard as rock when they flexed, like stones that had been rendered smooth by the flow of a stream. Her damp fur reflected the light, making her lithe figure shine, picking out the details of her toned belly. If she had not been warm to the touch, if she had not been moving and breathing, he would have believed that she had been carved from volcanic glass.

The way that she moved was ethereal, her grace transcending what any human was capable of, her movements almost supernaturally fluid. Her hips rolled hypnotically as she stroked her, her upper body remaining as still as a gyroscope, her thin fur giving him an admirable view of her sculpted muscles as they flexed and shifted. The motion made the tight leather of her shorts rub against the erection that was tenting his pressure suit, Ben wincing as his member throbbed.

Somehow, this felt like the first time that he had ever touched her, even though that wasn't at all the case. In the hot spring, he had explored her in much the same way, albeit only her back and shoulders. He and Mizi had practically made love on top of her. But this time, she was his sole focus, and there were no limits to where his hands could roam.

Lozka began to stretch like a gymnast preparing for a set, raising her arms above her head. She rolled her shoulders, twisting her upper body, Ben's mouth hanging agape as she doubled over backwards. It was like her spine was made of rubber, her short-cropped hair brushing the mattress as her back formed a perfect arch, her thighs still gripping him. She held the position for what seemed like an eternity, then sprang back upright, cocking her head at his expression.

"You're...uh...limber," he mumbled, hearing Mizi chuckle off to his left.

"I am a huntress," she replied, "my body is as much a weapon as my bow. Both must be maintained with the same care if I am to carry out my duties."

"You look like you've seen a Teth'rak, Commander," Mizi giggled. She bit her lip, drinking in the sight as her eyes played across their bodies. "I really want to join in," she whined, her feathers flaring pink. "But I think I should follow Lozka's example. The reward for patience will be getting to watch her work. If she makes love anything like she hunts, then you're in over your head."

"I will be gentle with the Commander," Lozka insisted, Mizi lying down on her side as she settled in to watch the show.

"Not too gentle, I hope," she replied with a smirk.

"W-wait, wait," Ben mumbled, his two companions glancing at him curiously.

"Is something wrong?" Lozka asked.

"I'm only kidding, Commander," Mizi added. "I'm sure she'll treat you like you're made of glass."

"No, nothing's wrong," he replied with a shake of his head. "I just...wanted to try something before we jump straight into this. Lozka, would you please lie down?"

The Araxie nodded, lifting herself off him, lowering herself down onto the mattresses that lined the deck of the troop bay. Her frame was so massive that she could stretch out almost its entire length, the tip of her tail nearing the ramp at the rear. Mizi shuffled out of her way, watching curiously as Ben rose to his knees.

"Like in the hot spring," he said, his cheeks burning as he leaned over Lozka's chiseled midriff. "That was what you wanted, right?"

"There is no need for you to indulge me in this way, Commander," she protested. Where once there had been only steely confidence, Ben now saw flashes of uncertainty, of anticipation. Seeing the usually stoic warrior flustered made his heart melt, his desire for her burning ever brighter as he watched her fret.

"Maybe the Alpha is the center of attention in Araxie packs," he said, glancing at Mizi. "But we're also a flock, and a crew. Now, roll over onto your stomach, I'll start with your back."

She didn't need to be asked twice, Mizi creeping a little closer to get a better look as Ben cracked his knuckles.

"You should take off your...uh...sling," he suggested. Lozka did as he asked, rising to her knees to slide off her leather top. The garment had been tight, the primitive equivalent of a sports bra, keeping her assets from bouncing around while she moved. She made no attempt to cover herself as she had in the spring, as there was no reason to now, Ben watching as her breasts slipped out of their support. Even if they were modest on her svelte frame, they were larger than he had anticipated, wobbling enticingly as she tossed the sling aside. As lean as her figure was, her sheer stature made them full and heavy enough to rival those of any busty human. Just like the rest of her body, they were coated in a thin layer of fur that reflected the light with a wet sheen, a pair of pink nipples protruding from her dark coat.

She covered herself with one arm as she returned to her prone position, Ben watching the meat of her bosom spread as she lay on her front. He began his massage at her neck, tracing her vertebrae with his thumbs, using them to work out the tension in her muscles. She was so highly strung, always on alert, she only seemed to relax when she was asleep. There was an entirely new collection of knots that she must have collected in the scant days since their hot spring visit, the muscles in her neck and shoulders were practically petrified.