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Blitz woke up and almost immediately wanted to go back to sleep. Not because she was tired and simply couldn't handle the post-apocalypse today. Because she was bored and...

And something else.

She rolled onto her back and disrupted her blanket, a small gust of trapped air hitting her in the nostrils. The heavy scent of failed self-gratification hung heavy under her sheets, a thick musk obvious to anyone with a decent sent of smell. Blitz was buzzing with energy despite the fact she had hardly slept last night. She'd even gone to bed early, but she had just thrashed from one side to the other, her fingers darting between her legs at random intervals for near enough eight hours. The mattress had a wet patch on it, like the spare pillow she'd clamped between her thighs as if trying to quell her yoni's constant screams for attention.

It couldn't have been later than 0800-hours and Blitz expected a ratty intercom announcement to reveille her patrol team for a monotonous hike along the headquarters perimeter. At least she'd get some fresh air, but frankly she needed something other than a walk to clear her head.

Her hands moved with a mind of their one. She pinched a nipple between her thumb and forefinger, not enough to hurt but enough to fill her chest with electric sparks of joy. Her head rolled back and her back arched off the bed and she let a small moan escape her throat. She couldn't contain herself. She couldn't even think straight.

At the same time her other hand felt down along the smooth contours of her body. Here was barely a shred of fat to hang on to. She was rather flat chested, but had smooth curves about her hips. She was mostly lean muscle, a flexible frame and aerodynamic curves. It was simply the way sharks like her were built, and it was often the source of jealousy among her friends, despite her petite breasts.

Her fingers finally found her inner thigh and brushed her labia almost fearfully. The tight cleft was sodden with free flowing desire, the light contact sent jolts of arousal coursing through her body.

Blitz had self-diagnosed herself as a nymphomaniac in high school. She wasn't sure how nymphomania actually worked or how it was supposed to feel, but she was quite sure this was pretty close.

Her parents had caught on pretty quick that their daughter was gratifying herself with her fingers and pretty much anything else phallic shaped almost every night. And as parents would do, they worried about teenage boys taking advantage. Now they couldn't afford fancy doctors and diagnostic medicine to find out why their daughter was so ravenous, so they went with a more holistic remedy.

For her fifteenth birthday they didn't buy her the new iPhone or a laptop. They gave her a rabbit vibrator, and to this day it was Blitz's most precious possession.

Turning her head to one side she observed the bomb crater that was her room. Bits of scav, shreds of clothes she owned and various pieces of tactical gear she'd picked up along the way littered the ground and furniture. There were boxes of loose ammo and spare magazines in the mix, and somewhere among the minefield was the vibrator. It seemed miles away and despite her energy, Blitz couldn't find the bother to roll out of bed to find it. It wouldn't do her any good anyway. The batteries had gone flat weeks ago and with replacement cells or rechargeables reserved for more important gear Da Cubz needed for survival, Blitz had herself a vibrator that didn't vibrate. It was like a bad joke.

Desperately the girl spread her nimble legs until they were flush with the mattress she lay on. Then one hand holding up the duvet so it wouldn't get any damper than it already was she threw her opposite fingers into her cleft. The soft, swollen flesh parted eagerly and Blitz gasped at the sudden violence of her own actions. Desperation fed her rhythm and before long she abandoned all care for keeping her sheets clean. The index and middle finger of her right hand plunged deeply into her sodden tunnel while the other traced vigorous circles across her clit. The little nub of sensitive flesh lit up with ecstatic bolts to lightning that jolted her to her core. Her muscles clenched and...

Nothing.

Blitz pressed harder. She thrust her fingers faster. The sopping noise of her arousal and frustration doubled and left a growing wet patch on her bedsheets. But she teetered on that cusp of gratification. The lightning bolts of pleasure didn't drive deep enough and for all her effort she couldn't make it over that summit of ecstasy. She crashed, tumbling back down the slope. And soon all she was doing was fuelling her lust. Her arousal only grew and she was left unsated. Unsatisfied.

She moaned with frustration and withdrew her hands, kicking violently at her duvet. No matter what she tried, with her fingers or her dead vibrator, nothing was the same as taking to bed with a lover.

That's exactly what she needed. Third party intervention. She had to be surprised. She could only get herself so far on her own. She needed someone, or something, else to help her go the full way.

She rolled out of bed and found some panties before practically running to where her rifle stood against the wall. She roughly tore the scope off and opened the battery compartment. The battle scope she used could illuminate the crosshairs, however the battery was one of those flat coin-shaped CRC batteries, completely different from the triple-A cells she needed for her vibrator.

With frustration she threw the scope one way, the battery another and sat heavily on the edge of her bed. Putting her head between her knees she raked her fingers through her hair, practically pulling strands out of her scalp.

Why did Slick have to be so fucking stupid, she thought. Why is Buster being such a fascist?

Pulling on some clothes, Blitz figured she might try to take her mind of her heat. Already it seemed easier said than done, because when she shrugged on her tac-vest and zipped it up, the metal shutter acting as her bedroom door retracted and revealed a figure just outside.

Standing in the doorway was the source of this turmoil. Had he not been an asshole she wouldn't be tortured by her own body this way.

But at the same time Slick was the most glorious thing she'd seen. She wasn't going to let him know that though and resisted the urge to jump his bones right there and then. She wondered with a pang of fear if he could smell her knuckle-deep recon in her own excited folds. Thankfully the human sense of smell wasn't sensitive enough. And if he could smell her perpetual arousal he didn't seem to show it.

Leaning on the doorpost, Slick stirred the contents of a fruit can with a fork. He looked ready to operate in his usual tactical outfit and kept his rifle slung by his side. He also looked to be wearing an olive-green tac-vest and a matching FAST-helmet like what Buster usually wore. Slick never decked out in armour, and Blitz wondered if something happened in yesterday's patrol that spooked him.

"Mornin'," he said casually before chomping on a syrupy pear. "You look like shit."

Blitz huffed. "That's okay, because you look like a shit. What do you want, Slick?"

"We're heading up to Callie's settlement," Slick explained. "Buster wants you ready to go in a few hours so pack your gear."

He pushed off the doorpost to leave.

"That's it?"

He shrugged. "That's it."

Blitz pouted. "And there's nothing else you want to say to me?"

Slick thought for a second, then nodded as he left. "Yeah. Stop being such a girl. C'mon. Your friends need you."

She didn't know entirely what he meant with that. Was he assuming they were still friends? Were they? Blitz hadn't thought about it that hard. Slick had betrayed her, essentially. And what for? Because Buster expected it of him?

Slick wasn't a drone, but sometimes he was just so...

Clenching her fists and throwing some wild punches at the air, Blitz almost screamed with frustration. She wanted to run over and kiss him so he'd stop being so oblivious about what she was pissed off at him for, but at the same time she wanted to punch him in his stupid face.

"Slick!" Blitz called out, and the human boy doubled back casually. She almost told him. She almost just blurted out that she was pissed at him because he fouled up her chance to show him how she felt about him.

She wanted to fuck him, plain and simple. But telling him turned out to be not so simple at all. She choked silently, then with a shake of her head changed the subject.

"Suture told me that before the Thirteen-Hour War, you and Buster hated each other. Is that true?"

Slick seemed to think about it for a second, then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess it is."

"So why are you always blindly following his lead now?"

Slick shrugged again. "We weren't fighting for survival back then." He left it at that then took his leave.

Even Blitz admitted that was a good reason. She'd never tell him that though. Especially not today, since it seemed she was going to have to keep up the guise that she was pissed off at him, while at the same time really wanting to shove his fingers inside her.

With a sexually frustrated sigh she picked up her rifle then went searching for the scope batteries she'd flung across the room.

~~~~

Had anyone asked her before the 13-Hour War what she wanted to be when she grew up, Suture never would have even considered answering 'doctor.' She hated bodily functions and got queasy at the tiniest glimpse of blood.

Now she was surrounded by petri-dishes, test vials and soiled bandages covered in the stuff. She was even taking a closer look, staring into her microscope as the various blood cells in the petri-dish swam about. Among the red dots she could make out the glimmer of metal. Zooming in she focused on the nanovirus floating around in the sample of her own blood.

It was a fresh sample, the prick on her finger still throbbed and ten seconds ago there wasn't a sign of the nanovirus floating among the red blood cells. Now though the tiny machines were swarming all over the blood like it was the fountain of youth.

Seconds later though they were overwhelmed by white blood-cells and eradicated out of space and time.

Pulling her eyes away from the microscope, the canine flipped some of her golden hair from her face and scribbled some cryptic notes into her notepad. She had half a thesis on the nanovirus the Federation had used to pacify Terra during the 13-Hour War. What she knew was limited, but revealing none the less.

It was some sort of intelligent synthetic virus that targeted pretty much anyone over the age of eighteen. She had seen evidence in the field of some under-eighteens fatalities, but it was unclear if that was accidental death as a result of panic during the invasion, or if the Fed nanovirus was to blame.

Another thing she knew was that the nanovirus was still airborne and active, as her recent check verified. The air was thick with the critters. But what seemed to be stopping them from killing any terran who progressed past the age of eighteen was an immunity, probably developed shortly after initial exposure.

That was a relaxing but also panic inducing factor to learn. Suture wasn't sure, but she figured the Feds could just as well re-program the nanovirus to butcher all of Da Cubz at any time. And not knowing for sure was pretty scary.

Studying the nanovirus wasn't all she did in her downtime between wiping away snivels and plugging bullet holes in Cubz. The far wall was adorned with notes and diagrams of several live tranq darts Buster and his teams had recovered from the surface. Suture had spent a good deal of her time studying them and trying to come up with a way of immunising Da Cubz against the Federation's primary way of subduing them all. 'Chemical armour' she called it. But aside from a cool name she didn't have anything else to show for her studies. It was very much still a work in progress.

Who could blame her for taking so long though. Most people would spend practically a lifetime in study before participating in live pharmaceutical trials. Suture had blitzed through the subject with a twelve-month self-study crash-course. And even then half the science was still foreign to her.

As Suture was scribbling and doodling, the infirmary door swung open. She glanced over her shoulder to see Buster walk in, disregarding her rule about guns and food in the infirmary as per usual.

Chowing down on a protein breakfast bar, the tiger spoke with his mouth full.

"Suture. We're heading to Callie's Settlement in a few hours. Pack your gear and be ready to go."

"I have work here, Buster." Then she added, "And it's rude to talk with your mouth full."

"Whatever, mom. Finish your notes. You'll have work at Callie's slice of heaven too. I need you to talk to her midwives. Learn what you can. Take the full crash course if you have to."

Suture stopped everything she was doing and swivelled around in her chair, eyes wide. "Why?"

Buster scoffed as if the answer should have been obvious. "Well if we're going to let the older Cubz romp about there's bound to be a pregnancy or two."

At first Suture couldn't believe her ears. They twitched and rotated to focus in on Buster's words. "Are you serious? You're rescinding the sex rules?"

The tiger pointed at his head. "Does this look like my joking face?" Buster left the infirmary, calling back casually as he did, "You wanted this. You can deal with the fallout."

Suture was stunned. Suddenly everything she had noted about the nanovirus was gone from her brain. The ideas she had about coming up with a vaccination to the Fed tranq darts evaporated. All that she could do was smile.

Jumping from her stool she snatched up her bag and packed everything she thought she would need as quickly as possible.

~~~~

Skirra National Park wasn't necessarily a park. A park was a relatively flat piece of green surrounded by urban development. It was the kind of place that was easy to navigate and, if need be, escape.

Skirra National Park was more like a nature reserve. Over a hundred kilometres of forest and mountain etched with fire-breaks and winding paths that made the area look like a Jackson Pollock painting from the sky. It was the kind of wilderness in which hikers went missing, forcing a community to go out with a search party, only to lose several members of the search party.

The road over which Da Cubz drove was suitably under-developed for such a wildland, mostly covered in pine needles with only a few patches of gravel that had not washed away over years of neglect.

Suture had to be fair to Buster, he was driving as slowly as physically possible, but the truck still rocked violently from side to side.

"Will you take it easy on the potholes please?" the young woman said, grabbing hold of the dashboard as the suspension made a metallic grinding noise.

Slick stuck his head through the window in the back of the cabin. "Would her highness like to trade seats?"

Suture glanced back to where Slick sat in the back with an ammo box for a seat and reconsidered how bad she had it. "No thanks, I'm good."

Pulling back and shutting the window, Slick braced himself as they rolled over another cluster of exposed roots. The forest path was more designed to be traversed on foot rather than by car. The fact they had a 4x4 pickup made it possible for them to drive right up to Callie's front door, sure. But it did nothing for the comfort of Da Cubz sitting in the back.

Grabbing hold of the metal bracket that affixed an M249 machine gun to the roof of the truck, Slick caught himself before he was flung overboard. Just beside him, wedging herself between their cargo and the back of the cabin, Blitz made herself as comfortable as possible. The plethora of bottles with alcoholic beverages sloshing inside rattled and clinked over every bump and through every pothole. Progress was rather slow as they crawled at a mere ten kilometres-per-hour, but at least they didn't have to mule a hundred litres of wine, beer and whiskey on their own backs.

Behind them the second pickup truck in the convoy was only half loaded with the booze they had scavenged from Monster Mart. Pester, Stitch and several other boys rode in that one at a similar snail's pace, bracing themselves as best they could as the truck rocked up the goat-path.

"How much further?" Pester called up, bracing himself on his jury rigged machine gun.

Half turning, Slick just held up a hand with one finger erected. One minute. Slick had made this run plenty of times with Buster. Though on those occasions they were just trading little bits so they could afford to make the trip on mountain bikes, to which the path was much more accessible.

Not to mention it made the run a lot more stealthy. Trucks made noise and they output a serious thermal signature. Every few kilometres they'd have to settle down and make sure the Feds weren't following them out to Callie's settlement.

Today Da Cubz were lucky. There had been no uninvited guests, and they made it to the gates of 'Eden' with a minimal amount of suffering.

Eden, otherwise known as Callie's settlement was set up by a girl they knew intimately as Callie shortly after Da Cubz were formed. Callie actually was a member back in the day, but broke away with her own little clique after one or two 'disagreements' with Buster and his objectives. Whereas Buster believed in the fight against the Feds, Callie always was more of a live-and-let-live kinda gal. Her idea of survival was making herself comfortable in the new world.

And make herself comfortable she certainly did with a now thriving settlement called Eden.

Eden was tucked away in the countryside, surrounded by Mother Nature and her fruits. Callie's clique had started out as foragers and hunters. Then upgraded to farming and now their surprisingly well-developed hydroponics system helped them grow enough supplies to feed all of Eden and on occasion if they had anything to trade, Da Cubz.

The settlement maintained that core Neolithic aestetic. They worked around the forest rather than the other way around. They had removed all the low hanging branches, but left the canopy in place like a natural camouflage net hiding them from the bird's-eye-view. Under the canopy of evergreen pine needles, filled out with stretches of camo netting, sat their village.

The perimeter wall was made of logs and reinforced with scrap metal that had rusted over time. The gates that were opened by a quad of muscular young guards resembled an embassy's bomb-proof entrance.

The two trucks rolled into the courtyard. The gates closed behind them again.

Inside was like the outside. Callie's peeps had built a small town in the open air, most of it suspended between the ancient, healthy trunks of the very trees that hid them from view. Their huts were simple affairs, built out of wood and scrap with straw roofs. There were covered communal areas, such as the mess hall - a large boardwalk covered by a pergola roof suspended between the trees and lit with fairy lights.

Generators providing the settlement with a little power churned away in a pit somewhere with the exhaust fumes routed off to a natural hot spring, so not to advertise their position to the Federation. There were communal showers, walled off for privacy as well as other services such as laundry and the kitchens in which everybody seemed to chip in a little.

It could have looked like a shanty or ghetto, but Eden made the aesthetic work. They had semi-modern plumbing, maintained the area well and kept their surrounds tidy. The way their gardens and crops blossomed even made it look like its biblical namesake. Compared to Da Cubz underground hovel, this place was a heavenly vision.

And the denizens of Eden were angels.

Whereas Da Cubz took in anyone who sought them out or needed help, Callie's Eden was a whole lot more vain when it came to letting in newcomers. It was the thing that stood out the most about the settlement, and the main reason Eden didn't suffer the same overcrowding problems Da Cubz's hideout did. Everyone who lived there had to be a certain level of beautiful or handsome. A rather dark downside to Eden's thriving community, limiting the population to these peculiar standards seemed to work as they were better able to ration their supplies and crops.

While it seemed to work, it of course made Buster uncomfortable whenever he was required to visit. Pester on the other hand seemed fully into it.

Sauntering towards a group of girls carrying laundry baskets, the feline smiled brightly. "Hey, ladies. Lookin' good."

The girls were dressed up to the nines like it was a normal Friday night on the town. Their high heels clicked on the red-brick path, short skirts left their slender legs on full reveal and skimpy, plunging tops were complimented with shiny jewellery around their necks and wrists. Buster went as far as recognising the designer shreds and jewels that Da Cubz had been commissioned to scavenge for Callie's people. These were not the sort to sully their hands doing a little digging of their own. But so long as Callie kept paying Da Cubz in ammo and supplies for their efforts, he wasn't going to complain out loud.

When the girls saw him they turned up their collective noses at Pester. One of them, a slender-necked giraffe, even went as far as letting out an "Ew," before they all moved away as quickly as possible.

Pester harrumphed. "Lesbians," he muttered venomously as Stitch patted him reassuringly on the back.

"Watch your mouth, Pester," Buster warned as he closed the truck door behind him. Slick jumped down beside him at the same time. "We're guests here."

Slick nudged the tiger with his elbow, nodding at two figures approaching from deeper in the settlements. "Game faces. Here comes the wicked witch of the bitch."

"What did I literally just say?" Buster sounded angry, but there was no wiping that amused grin off his face.

The hulking zebra stood out from the two, towering any of the Cubz in height as well as girth. He was a muscular anthro, ripped like a body builder and clad in a pair of tan slacks with a tight shirt that only drew attention to his ludicrous musculature. His mane was squared away and he carried an enormous nickel-plated pistol on his hip, the kind normally would advertise he was compensating for something, were he not so fucking massive himself.

With the meat-tower Da Cubz recognised as 'Moto' was the overseer herself. Callie was an anthro vixen with russet fur and a cheerleader-captain, prom-queen popular-girl-clique kind of build. Curves in all the right places, her wide hips tapering to a toned waist and her impressive bust that jiggled attractively with the long strides she took to keep up with Moto's gait.

Her dress was slim fitted with a plunging neckline that revealed the extent of the white fur formed between her breasts. Black further broke up the russet on her hands like a pair of gloves and from her mid-calf down her legs like a set of tights. Her red hair was gathered up in a perfect bun the likes of which was usually only seen on virginal brides on their big day.

Suture hopped out of the passenger side of the truck and met Callie halfway. "Hello, Callie. It's good to see you again."

Callie smiled her dazzling smile she reserved for only the most privileged Cubz, meeting Suture's embrace and kissing her on the cheek in greeting. Being about the same age they easily could have been friends before the invasion. "It's been too long, Suture. You should visit more often."

"I will do now since we might be expecting a few little ones in the future."

Buster cleared his throat obnoxiously. "Maybe. And ideally not."

Callie cocked her head at him but made no comment. Looking back to Suture she said, "Well that's fantastic news. If you need any help, anything at all, just let Tabitha know."

Finally Callie turned to spot the boys, her eyes lingering on Slick in particular. "Hello, Thomas."

Slick rolled his eyes, and not even because she called him by the name he'd discarded along with his old life. It was the look in her eyes and the husky tone of her voice that bothered him the most.

"Given my offer to stay with us any thought?" Callie asked, walking over and gently tracing a slender finger along his chin.

Slick opened his mouth and seemed about to curse in her face when Suture made a slicing gesture across her throat and Buster nudged the boy in the arm. Reminded to mind his manners, the human cleared his throat. "Um... still thinking about it, Callie."

Before the 13-Hour War they had gone to the same school, though separated by a few years. Back then Callie had never even known 'Thomas' existed. It was only when he was reborn as rebel extraordinaire 'Slick' that she seemed to suddenly have eyes for him. It was so totally obvious she decided to take notice because he turned out fair handy with a gun.

And if he ever did ditch Da Cubz and lived full time on Eden he'd probably be a guard with the most combat experience and proficiency. That and he'd also be the only human. It was no secret Callie had her racial reservations when it came to humans, which made her liking for Slick even more duplicitous.

"Suture is here to speak with your midwives, and we've got some stuff to trade," Buster announced, making Callie's towering bodyguard perk up his ears.

"Mmmm-hmmm?" Callie hummed, still looking at Slick.

"What did you bring us?" Moto demanded in his deep, rumbling accent. Buster quickly showed him the backs of the trucks piled with boxes of alcoholic beverages.

He seemed to do a quick count, struggle with the numbers then disregard the amount in favour of checking brands and labels.

"Top shelf," Moto said with an impressed nod. He then looked up at Blitz who was standing over the first load and grinned to himself. "The little cubs never cease to amaze."

Breezing past Slick with a seductive flick of her tail, Callie joined him and took the bottle Moto offered. "These wines are good years."

"I just grabbed what looked expensive," Pester admitted softly.

"We can trade," Callie said with a smile, handing the bottle back. "We just pulled in a good harvest. There's plenty to share with Da Cubz."

"We could use ammo and explosives too," Buster said.

"Help yourselves." With her hands on her hips she looked Slick up and down and her smile widened a little. "Thomas, will trade for it while you spend the night."

That caught Da Cubz by surprise and they exchanged glances.

"What do you mean I'll trade for it?" Slick began to say, but Buster cut him short.

"What do you mean stay for the night? This isn't that much to offload." The tiger indicated the crates. "We could be out of your hair in less than thirty minutes."

"Feds patrol the mountains every evening," Moto cut in, checking his Rolex. "They are many things, but tardy is not one of them. In about ten minutes the countryside will be swarming with saucers. If you're spotted on any of the paths you'll accidentally give our home away."

Slick and Buster shared an uncomfortable glance.

"But you are more than welcome to say the night. I'll go prepare the guest lodgings," Callie said. Then as she brushed past Slick she added seductively, "Except for you, Slick. I doubt you'll be getting much sleep tonight anyway."

She flashed the stunned human a wink then held out her arm to Suture who chuckled at Slick's expense. Callie then led Suture to the infirmary, the women chatting like old friends that had been separated for too long. But as his leader left, Moto hung around by Blitz's side.

"As the head of security here, I'd like to know more about some of your exploits in the city," Moto said, scooping up Blitz's hand in his own. "Perhaps I might learn a thing or two from your combat doctrine."

"That all you looking to learn from her, barcode?" Slick snarked as he walked past.

Blitz threw the human a daggers glare, then offered Moto a small smile. "I'd be happy to... show you some our more advanced combat tactics. Buster?" She looked to the tiger for permission, who shrugged lightly.

"Fine. But brevity is the soul of wit."

With Slick and Ruckus off to plunder the armoury, and Stitch and Pester tasked with offloading the booze, Blitz let Moto guide her away from the trucks. Watching them go, the duo left with doing the majority of hard labour scoffed.

"What an asshole," Pester growled after Moto.

"Man's a sausage," Stitch agreed.

~~~~

Callie's pretty peeps had amassed themselves a rather decent stockpile of military grade ammunition, parts, spare magazines and various toys that made loud noises. Walking among the shelves of their armoury, his own rifle slung across his back and his arms loaded with ammo boxes, he eyes a variety of belt-fed machine guns with a low whistle.

He focused on the matter at hand though. They needed 5.56mm and 7.62mm armour piercing rounds almost exclusively. Anything else was practically a waste against the Fed synths.

One thing did take his fancy though, and putting down the ammo boxes in the pile of explosives and bullets he planned to haul out to re-stock Da Cubz's supplies, Slick doubled back to a rack of pistols. He picked up a polymer FN Five Seven in particular and weighed it in his hand. The grip felt a little bulkier than what he was used to, and it was barrel-heavy.

At least until he found one of the magazines that went with the weapon. Again, a little larger than he was typically used to, but it was immediately evident as to why. The mag was loaded with a funky calibre, pointed 5.7x28mm bullets. Like a slightly downsized version of the bullets he ran through his AR-15.

He slid the mag into place then cycled the weapon by racking the slide. He weighed it again.

Perfect.

Glancing about suspiciously, Slick tucked the weapon into his pistol holster and retrieved a few fully loaded spare magazine on the sly, as well as a few dozen boxes of 5.7mm bullets to add to the stores at home.

Slick bagged what he'd found thus far in a large, nearly overloaded duffel, then went to peruse the selection of shotgun shells when a voice cut across the dimly lit concrete bunker.

"Slick! Take a look at this."

Slick sighed, eying a box of shotgun shells that promised an explosive, fiery load. "I'm kinda busy, man."

"Seriously. Come look. You will shit."

Rolling his eyes, Slick abandoned his shopping list and moved to the back of the armoury to find Ruckus.

"I doubt that, I had an MRE for-..." he stopped abruptly when he found the gecko knelt by something that looked absolutely terrifying, but at the same time explosively cool.

It was the very visage of an object associated with warheads. The top conical section usually affixed to a rocket, this warhead was set upon a metal rack so it could be more easily - and more carefully - be wheeled about. Additionally, it was marked with numerous serial numbers and the Skirra flag.

Knelt beside the device that like the 'dragon's breath' shells Slick had been eying before promised mushroom clouds, knelt a boy Slick's age. Ruckus was a noodle-limbed gecko with bright green scales. Despite his small build though, he wore what seemed to be a hefty flak-jacket and a helmet with a pull-down blast visor like your average bomb-disposal dude would wear. Slung across his back was an equally disproportionate weapon or him, a bulky AA-12 fully automatic shotgun that fired pop-rockets rather than traditional slugs.

Ruckus was their resident firebug, an expert in all things that went 'boom.'

"What is that?" Slick asked, pointing at the cone. As he asked though, part of him knew already what Ruckus was going to answer.

"That my friend, is a thermo-nuclear warhead."

Despite expecting that answer, Slick's inner critic scoffed. "How can you tell?"

"Wisdom, awesomeness, and the fact that it says 'thermo-nuclear warhead' on the lid."

Slick checked. It indeed did say 'thermo-nuclear warhead' on the lid. Albeit something to that effect. He still wore an impressed expression.

"Where did Callie even get this?"

"If you ask me-..." Ruckus began to say.

"I am asking you, dude."

Ruckus pouted angrily before he answered. "The Feds own the military base on the southern coast of Skirra. The only place this could have come from was from the missile silo down there. And the only ones with the gear to get in there and pilfer this kind of explosive goodness would be the Feds. You want my opinion? I think Callie got this from the Feds. She must have traded them for it."

As impossible as it may have sounded, there was something to Ruckus' logic.

The human frowned disbelievingly though. "What the hell could Callie possibly have that the Feds would want?"

It was funny Slick would ask that. At the same time on the other side of Eden, Suture walked into the infirmary and spotted the settlement's midwife immediately.

Tabitha didn't look like the mind-eye's initial interpretation of what a midwife would look like, primarily thanks to the fact that she had a very similar story to Suture's. Tabitha was a curvy anthro mare, a bit younger than Suture, with pearly white fur and long white-blonde hair; not the type of young woman you'd expect to go delving elbow-deep in bodily fluids. But she was at that moment in time the most proficient midwife on Skirra, with little under a dozen healthy newborns delivered.

Of course, much of that could be attributed to luck, but in the end while Suture had more experience in the ground of applying field dressings and emergency field surgery, Tabitha had leagues more experience than her in the area of childbirth.

The two were on a first name basis, having exchanged notes and healing methods on plenty of other occasions, but this would mark the first time

Looking about the empty infirmary, Suture did note the lack of crying, which was a stark contrast to Suture's previous visit to Eden.

"Hi Tabitha."

The mare turned to face her and smiled warmly, embracing the other young woman. "Suture, so good to see you again."

"Its very quiet here. Did the babies get moved? You finally finished that creche then?"

To Suture's surprise, Tabitha gave a heavy frown. "Babies? What babies?"

Holding on to her smile the canine chuckled. "The babies. The newborns. They can't be more than a few months old."

"Suture, we don't have any babies here. We don't have a need for a creche either. Callie decreed having youngsters in Eden would cause too much trouble."

Suture stared for a long minute, then her smile faded and her eyes hardened. "Tabitha, stop it. I was here when they were born. It was only a few months ago. I helped with the health checks. I was here for one of the births. Slick nearly fainted and had to run out of the room!"

Tabitha's expression hardened equally. "I don't know what to tell you, Suture. Everyone in Eden is sixteen or older."

There was a far off calling of her name that caught Tabitha's attention. Her ears twitched and she looked for the source of the call before regarding Suture one last time.

"Stay here, Suture. I'll be back in a second, then we can talk about this confusion you're experiencing."

As Tabitha left, Suture fumed with silent frustration. Confusion, she thought angrily. She knew for a fact that she was not confused. She had held one of those babies moments after birth herself. Suture remembered vividly expecting to vomit, only to instead be in total awe at the surreal miracle of life that landed in her arms!

Something like that was hard to be confused about.

A timid little voice put out the fire under her though. Whirling sharply she saw a young stringbean of a rabbit girl. She couldn't have been older than eighteen, and Suture recognised the green eyes and grey fur immediately.

It was Hope, the very girl whose baby Suture had helped deliver. She was looking relatively well, having trimmed off much of the weight she'd put on during her pregnancy. Her bust was still slightly more swollen than normally, and she wore one of the maternity dresses Suture had sent Buster and Slick out to scavenge specifically.

But the bright vibrant girl Suture had seen coddling and cooing with her newborn bunny was gone. In her stead stood a depressed young woman, tired bags under her eyes, posture wilted and eyes red like she'd been crying so hard she'd finally run out of tears.

"Hope?" Suture asked.

Realising the canine recognised her, the rabbit sprang forward with sudden enthusiasm, clutching Suture's hands tightly in her own. "Suture. I thought I heard your voice. I didn't believe it at first but..." she whimpered, then glanced about the infirmary as if checking they were alone. "Can you take me with you? Can I stay with you and Buster? Please, will you take me?"

The question startled Suture, but she nodded never the less. "O-of course, if that's what you want. But why? This place is doing amazing."

"No, no it isn't. we have to leave as soon as possible."

Suture gently reached forward and took the girl's face in a bid to calm her down. "Why? What's wrong?"

The rabbit's large eyes flitted from side to side, then resolved back on Suture with abject terror. Her voice was barely above a harsh whisper, and Suture could feel the poor girl was trembling uncontrollably.

"We're in terrible danger..."

~~~~

Pester dropped a crate of vegetables on the truck, making Buster wince from where he supervised.

"Damn it, Pester. Would you take it easy?"

"Gimme a break, dude."

"I'mma break your fucking legs if you smush those veggies before we get 'em back to base."

Flipping Buster a good-natured middle-finger, Pester bent down to take the next crate of greens being handed up by Stitch. Their haul was sizeable, enough fresh fruit and veg from the Eden fields to feed Da Cubz for at least a month. Throw the military rations Callie's scavvers had in emergency stores, Da Cubz were looking at freedom of their supply quandary for a good four months. Not very long in the grand scheme of things, but long enough for Buster to figure out their next move.

He hoped Ruckus and Slick were having as much luck with picking through the armoury. Ruckus knew his explosives, and Slick knew his guns. They were the best qualified to go rooting though Callie's amassed armoury for ammo and IED ingredients.

The quick pat of approaching footsteps made Buster look over his shoulder. He saw Suture crossing the yard towards him. He'd expected her to return with a big smile on her face, laden down with notes and medical paraphernalia Tabitha was ready to loan her.

Her expression was that of someone who'd seen death for the first time. Buster recognised it from a similar expression he'd worn during the 13-Hour War. On Suture's arm was a girl about his age, a grey furred bunny with a petite build. She only stood up to about his shoulder, had a slim but reasonably curvy frame and her hair cut short in a chestnut bob. Her long ears were floppy, slicked down the back of her head like her straight hair.

Buster quickly faced them as they approached. "Is something wrong?"

"She sold them," Suture blurted out quite angrily, as if Buster was supposed to know what that meant.

"Slow down. Sold what?"

"Not what!" Suture retorted irritably. "Who!"

"Suture, take a breath and start from the beginning," Buster snapped, getting stern with her now.

She did that, unsteadily, but she managed it. Realising she wasn't making any sense to Buster she calmed herself and tried again. "Buster, it's the babies. The ones born earlier this year. They're gone."

Overhearing, Pester poked into the conversation. "What? Like they just up and left?"

"No, you idiot! Callie traded them to the Feds. I don't know how, I don't know why, but she's in cahoots with the Federation and she's paying them in newborns for supplies."

Buster gaped. That was some tale. It almost seemed too dark to be true. "What the fuck? Are you sure?"

Suture nodded, introducing the girl with her. "This is Hope."

The timid rabbit nodded vigorously to confirm Suture's story. "It's true, Buster. They took my baby. Callie is trading them with the Federation."

Buster was convinced, but still confused. "That's sick! Why would she do that?"

He almost answered his own damn question. This was Callie he was talking about! This was the wicked witch of the bitch who shunned or cast out survivors of the 13-Hour War just because they weren't up to her standards of pretty!

"Nobody fucking cares," a voice interrupted.

Buster turned to see Slick and Ruckus laden down with bags of explosives and boxes of ammo, but still running like their lives depended on it. Ruckus stopped to take a breath while Slick on the other hand started unceremoniously piling his load onto one of the trucks. The bags of stuff that went boom were tossed on without much care for the contents.

"Whatever you're talking about is unimportant," Slick said quickly, climbing into the truck and taking Ruckus' haul on board. "We are leaving, right now. Plain and simple."

"Who died and made you boss?" Buster scoffed.

"More a question of who is going to die," Ruckus added, unshouldering his bulky pack and handing it up to Slick. "Callie has a fucking nuke sitting in her armoury. And there's only one person she could have gotten that from."

Buster grimaced at the news. "A Fed."

"Ten points to you. Now c'mon! The Feds are obviously in cahoots with Callie, which means they know where Eden is. We have to dip the fuck out before Callie's business partners swing by for a visit." Slick was pounding the roof of the truck as a gesture for them to go, then suddenly froze, scanning the faces present.

"Where's Blitz?"

~~~~

The ride to Eden had been torturous in its own right, sitting across from the ever-oblivious Slick, the bumpy ride sending vibrations up through her seat and the edge of an ammo box pressing through the thin fabric of her yoga pants.

Blitz was a hot and bothered mess. And now a set of powerful digits slipped past the waistband of her pants and pressed in to quench the fire of lust crackling in her sodden pussy.

Moto didn't have much of a technique other than slipping two fingers in her snatch and pumping wildly while his free hand groped the taught curves of her petite ass. That being said, his enthusiasm was enough for Blitz.

Her eyes rolled and Blitz moaned through shortening breaths. Her legs trembled under her as she held onto Moto's powerful arms just to stay on her feet. they had the privacy of Moto's hut of course, but it did little to block her small cries of ecstasy she was sure came out of this hut often. She didn't care if anyone heard her.

All she cared about was the rising orgasm. She was pulled higher, so close to the cusp of relief, closer she'd ever been since her vibrator ran out of juice. She felt it building, burning, the pressure increased and Blitz bucked her hips in preparation to gush all over Moto's sodden fingers. That hot, wet orgasm was just over the brow of the next...

Have you ever been on that cusp of sleep? About to doze off, and then be rudely awakened by a gun toting teenager decked out in tactical gear kicking the door open?

Perhaps not, but something of that equivalent happened to Blitz.

She was ready, clenching and about to squirt out a long overdue orgasm her body had been craving for weeks now... then Slick came busting in through the hut's front door. Moto's fingers slipped form her sodden snatch and she was left standing there, pants pulled down over her hips, knock-kneed and trembling with a mixture of anticipation and sudden untameable fury.

And yet Slick walked in briskly and grabbed Blitz by the arm.

"You, wash your hands," he told a bewildered Moto before the human tugged at Blitz. "You, we are leaving. C'mon."

Blitz nearly exploded. She had rather long rows of very sharp teeth and she felt the sudden urge to sink every one into Slick just for the sake of it. She furiously shook off his grip and yanked up her pants, whole body shaking with rage at this point.

"Slick," she started growling, voice picking up volume with every syllable. "If you don't get out right fucking now I'll-...!"

"Shut up. Pack your shit. We are out of here," Slick cut across her almost too calmly. "This place is dangerous and we're not staying another second. Buster and the others already bounced, but I offered to stay behind and collect your fine ass."

As he was talking, Moto moved up on Slick, a hand on that cannon affixed to his leg. "Now you listen here little cub..." he began to say.

"Motherfucker, I will shoot you in the dick!" Slick snapped suddenly. His expression alone was enough to make Moto back up a step, but the fact he levelled the muzzle of his assault rifle on the zebra's crotch was a good added effect.

Given some breathing space, Slick turned back to his friend. "Blitz, these motherfuckers are in cahoots with the Feds."

"What?"

"They've been selling babies to the Feds in return for a nuke among other supplies filling their supply closet."

Blitz shook her head, hearing but barely believing. The statement was so surreal she totally forgot her anger and the cogs started working over the possibility of terrans working some kind of deal with the Federation. Could it be done? Was it possible?

A thought skipped through her head. Why not?

"A-are you sure?"

"Ask Suture if you don't trust me. Now come on!"

Slick was many things, but Blitz new full well that dishonest was not one of those things. He'd always put the needs of his fellow Cubz ahead of anything else, and he never left his friends behind. It was part of the reason - aside from the fact she though he was hot - she followed him everywhere. Frustrated or no, she trusted Slick to watch her back, to have her best interests in the long run in mind.

Automatically she took a step away from Moto and went to follow Slick out of the hut.

She was stopped by a large hand closing around her forearm.

Moto yanked the girl back towards him, drawing a surprised gasp from Blitz. The sound made Slick whip around with his rifle shoulder. Moto drew his gun at the same time and they aimed directly at each other, safeties off and fingers touching triggers.

"I'm wearing trauma-plates, fuck-stick," Slick snarled. "You let off a shot, I drop you like a bad habit and live to see another day."

Moto chuckled. "I'd like to see your pussy-ass trauma-plates stop a fifty at point blank."

"Ready to die? Squeeze it, motherfucker. Let's go, you and me, right here and right now."

Blitz pulled at her arm, but Moto's grip was firm and he barely loosened. "Stop it! Both of you, settle the fuck down. Moto, let me go to my friends. This is probably a big misunderstanding-..."

"No!" Moto shouted, but though it seemed he was talking about Blitz, he wasn't talking _to_her. He kept his eyes fixed on Slick, watching a small bead of sweat run down the boy's face. "I put effort into wooing this fine piece of breeding stock."

Blitz's eyes widened. "What did you just call-..."

"I'm wrapping this slut around my dick,' Moto continued to say, 'one way or ano-ghagk!"

His sentence ended in a loud gagging sound as Blitz turned and clocked the zebra straight in the throat. His grip loosened on her arm and she was able to slip his grip, smoothly snatching the gun out of his hand and swinging it upward like a hammer. The butt actually made a cracking sound, and it was unclear if that was the sound of the gun's internal mechanism breaking, or one of Moto's testicles popping like grape.

He wheezed, doubling over as Slick lowered his rifle and cringed. "Sorry, dumbass. I shoulda warned you. Blitz has a temper."

Pointing at the human, Blitz said, "And don't think I'm totally done with you yet."

She then elegantly spun around and swung her fist into a tight left hook, catching Moto in the face. He was lights-out before his face made hard-contact with the floor.

"Motherfucker, say that to me again!" she shouted at his still form. "Look me in the eye and say that to me again!"

Slick rolled his eyes and grabbed his friend by the hand. "Escape now. Anger management later." He dragged her out the door, but Blitz didn't complain, instead snatching up her rifle as they went.

"Buster and the others are rolling already," Slick explained as they ran side by side, making a bee-line for the main gate. "It's our job to make sure Callie and her goons don't follow."

"Easy enough." Blitz glanced sideways at the human. "How do you know Callie traded babies to the Feds?"

"Long story," Slick began to say as they dashed around a cluster of huts.

Both slid to a halt, eyes bugged with surprise. "Uh... one I hope I live long enough to tell."

Standing in their path was Callie. On her own, not a particularly intimidating sight, especially in that dress she wore. It was the various well-dressed anthros carrying a mix-match of rifles behind her that got Slick's adrenaline going. Blitz seemed of similar mind as she took a step back, seeming ready to dash for the nearest piece of cover.

Clearing his throat, Slick did his best to look casual, hands sliding off his AR-15. "Hey, beautiful. Excited for tonight?" he tried to smile, but faltered.

Callie's serious expression didn't break and the vixen set her hands on her hips looking disappointed. "Don't 'hey, beautiful' me, Slick. You were told to stay the night. Why did Buster and Suture run?"

"Family emergency. You know how it is. Underground base full of kids. It's like total anarchy down there twenty-four-seven. But hey! You still get to entertain Blitz and myself, right? Hope you guys are cooking up a feast." He desperately turned his gaze to Blitz who looked about as stretched for ideas as he was.

As he did though, Blitz's eyes flitted downward and she saw the human very slowly slide one hand behind his back and pluck something from one of his belt-pouches. She swallowed hard, recognising the metal ball-shaped object.

"You spoke with hope, didn't you?" Callie asked bluntly.

"Uh... yeah... yeah. Sweet girl. Could have been a great mom." Slick resolved a little and Blitz saw him tighten his grip on the grenade. "I guess now we'll never know, right Callie?"

The vixen's gaze dropped a little, and Blitz saw it for the first time. Shame. The realisation made her gasp with one hand over her mouth. She didn't want to believe it when Slick rattled off his accusations in a panic. She'd only taken him half-seriously. But now that she looked Callie right in the eye?

"Oh, God. It's true? Callie, why!?"

Callie snarled. "You Cubz have never seen the bigger picture! You don't know what it takes for us to survive! What we're forced to do! You don't even know anything about the Federation! Why they're here, do you?"

Slick huffed. "Yeah, I'm sure it's all very interesting stuff. There's just one thing you're forgetting."

"What's that?" Callie asked, voice oozing with sarcasm.

Slick grinned and yanked the pin from his hidden grenade. "Hand-grenade!" he sang almost too cheerfully, flinging the grenade in Callie's direction.

The vixen and her retinue paid their guns no mind, and seeing the grenade soar in their direction Callie and her retinue screamed and scattered in a panic. By the time the grenade bounced once, the immediate area was totally clear, Slick and Blitz having dashed into the shadow of the communal eating area.

Slick slid over the top of a table and landed in a low crouch on the other side. Blitz did the same a heartbeat later, grabbing the edge and flipping the table up as cover as she landed beside the human. An instant later the grenade exploded with a deafening thump. The ground shook, Blitz was pretty sure she felt the blast in her chest cavity and there was a rattle of searing hot shrapnel embedding in the surrounding wood structures. Someone screamed, obviously tagged.

Others managed to re-orient themselves and opened fire on Da Cubz. A hail of bullets slammed into the area around them. Only one shot seemed to score a hit, re-enforcing the idea that none of these Eden plebs practiced with their guns very much.

A 7.62-round left a sizeable hole in the table between Slick and Blitz as the human rifled through his pockets.

"Now what?" Blitz asked, wondering if Slick had a plan.

Of course he had a plan, and he smiled keenly as he produced a detonator, twisting the safety key with enthusiasm reserved for a pyromaniac. "And now for the Ruckus special!"

Blitz's eyes widened, knowing exactly what that meant. "Oh, shit." The shark slapped her hands over her ears and Slick triggered the clacker.

The gunfire was halted by the three blooming explosions that ripped throughout Eden. Two more explosions followed on a delay as the buried generators went up in flame, kerosene catching and spreading an enormous fireball over the crop sheds on the far side of the settlement.

One of the charges Ruckus had snuck onto the Eden gates tore the metal obstructions off their hinges and sent them flying out into the woods. Wildfires swirled all about Eden as the blissful silence turned to cracking fires and screams of terror.

Shaking off the ringing in the centre of her head, Blitz lifted her gaze, then peeked around their scant piece of cover. The shooting had stopped, Callie's people abandoning guns in favour of buckets of water as an inferno of chaos engulfed Eden. Callie among them, bleeding from a gash in her arm was suddenly ignorant of Slick and Blitz, rather barking and pointing directions at her underlings to get the blazes under control.

The shark looked Slick who was bouncing on the spot with enthusiasm and grimaced. "You are a very scary motherfucker for enjoying this."

He patted her on the arm and gestured her to keep up. "C'mon. Let's go home."

Their exit was uncontested as everyone seemed more interested in saving their home rather than stop the duo. Slick leapt over a small fire burning where the gates had been and rushed out into the woods for cover.

As he did he looked back and slid to a halt, noting Blitz had stopped. She had her back to him, gripping her MK.14 in both hands and was looking intensely back into Eden. Quickly doubling back, Slick called out to her.

"Blitz, we've out-stayed our welcome. Let's move!"

"Hang on a sec." Her stare didn't waver for a second.

"What-..." Slick started to say, but following her gaze he suddenly understood.

Stumbling out of a burning hut came Moto. The towering zebra was shading his face from the heat of a blaze as he looked about in a daze, wide eyed and his mouth hanging open with a glazed expression.

Slick looked between the zebra stumbling about the chaos and Blitz's intense glare of hatred. "Okay. Send it."

Smirking, Blitz levelled her rifle and peered through the scope, ignoring the cracked lens where she had thrown the scope across her room in the morning's frustrations. She had a whole new set of frustration and anger to deal with, and felt it all evaporate away as she squeezed the trigger. The gunshot wasn't heard over the chaos gripping Eden, but Moto's screams of pain were very audible as his right kneecap buckled in a bloody knot underneath him.

"Fuckin' asshole," Blitz swore, then hawked and spat into the dirt.

"Feel better?"

The shark nodded and smiled. But unbeknownst to Slick, her smile held a bit more than just a friendly gesture shared between friends. "Much better. C'mon. Let's go home."

~~~~

Eden was out in the sticks, but not as far from Haven as it could have been. It only took Blitz and Slick three hours to reach the city's edge. Then after a short chow-break, they continued on into the heart of Haven and reached Cubz HQ in under an hour.

Security watch flagged them, let them in and the duo made a bee-line for Buster's operations centre.

The place was a hub of quiet activity. A server and numerous computers were set up in a corner where their resident wiz-kid hooked into the remnants of Terra's internet, browsing for contact with other resistance groups like Da Cubz across the globe. There were photographs, charts and maps pinned among the wall mounted cork-boards. Reports from scav teams and security observations were piled high in clearly labelled trays.

The centre of Buster's op-centre even housed a large map table.

One half of the table was dominated by a map of Skirra island, Haven on the jagged eastern coast circled in red. The other half of the table was home to a blown up detailed view of Haven with clearly defined blocks and streets. Some of it was a patchwork of city maps, other sections hand drawn in multi-coloured crayon of all things. But Da Cubz made do. They didn't get picky with their art-supplies.

Little yellow flags were pinned in the areas on the tac-map scavenger teams had already exhausted, red flags indicated Galactic Federation patrol routes and tactical strongholds. Finally the green flags, few and far between, marked the locations of emergency shelters, gear stashes and safe houses.

At the looks of it Buster had removed the green flag on the Skirra map representing Eden and replaced it with a red flag.

"Fitting," Slick pointed out as they entered, drawing Buster's gaze as if he hadn't been expecting to see the two again. The human then directed his eyes back to the red flag over Eden. "Callie's dark little hovel of deceit is on fire. Ruckus really knows how to start a party."

"I'll remember to give that firebug a raise," Buster joked.

"We get paid!?"

Laughing, Buster looked at Blitz who was giggling behind her hand. "How about pursuit? Were you guys followed?"

She shook her head. "Nothing to report. Unless you count the uncomfortable feeling that Callie is going to be out for revenge.

"The witch of the bitch still has a nuke," Slick suggested, but Buster shrugged casually.

"Yeah, and what the fuck is she gonna do with it? Skirra is a small place. If she sets that thing off, she's just as fucked as we are."

"Well I'm glad you'll be sleeping fine tonight."

Blitz leaned closer to Slick, muttering out the corner of her mouth, "If you have trouble sleeping you can always pay me a visit."

"Hah," Slick muttered back with a sassy gesture of his hand. "You couldn't handle none o' this, girlfriend."

That was how it had been between them the entire hike home. Suggestive jokes, playful banter and enough laughter to fill a comedy club. Buster noticed and smiled, glad things seemed to be back to normal between the human and the shark. He waved them off. They deserved their rest for a job well done.

Still, if he was considering putting Blitz back on his team, there was one thing he had to be absolutely sure of.

"Hey, are you two good?" Buster called after them.

Pausing the duo turned back then glanced at each other. Blitz grinned and nodded, letting Slick answer.

"Green and mean, dude."

Satisfied, Buster dismissed them.

Their walk back to their rooms was a quiet one. Evening meals were being taken in the food court, but the duo had already tucked into an MRE during their hike back to HQ. A few armed quick response Cubz were on casual patrol, nodding a greeting as they passed. There was a ruckus of some young cubs running and playing in the halls. One small group playing tag skittered past and Slick quickly reminded them that if one of them were to fall and die, he wasn't going to be the one to clean it up.

Blitz laughed, breaking the silence between them as they came up to the last fifty metres of corridor leading to her room.

"Listen, Slick. There's something I have to talk to you about." She paused, sheepishly wondering how she ought to continue and avoided his curious gaze. "I... I'm sorry I've been a bit of a selfish bitch lately."

That seemed to confuse him.

"I broke our friendship because I didn't respect Buster's command, nor did I respect your friendship with him."

"You didn't break our friendship," Slick assured, and she was quite glad to hear it.

"That's nice of you to say, but..."

Slick quickly held up a hand to stop her. "You can't bear all of the blame. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have ratted you out to Buster. I could have handled the situation better." He paused with a smirk. "Not sure how I could have handled it better, you being so damn hard to please and all."

They had a laugh as they halted outside her room, and Blitz tenderly bit her bottom lip. "I'm not that hard to please."

She moved with predatory automation. She had a lock on her prey, and like her non-anthro kin she sprang her trap quickly with instant efficacy. Her arms were around him before he could react, one sliding over his shoulder, her fingers clamping his neck, and the other pushing aside his rifle and wrapping around his back. Blitz's own rifle was already secured diagonally across her back, like she had planned ahead for this to happen.

And with choreographed accuracy the girl tilted her head and pressed her lips against Slick's mouth. She was careful with her teeth, the last thing she wanted him to do was shrink away with fear. Humans weren't the shark's natural prey, but she figured a mouth full of sharp serrated teeth would scare nearly anyone. And she didn't want to scare him right now. She wanted to do all sorts of other things first.

His lips were warm on hers and she inhaled sharply through her nose with a rush of ecstasy and relief. She'd waited to do this for so long. Too damn long in fact. But now she was finally going to have Slick all to herself...

Or so she thought.

Before she could get comfortable and slide her tongue across his, she felt Slick's warmth leave her, and she jerked her eyes open a little startled. The human pulled back, not forcefully, but enough to put a small gap between him and her body that so ached for his attention.

"It's okay," she assured him, seemingly sensing the cause of his hesitation. She pulled a square foil packet from her pocket. Slick didn't need three guesses to identify what it was. "Suture distributed some of the condoms this morning before we left. We can" - she bit her bottom lip again and nodded at her bed - "y'know."

At the suggestion though, Slick peeled himself from her touch entirely, making a point to avoid her smouldering and confused gaze.

"I'm sorry for this too, Blitz. I can't. You're my friend and..."

"So be my friend with benefits," she cut across him with a small laugh. "I don't need you to commit. I don't want you to move into my room or scav me flowers. I just want you to sleep with me."

"And there's someone else," Slick finished softly, almost as if ashamed.

A bomb went off in her heart, cracking it in two. Blitz was flabbergasted. "W-... what?"

How could there be someone else? No, that couldn't be. She was... well, she was Blitz! They were always side by side. They fought side by side, always chatting, hanging out and flirting. Flirting! For the two years they had been fighting the Galactic Federation together!

"Who?" she suddenly demanded a little stronger than she intended.

As Slick opened his mouth to answer, Blitz couldn't help but think; Please be gay, please be gay, please be gay. She couldn't handle the thought of her guy being swooped out from under her by another girl.

Slick shook his head as he answered though. "Is that really important?"

The shark girl gaped as if the answer to that should have been obvious. But even as she wanted to start ranting at him, Blitz calmed herself down. "No. I'm sorry. It's okay."

"You don't look okay."

She put on a very convincing smile and nodded reassuringly. "I'm fine. I'm happy for you. Surprised? Absolutely. But I'm happy. Here." Blitz reached forward, hooked open the map-pouch affixed to his chest with one finger and dropped the condom inside. "Go on," she added with a nod down the corridor, encouraging him to go to his girl.

Slick was unusually hesitant. That forced a more genuine smile out of Blitz. In a firefight he knew exactly what to do, but with stuff like this he became adorably useless. She reaffirmed him with a light punch in the shoulder.

"Go, already! I wanna guess who she is by her screams of ecstasy tonight, okay?"

The human managed a little chuckle, then nodded. Turning he walked away a little awkwardly. Blitz watched him until he turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

When he was gone she turned into her room and walked to her bed to get a good night's sleep. However, she only made it halfway when she collapsed into a foetal position, howling as the tears exploded from her eyes...

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