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Unity

By Mantrid Brizon

Episode Thirty-Six: Penance

Rolling over in bed, a sleepy Draiman feels the friction as his flesh rubs against his wife's. Turning to face her, he inadvertently buries his nose between her ample bust. He smells the sweet aroma of her feminine form. Feeling him stirring, Corova's grip tightens, her arm wrapped around her husband’s smaller, human body. She pulls him in, sighing with delight as she rests her chin atop his head. The couple often spend their mornings snuggling, sometimes long past when they should be preparing for their work assignments, and today is no different.

“I love you, Draiman.” He hears in his mind. “We both love you.”

Tilting his head back, he gazes into the ruby eyes of his Kanorakus bride, framed by her charcoal black and crimson swirled hide. It warms his heart every time she reminds him that she's carrying his child.

“I love you, too, babe. Both of you.” He telepathically replies.

Resting a hand gently over her belly, which has yet to begin showing her hybridized cargo, he coils his fingers and tickles her flesh. Giggling, she leans in and the pair share a kiss. Chirp, chirp, chirp, a familiar sound interrupts them.

“Ugh... Are we late again?” She asks him.

“Who cares. I'm comfortable right here.”

“So am I.” She hugs him even tighter.

Ignoring the call, the pair resume their affection, only for the device to call out to them once more. Chirp, chirp, chirp.

“Fucking hell... Maybe I should check it.” Draiman grumbles.

“Are you asking?” Corova flashes a sinister grin.

Looking into her eyes, Draiman knows just how to answer her. With a firm push, the smaller, weaker human rolls his Kanorakus bride onto her back and mounts her. At six-feet and three-inches-tall, she's nearly a head higher than him, but he doesn't let that stop him; his dominance is partly what drew Corova to love him to begin with. With his hands on her shoulders, her breasts sway and bounce as he uses her to hold himself up. She looks down, seeing his endowed but flaccid manhood resting along her groin and lower belly, her long, tapering tail swaying between both of their legs.

“I'm going to answer that, and you’re going wait here.” He sternly orders.

“Mmm-yes sir.” She coos, swiftly becoming aroused.

Leaning in, he steals a kiss from her, making her open her jaw so that his tongue can overpower and entwine around hers. After the kiss, he rises from the bed, picking up his V.I. bracelet from the charging base. Chirp, chirp, chirp! It's not a call from his work assignment, but from Friden, one of the men from the refugee faction. While Draiman and Corova share a leadership role, Friden is as close to a right-hand man as they have.

“Hey, Friden. This better be important.” Draiman answers.

“It is! I've been keeping tabs on the Dezonians, like you said!” Friden excitedly exclaims.

“Is that what I said?”

“That's what I thought you meant.”

Draiman and Corova have done everything in their power to subdue the rebellious refugees. Many have learned to adapt to their long-term but temporary environment, all of them voting to carry out the mission so that they have a chance to return home. However, there has always been, and probably always will be, a level of resentment, for Unity's original crew and the Dezonians who've kept them there. In order to channel that resentment, Draiman and Corova, at August’s suggestion, have been giving the angriest among them a range of meaningless tasks, busywork to keep them occupied and from causing trouble. Weeks of vague and indirect orders have kept them from creating problems for the crew, which is exactly what they wanted.

“Anyway, since they're down to the fifth engine, and you haven't ordered an attack, I did that for you.” Friden continues.

“You WHAT?!” Draiman gasps.

A horrified Corova sits upright, her expression matching her furious husband.

“I figured you’d want to know before they got back to me with the results.”

“I don’t believe this...” Draiman murmurs.

“What? ... Isn't that why we were bothering with all of that spy stuff?”

“Er... I was going to come up with a plan when I was ready! What the fuck are you thinking just ordering an attack without consulting me?!” Draiman growls.

“It'll be fine! I've told Moody and the team he put together to attack when the Dezonian was being transported.”

“What, like out in the open?!” Corova demands.

“... Yeah.” Friden quietly replies.

“Are you f-... Some innocent bystander could be caught in the crossfire!” She yells.

“There are crew and other refugees wandering around who could get hurt you dumbfuck! ... Stop them!” Draiman growls.

“I-I can't. I had them take off their V.I. bracelets so they couldn't be tracked, and they left a long time ago. They're actively following the Dezonian and its escorts right now, and I have no idea where that is. This was sort of a courtesy call.”

“Son of a bitch.”

Draiman swiftly ends the call, struggling to select August from his list of contacts as he tries to pull up his underwear. Corova leaps from their bed, pulling up her panties and collecting their clothes as her husband’s bracelet tries to connect. Chirp, chirp, chirp.

“Please, man...”

Chirp, chirp, chip.

“Damnit, answer!”

Walking through the narrow streets of Unity’s first tier, Drayusa keeps her eyes peeled, scanning the road ahead for any potential threats. Soldiers, both men and women, and comprised entirely of Kanorakus warriors, march behind her. Making their way toward Engine Pod Five to perform the last maintenance check of the month, this would’ve been Fizona’s turn to guard the Dezonian engineer, but Miss Ayanda has abruptly pulled her from all field work. Covering for her associate and friend, Drayusa is eager to finish her assignment and return home, to spend time with her husband.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to join you, babe?” Stefan speaks to her in her mind.

“I’m sure. As much as I’d love that, Miss Ayanda probably wouldn’t like it. You’re off-duty, today, which makes you a civilian.”

“Oh! That means you could arrest me! I know how much you love those handcuffs.” He teases.

Drayusa can’t help but giggle aloud as she carries on their telepathic conversation.

“You’re making me laugh in front of my team! Just you wait. When I get home, I’ll have to punish you.” She coos.

Turning a corner, Drayusa and her team lead the Dezonian toward a park. Built like a massive sandbox, sunk beneath the floor paneling and lined with small pipes for irrigation, each tier has an indoor park, complete with nearly a foot of dirt, actual grass and some live trees. Genetically altered, these trees look like those commonly found on all three of the primary planets, Earth, Ir, and Kanor. They can survive on the artificial light provided by the overhead screens, which project the digital sun and sky. Pre-grown for the journey, some are already quite tall.

Sitting on a park bench, August leans back, an arm outstretched and draped over Annette’s shoulders. He gives the cheek of his white, bunny girlfriend a kiss, nuzzling her softly. Meanwhile, Roku and Draz play a short distance away, the little Skahlzunian swinging from a tall branch of a tree as the blonde haired, white tigress reaches out for him. Also given the day off, as there’s little need for such heightened security these days, his other skills are currently being vetted; soon, he’ll have a work assignment to keep him occupied when his primary talents aren’t needed.

“August! Play!” Draz chirps, hanging from the branch.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” August chuckles.

“Play!” Draz insists.

“You’d better take over. I’ll have to get back to the office soon.” Roku reminds her brother.

“Oh, alright!” He feigns a frustrated sigh.

“YAAA!!!”

Taking his arm away from his lover, he gives her another quick kiss before letting his black claws weave through her dyed pink hair. Walking across the grass, he pauses, turning his head to watch as Drayusa and her team escort the Dezonian toward the tram station, just beyond the park. Draz drops down from the tree, scampering toward August and standing beside him. Roku soon joins them, watching the entourage.

“Bug scary.” Draz remarks.

“I never did like those Dezonians... They’re so freaky.” Roku remarks.

“Well, without them, we’d never have advanced enough to discover the Kanorakus or the Skahlzunians.” He remarks, petting Draz’s head.

“Yeah... Doesn’t mean I have to like them, though.” She retorts.

“True!”

Turning her purple eyes toward them, Drayusa nods her head and waves to her off-duty associate and his little family. Lifting a hand, he waves back, only for Draz to leap onto his back and join him, bracing himself against August’s outstretched arm. Jumping from August’s shoulders, Draz races back toward the tree, quickly climbing the trunk with his claws and making his way into the branches. Following along at a slow but comfortable pace, August and Roku head for the tree, while Annette is content to sit and watch.

“So, when do you have to return to work?” He asks his sister.

“Honestly, I should probably head back to the office in a few minutes.”

“All work and no play makes Roku a dull girl.”

“Well, someone has to make sure my crew don’t fall asleep at their desks or leave typos on the requisition reply forms.” She chuckles.

“It wasn’t all that long ago, it seems, that we were teenagers doing everything we could to avoid each other aboard the Azilian... How things change.”

“Trust me. When we hit a hundred and twenty, you’ll be thoroughly sick of me all over again.” She quips.

“You and your horde of children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.” He laughs.

“We can only hope.”

Lifting his arms, August holds out his hands to Draz, who moves across a thick branch like a Rhesus Macaque.

“How busy can it be at your office, anyway?”

A crack suddenly startles the pair, and wood shards pepper the brother and sister. Grabbing hold of Roku and forcing her to the ground, August reaches for his sidearm, only to be horrified when he finds that he isn’t armed. The familiar whizzing of blaster bolts surrounds them and they can hear men and women shouting. Crawling away from the fray, the duo take cover behind another tree, with a much thicker trunk and away from the line of fire. Closer to the park bench, Annette has already sequestered herself behind this same tree, motioning for the pair to move faster. Sitting on the grass and huddling together, August looks toward the street.

Moving through the park and taking cover, a metal shard dings off of Drayusa’s specially designed armor, startling her and causing her to drop to her knees and then her belly. Some of her troops whisk the Dezonian away, racing for the tram station, while the others cover Drayusa, who fires back at the unknown attackers. Leaning around the edge of the tree, the defenseless August is only able to take a quick glance before pulling back. He doesn’t want his blonde hair, or the white and black striped fur, which clashes so wonderfully with the rich bark of the tree, to give away his position; he could easily be mistaken for a combatant.

A group of Solakus, both human and Voeldahn, though primarily Voeldahn, have engaged Drayusa’s team, in a clear attempt to murder the Dezonian engineer. Moving through the park, the ragtag group appear to be refugees, as August recognizes several of them. A human with tanned-skin drops, struck by several blaster rounds. Two females die alongside him, and the assailants begin to panic. With her team breaking away from her, some flank left and others flank right, swiftly encircling the would-be assassins. As they flee, some of Drayusa’s group emerge from behind them, having run around the park and waited for a lull in the skirmish.

Taking the remaining rebels hostage, they are swiftly disarmed, and August is quick to dart out from behind his cover. Followed by Roku and Annette, he races toward Drayusa, who checks a dent and a gouge in her armor. Clearly distressed, she takes a deep breath to calm her frazzled nerves, made easier by Stefan, who speaks in her mind, assuring her of her safety. It’s easier to believe him when she can see from his perspective, watching him frantically gathering his own weapon and armor to join her; his off-duty status won’t stop him from protecting his wife.

“Are you alright?!” A voice calls out to her.

“Huh?” She turns to the speaker.

“I asked if you were alright.” Roku repeats herself.

“Yeah... I’m alright.” Drayusa nods.

“What just happened?” August asks.

“I’m not sure. They attacked from the rear, as we were nearly past the park. They must’ve been following from a distance, or hiding where we couldn’t see them.” She answers.

“There are a lot of places to hide here.” He agrees.

“Speaking of hiding, where’s Draz?” Annette suddenly interjects.

“Probably in a tree. Let’s find him.” August replies.

With her team returning to her, Drayusa collects the hostages and places a call on her V.I. bracelet, eager to inform Miss Ayanda of the attack. Meanwhile, August, Roku and Annette begin to search for the little Skahlzunian.

“Draz?! You can come out now!”

“Hey, Draz?! Where are you?!”

Walking around the trunk of the tree where he was previously playing, August stops in his tracks. Lying in the grass is Draz, unmoving and unresponsive. Turning his eyes toward the tree, he can see some blood on the leaves, broken branches marking the spot from where he’d fallen. He drops to his knees, ignoring the women who call out to him. They gasp, and Roku begins to cry at the pitiful sight. Kneeling over Draz’s little body, the blood pooling beneath him, August’s V.I. bracelet begins to chirp. Overcome with grief, he ignores the call, extending a hand and closing Draz’s eyes with his fingertips.

“Oh, God... I’m so sorry, Draz.”

Scooping the alien into his arms, his limp body curls, his limbs and head flopping back and making the task all the more difficult both physically and emotionally. He returns to Drayusa, who’s busy with a call. Upon hearing the sobbing voices, the black and purple Kanorakus glances over her shoulder, pausing mid-sentence when she sees August’s companion dead in his arms.

“I can take the prisoners with us and drop them off on th-... Oh no.”

“... Drayusa? Hello?!” Miss Ayanda’s voice calls out.

“They killed Draz...” She murmurs.

“What?! August is there?!” Miss Ayanda gasps.

“I’ll call you back.”

Ending the call, Drayusa rests a hand on August’s shoulder, her gentle pressure subtly guiding him away from the bound men and women responsible for the attack. He cannot help but glare as one of the rebels watches him, the man’s eyes trained on the Skahlzunian. He shows no pity or remorse, but a morbid curiosity. Kneeling down, August lays out Draz’s body, softly whispering a goodbye to his childlike companion. Roku kneels across from him, crying for the creature, whom she watched and played with as if he were a human or Voeldahn child.

No sooner than Annette rests her hand upon August’s shoulder, hoping to give him a modicum of comfort, he bolts up from the ground. Drayusa and Annette turn their heads, watching as he storms up to the rebel, whose eyes still follow him. Without warning, August kicks him in the shoulder blade, forcing him to the ground. With his hands cuffed behind his back, August rolls the man over, punching him in the face over and over again. One of Drayusa’s soldiers races up to stop him, only for Drayusa to shut him down; she gives August a brief moment to vent his anger in the only way he can.

After nearly a full minute, beating the handcuffed man until he spat out several teeth, August slows his assault, his hand shaking and cut knuckles bleeding. He drops the man onto the ground, stepping back and away from him.

“It’ll be alright.” Drayusa assures him.

“Come on. Let’s take care of your hand.” Annette says, slipping an arm around him.

Looking back, Drayusa watches Roku for a moment, seeing her cry over the blue and yellow alien as if he were her own child. With Stefan’s voice in her head, she shakes off the weight of her guilt, anger and pity, returning to the mission. Lifting her wrist, she presses a button. With her bracelet temporarily linked to those of her teammates, they react similarly to conventional two-way radios used by the police and militaries of Sol.

“Is the asset safe at Bravo location?” She asks.

“Affirmative! The asset is safe and the tram is here.” An underling replies.

“Good... Keep going. Rush the delivery; I’ll send reinforcements, but we won’t be joining you.” Drayusa orders.

“Understood!”

Sitting in her office, Miss Ayanda taps her crimson claws against the top of her wooden desk. With a loose fist held before her snout, she stares at her V.I. bracelet, her ruby orbs focusing on the device. Sitting across from her, Fizona and Kellan, the only two in the office with her when she received the initial call, wait eagerly for news. Chirp, chirp! Miss Ayanda jumps, swiftly bringing her hand from her desk and answering before the third ring.

“Yes?!”

“I’m sorry about earlier.” Drayusa begins.

“It’s alright. Finish your report. What’s going on?”

“I’m rushing the asset to the objective. My team will need reinforcements; I’m personally leading three people to the prison. One is... A little banged up.”

“I’ll contact Sihl’Ahzen and have her send people to support your team. What about August?!” Miss Ayanda presses her.

“He’s fine... Er... Well, he will be. No casualties on our end, except for Draz. Three rebels are dead.” Drayusa answers.

“Alright... I’ll dispatch some maintenance droids to take care of their bodies. Watch the site until they arrive for the cleanup, then you can take the rebels to the prison. Drop them off and then rendezvous with your team. Keep Sihl’s people with you until you return the asset to tier nine. Finish this as quickly and safely as possible.”

“Understood.”

Miss Ayanda ends the call, and without missing a beat, swiftly contacts Madrid. With witnesses in the room, she opts for audio-only. Answering her call in short order, he sounds pleased to hear from her, though his tone changes as soon as he realizes that this isn’t personal. As she apprises him of the sudden and violent attack, his tone darkens and his voice becomes stern.

“Well... At least the mission hasn’t been compromised.” She remarks.

“Yes... At least there’s that...” He grumbles.

A silence befalls them, as Madrid seems uninterested or unwilling to carry on the conversation.

“So... What do you want me to do with the prisoners?” Miss Ayanda finally asks, breaking the silence.

“This is a capital offense... Get what information you can out of them, then follow protocol.” He sullenly replies.

“Understood.” She nods her head.

She sighs as he ends the call, resting her face in her hands, her block, raptor-like snout protruding beyond the blades of each.

“... What’s the protocol for capital offenses?” Fizona asks.

“Liquidation and recycling...” Miss Ayanda answers.

“Recycling?” Kellan raises a brow.

“The Dezonians didn’t want anything to be wasted... Any of our dead who are unclaimed or forfeit their funerary rights, such as by committing serious crimes, are broken down in a specialized tank and turned into a sort of liquid fertilizer...”

“... Lovely.” A stunned Kellan murmurs.

“That’d be interesting to see!” Fizona remarks.

“I bet you were really popular.” Kellan quips.