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Opals and Fire

The year is 2019, and the Inkasi Free State stands on the brink of disaster. Popular support against President Carron's Imperial Puppet government has grown for decades, becoming a powder keg of political dissent.

The match is finally lit when government troops fire on peaceful protestors in the capitol city of Umbra. In an explosion of violence, a once peaceful assembly rips through government forces and storms the capitol palace. President Carron is dragged from his apartments and hung in the street. The people of Inkasi rejoice at what appears to be the turning of a new page.

The celebration is short-lived. A power vacuum ensues, and the country devolves into civil war. Three factions vie for control of the country. Superficially, the remaining government forces under General Amad Dejion control the capitol, but only by the skin of their teeth. Their influence is limited strictly to the streets of the city. Any patrols that venture outside the city walls are attacked and butchered.

Outside of the capitol, the remainder of the country is split roughly into east and west by competing guerilla forces. To the west, the mountainous jungles are controlled by the vicious People’s Army for Liberation (PAL). Using terror tactics such as torture, rape, and kidnapping the PAL rules a vast territory with iron teeth. The PAL leader, Karim Montez, styles himself a general, even wearing a faded red beret and a string of his enemies’ severed ears around his neck. He is not above conscripting child soldiers to swell the ranks of his army.

To the east, the democratic Coalition for Inkasi Freedom (CIF) controls the sparser foothills and savannah. Smaller in numbers, they can maintain a fighting stance through a popular underground support network that supplies them with enough arms and munitions to keep up the fight. They are highly resistant to outside influence in what they consider to be internal political affairs.

After five years of slaughter, shifting battle lines, and growing genocide an international peacekeeping force is mobilized to restore order and end the bloodshed; however, many inside and outside the country question the true motives of this peacekeeping force. Led by Imperial General Victor von Berkaard, a vanguard of 25,000 alliance peacekeepers land on Inkasi’s southern coastal plain and begin the march inland to the capitol.

****

Chase Lycaon clung grimly to the side of his landing craft and tried desperately to keep control of his breakfast. The rolling and pitching Higgins boat seemed to struggle in the swells, its engine roaring and dumping stifling black smog from its exhaust stacks into the air with every wave it fought to crest. A burst of cold salt spray came over the side and hit the young painted dog squarely in the chops, the shock enough to distract him momentarily from his seasick misery. It wasn’t his first time at sea, but the truth of an amphibious landing was a far cry from the gentle rolling breakers he had known when fishing with his grandfather off the coast of Mercia. For the umpteenth time, Chase looked down at the waxed canvas bag containing his rifle. It was an old, bolt-action, hand-me-down Krag issued by the Imperial Quartermasters to the Mercian troops who, having been politically isolationist for decades, lacked the means to fully equip their troops.

Chase resisted the urge to unwrap his rifle and check its action, lest it become corrupted by the seawater. Instead, he busied himself with shifting his pack and munitions belt into a more comfortable position.

“Two minutes!” the Boatswain’s mate yelled from the back of the landing craft as they approached the shore. Chase looked up as a loud peal of thunder boomed across the sky, and then it started to rain.

News reporters from around the world were on scene to record the magnificent landing of Imperial troops as they came ashore in southern Inkasi. General von Berkaard was one of the first ashore, riding through the shallow surf and onto the beach atop a magnificent white charger. The lion seemed untroubled by the inclement weather and exuded proud confidence to all in attendance. The Mercians were the last troops to land on the shore. By that time, nearly all the other peacekeepers had disembarked, dragging ashore their horses, munitions, and light vehicles. The tramp of men and material had turned the rain-soaked beach into a quagmire. The Mercians came ashore and instantly sank up past their ankles in gritty mud. By the time, Chase reached his platoon’s rally point amid the dunes, his thighs ached from the effort of dragging his legs through the mud and his butternut khaki trousers were filthy up past his puttees.

“Atten-hut!” the assembled platoon of painted dogs snapped to attention as Lieutenant Ogden marched as smartly as possible to the front of the formation with Sergeant Campbell on his heels. The Lieutenant’s normally impeccably waxed moustache drooped down his face in the downpour and rivulets of water poured off his bush hat. Only Sergeant Campbell seemed unbothered by the rain, his campaign hat sitting menacingly over his mutton chop bedecked face.

“Men,” Ogden began, “we’ve a long march ahead of us and much is expected of our performance. This is the first time Mercian troops have landed on foreign soil in nearly 10 years. The eyes of the world are upon us. As you may have noticed, conditions are a bit moist.” He paused for a laugh that didn’t come. “At the very least, we won’t need to drain our canteens.” Another pause for effect, but only Sergeant Campbell managed a dry scoff. “Gather your kit and be ready to move out in 5.” Then he turned and stalked off to officer business.

General von Berkaard had set a rigorous march for the troops of Mercia and was nearly apoplectic when they staggered into camp at nearly midnight on what should’ve been a day’s march. The Alliance camp sat at the edge of the jungle with the Inkasi mountains looming ominously miles in the distance. Before the dogs could pitch their tents and spoon a few handfuls of cold rations into their mouths, they were given the duties of completing slit trench latrines and picket duty at listening posts on the camp’s eastern perimeter. Chase was assigned first watch.

Chase dragged himself to the listening post fox hole and jumped in. Much to his dismay he splashed into knee deep water that nearly made him gasp with cold. The continuous rain had filled the fighting position and made the walls into slick mud. He pulled himself as high up onto the lip of the hole as he dared and lay flat. He wasn’t sure how he would see or hear anything in the deluge. Soaked to the bone, his feet ached in his boots, and the wetness of his fatigues had rubbed the fur and skin off the interior of his thighs. He wasn’t sure how long he lay, watching and listening, but after a while, the rain stopped, and pinpricks of diamond starlight poked through the sky. Suddenly, his fatigue caught up with him and his eyelids became heavy as lead weights. Unable to stop himself, Chase fell into a deep sleep.

How long he was out, Chase wasn’t sure, but suddenly he was awakened. Bleary eyed, he peered into the darkness, ears up and swiveling. Straining to view into the dark, he thought he saw shadows dancing past his position. He rubbed his eyes and blinked only to find the shadows had disappeared.

My imagination, he thought to himself. He was beginning to doze off again when shouts from the camp brought him back to alertness. He turned and spied running shapes as an alarm bell rang in the darkness. He clambered to his feet and ran towards the sounds of chaos.

*****

Topaz crept silently through the jungle, her bare paws gliding over the leaf litter with the confidence born of years spent hunting through the jungle night. Her fellow guerillas were with her. She couldn’t see or hear them, but she knew they were there. At the jungle’s edge she paused and went into a crouch, watching and waiting. Ahead she could see the invader’s camp. Olive drab tents sat arrayed neatly in rows with earthwork trenches dug around its edges. In the rain there were no campfires, and few soldiers moved back and forth in the darkness. There were a few sentries on duty, but she was confident she could slip past them.

Suddenly the rain slowed to a drizzle and stopped all together. She cursed silently but determined not to abort the mission. Off to her right she heard the soft coo of a jungle thrush, and she smiled fiercely. That was no bird, but rather her leader signaling them to move out. Slipping her war skull down over her face she arose and started forward.

A score of genets and civets came out of the darkness like wraiths on the hunt. They slipped easily past sentries and slipped over the earthworks. They split into multiple directions heading to their objectives, searching for food, medicine, ammunition, and weapons. They had been watching the camp all day and knew where everything was stored. Topaz moved through the tents and quietly ducked into a tent marked: “Armory” by a hand painted sign at the door. It took only a moment for her eyes to adjust to the deeper gloom. Long green crates were stacked nearly to the ceiling on all sides, each marked with different designations.

The genet moved to an unlocked crate and opened it with a creak of rusty hinges. Packed in straw inside were shiny new SKS rifles, stamped with the Imperial maker’s mark on their buttstocks. She slipped two out and draped them over her shoulders by their slings. Another crate nearby yielded a clutch of grenades which went into her satchel. She gathered an ammo tin and then left the tent, knowing that time was running out.

Retracing her steps she was almost at the camp’s edge when shouts of alarm brought her to a stop. Within seconds an alarm bell was ringing, and the beams of flashlights began stabbing through the darkness. She scampered back over the earthworks and spinted towards the tree line. Around her, more guerillas ran as gunshots rang out in the darkness. Topaz made the mistake of looking back and suddenly ran into something that drove the breath from her lungs and sent her sprawling. A male voice cursed in the night and the two of them scrambled to their feet and she found herself staring down the barrel of a rifle.

****

“Fuck!” Chase cursed loudly as he collided with someone. He rushed back to his feet and grabbed his rifle, about to apologize, when his eyes alighted on the other person. His rifle was up in a flash, finger on the trigger, but he paused. Even in the wan starlight he could see the female genet clearly. She was bare chested, dressed in a loin cloth with hawk feathers in her hair, and a necklace of crocodile teeth hung around her neck. What appeared to be a saurian skull was pulled down over her face, its sun-bleached surface covered in tribal designs of deep blue woad paint. From inside the skull’s eye sockets, two emerald, green eyes glittered fiercely back at him. Even with his rifle pointed directly at her, she showed no sign of fear. His finger tightened on the trigger, all it would take was three pounds of pressure and a .30 caliber bullet would rip through her heart.

But Chase didn’t fire. His gaze softened, he slowly lowered his rifle to point at the dirt, and he took his hand away from the trigger. The genet’s eyes widened in surprise, and she slowly stood from her crouch, yet she didn’t move away; just stood staring at him.

“Please,” Chase said, “go before the others get here.”

Topaz nodded and turned to leave. She took a few steps before stopping and then she looked back at him. “You have kind eyes,” she said. And then she was gone into the night.

****

Topaz stared up at the painted dog in his filthy khakis and bush hat. His rifle was old, but she had no doubt that, only a few feet away, it would kill her easily. Weighed down by rifles and grenades, she knew she had no chance of running away. And then his rifle was down, and his hand was away from it in a non-threatening gesture of mercy. She rose and looked into his eyes. The painted dog was filthy in his khaki uniform and his posture bled weariness, but his eyes held her. His left eye was blue and his right brown. They stared at her without anger or fear. In that moment, he didn’t look like a soldier, just a man, with a heart, who was in a war he didn’t belong in.

“Please,” he said with a calm baritone, “go before the others get here.”

Topaz knew he was right and turned to go with her ill-gotten weapons, but something pulled her up short. She turned to look at him over her shoulder, “You have kind eyes,” she said, and you don’t belong here, she thought.

Then the genet was sprinting away. She made the tree line quickly and disappeared into the jungle’s safety. She was the first one to reach her rally point and she felt cold fear worm through her heart. Had anyone been hurt or captured? She could only wait to find out. It took a few minutes, but one by one, the other guerillas appeared. Topaz’s heart swelled to see everyone had made it and they were laden with their spoils. She grinned at all of them and the men and women grinned back. It had been a good hunt.

*****

The next morning found officers screaming at men about the previous night’s events. How had this happened? How did guerillas enter the camp? How had the known where to go? What had they taken? Who were they and where had they gone? So many questions and few answers.

The morning was halfway gone when the peacekeepers moved out again. General von Berkaard split his forces into three battle groups that would move north through the jungle on separate trails, marching hard towards the relative safety of the capitol. The painted dogs of Mercia were positioned on the left most flank of the advance. Chase hadn’t slept well during the brief hours he’d been allowed to do so. His thoughts were haunted by emerald eyes.

The rain started again at around 0900 hours and then men lowered the heads as they marched deeper into the jungle on animal trails barely wide enough for one man to pass through. The ground was treacherous, and men risked slipping and turning ankles as they slogged onwards. Chase whined softly with each step. His boots had come loose, and his feet were blistering. His thighs continued to chafe, and he was sure they were bleeding through his trousers. At noon, Lieutenant Ogden and his men reached a clearing in the jungle and, suddenly, as quick as it had come, the rain disappeared, and a bright sun came out. All around, the Mercian men cheered and whooped as morale soared.

And then a machine gun opened up and men began to die.

Chase saw in slow motion green tracers pass through the point men in the formation before skipping off the ground and away into the jungle. Rifle fire joined the cacophony of death as Chase threw himself flat. Men were screaming and shouting amidst the chaos. The coppery scent of blood mixed with the stink of spilled bowel and the sweet aroma of tree sap as Mercian men died. Chase brought his rifle around and began firing at muzzle flashes on the other side of the clearing, less than a hundred yards away. Working the action as fast as he could, his rifle quickly ran dry, and he cursed the ancient rifle as he struggled to reload. One by one, he dropped cartridges into the rifle’s side gate. To his left, Lieutenant Ogden was shouting and blazing away with his revolver. Chase couldn’t understand what he was saying. And then a bullet hit the Lieutenant in the chest, and he went down hard. To Chase right, Sergeant Campbell, a decorated veteran was hit in the head by a burst of machine gun fire. His campaign hat came off in an explosion of blood and brain matter, sailing away into the foliage.

Chase fought down his horror and brought his rifle back up again, but then something struck him in the side of the head like a hammer. The dog’s vision swam and blurred. Rolling onto his back, Chase’s fading consciousness was dimly aware of the swirling colors of golden sunlight filtered through green trees. And then darkness took him.

He awoke again to the sensation of being roughly dragged through the leaf litter by his arms. Chase turned his aching head and saw two hyenaids, dressed in jungle camouflage fatigues, pulling him by the wrists. The gunfire had stopped but he could hear screams, moans and, most disturbingly, men begging for their lives. A blood drenched machete hung from one of his captors belts along with a string of severed painted dog hands.

“No… no… no!” Chase screamed, summoning all his strength, he began to struggle. He squirmed and writhed and was able to sink his teeth into one of the hyena’s calves. The soldier screamed and Chase tasted hot blood in his mouth. Then a rifle butt cracked into Chase’s head, and he let go. The pain was so horrid, Chase couldn’t scream. A white-hot knot of agony settled behind his eyes, and it was all he could do to keep from vomiting and passing out again.

Then Chase was dropped roughly onto his back. He was grateful for the release of pressure on his arms, but before he could rise, a heavy boot kicked him in the side and another between his legs. Chase screamed in pain and his vision blurred. Then something wet was splashing on him and the noxious smell of gasoline overpowered his nose.

Oh gods no…

Chase felt helpless and weak, unable to rise or fight back as another splash of petrol hit him in the face. He coughed and spluttered; the sound of a flicking lighter reached his ears and Chase closed his eyes.

Please… not like this…

*****

Topaz and her fellow fighters had been ghosting the foreign soldiers’ advance all day. Concealed high in the trees, they were silent and invisible as they watched the Mercians struggle through the jungle. As the Mercians reached the clearing, she froze. Something was wrong here. Some strange smell was on the wind.

PAL!

She wanted to call out to them, but a strong hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned to find Kaleb looking at her with golden eyes. The civet slowly shook his head.

And then it was too late.

Topaz forced herself not to turn away from the massacre. They may have been foreign men, but they didn’t deserve to be cut down like curs. She thought of the painted dog from the previous night and, for reasons she couldn’t explain, she knew she didn’t want him to die.

The firefight lasted a few short minutes. The CIF guerillas watched it until the last gunshots died out and then turned to leave, but something held Topaz back. The genet’s gaze searched the carnage as the PAL rounded up the dying and prisoners, murdering them with gunshots to the head, or butchering them with machetes. And then she saw him. He was being dragged towards the center of the clearing. He fought against his captors and her heart beat quickly as he bit one of his captors. Then he was beset with a rifle butt and boots, and his resistance faded. Horror and bile swelled in her throat as a PAL hyenaid began pouring gasoline on the prostrate painted dog from a jerry can.

Not like this, she thought.

Her rifle was up before she knew what she was doing, and she sighted in on a PAL soldier struggling to flick a lighter into life. The rifle thumped against her shoulder as she put two quick shots into the soldier’s chest. The hyenaid collapsed and cries of alarm from the PAL soldiers reached her ears. Her next shot took another in the throat, and he fell, kicking and writhing as he choked to death on his own blood. Behind her, Topaz heard her friends join the fight, raining accurate sniper fire onto the PAL soldiers. The CIF guerillas showed no mercy and within moments the surviving PAL dropped their weapons and were routed back into the jungle.

Topaz and the others dropped quickly to the jungle floor and set a perimeter around the clearing. She rushed to check on the painted dog and found him breathing. His eyelids fluttered, but before she could speak to him, he passed into unconsciousness.

“What do we do with him?” Kaleb asked.

Topaz knew what she should do, but also knew she couldn’t leave him there. “We’re taking him with us.” Together, the guerillas made a stretcher of branches and rope and gently lifted Chase onto it. He whined at as they touched his beaten and bruised body but didn’t awaken. The CIF then carried him off back into the relative safety of the jungle.

*****

Chase was only dimly aware that he was still alive. He heard the snap and crack of bullets passing overhead but the gunfire sounded muffled and distant. He faded in and out of consciousness. Before long he felt like his body was floating and he thought he was dreaming. His eyes cracked open, and two eyes of emerald fire stared back at him. A soft hand took his and then he faded away again.

Chase awoke with a start and gasping breath. His head felt like it had been split open and his body ached from head to toe. Trying to move as little as possible, he forced his eyes to remain open and took in his surroundings. He was in a hut, of that, he was sure. A roof of thatched palm branches, nestled upon rounded walls of bamboo, provided blessed shade and relief from the jungle heat. Dim light filtered in from a doorway covered by a blanket, but he could make out that the walls surrounding him were decorated with scaley pelts, bones, gaily colored feathers, and a pair of crossed rifles hung near the doorway. He tried to rise to his elbows, but only succeeded in gaining a few inches before he collapsed with a loud whine of pain.

The curtain over the door was pushed back and a familiar face entered. It was the genet with the green eyes, though she was no longer wearing her saurian war skull. She moved to his side and knelt, an expression of concern on her face. “You’re awake,” she said.

He nodded as much as his throbbing head would allow. His lips parted and he tried to speak with a tongue that felt like it was made of cotton.

“W-water… please…” he croaked.

The genet nodded and hurried over to a nearby canteen and brought it to him. She placed a hand between his shoulders and helped him sit up a little. Then she brought the canteen to his lips and gently tilted it for him.

Chase drank the metallic tasting water greedily and, before she could stop him, he was coughing, and sputtering. She patted him gently on the back until the choking fit had passed. “Thank you,” he managed.

She smiled at him and pulled something from a small pouch at her waist. She held it out to his mouth, but he wrinkled his nose at the acrid smell. She tutted softly.

“Dried Tanga berries,” she explained, as if he were a child, “they will help with the pain.”

He nodded and ate the berries which, surprisingly, tasted far better than they smelled. She smiled again and rose to her feet. He whined when she turned to leave, and she stopped.

“Sleep,” she said. “I’ll be back.”

And then sleep took him again.

*****

Topaz sat on the edge of the massive tree branch that supported her hut. Trees in this area of the jungle were ancient and grew to sizes that boggled the mind. She had grown up in an area like this and it made her feel a little homesick at the thought of what she was missing and what had been taken from her. She swung her feet and hummed a calming tune as she listened to the birds chirp at each other amidst the branches. She watched a pair of iridescent butterflies dance past and she smiled. The sun was slowly setting on the horizon, filling the canopy with soft orange light.

Suddenly, a whine from inside the hut alerted her and she hurried inside. She found the painted dog awake and staring at her with wide eyes. She could see plainly that he was in tremendous pain and her heart moved for him. He was in a sorry state. Mud caked his legs; blood soaked his trousers, and an ugly wound covered the side of his head where a bullet had grazed him.

“You’re awake,” she said, not entirely sure what else to say.

He asked her for water, and she grabbed her own canteen to help slake his thirst. As she tended to him, she was suddenly reminded of when her own mother would care for her as a child. He seemed so weak and helpless at that moment. After he was done, she offered him some medicine from her pouch. He didn’t seem keen for it, but she explained that it would help, just as her mother had to her.

She left him and exited the hut; it was getting dark now and it didn’t take long before she heard deep and gentle snores coming from inside. Why? She asked herself. Why had she saved him? And, perhaps, stranger why had he spared her life? Was that why she showed him mercy? Topaz wasn’t entirely sure. That was part of it perhaps, but there was something else about him, something deeper she couldn’t put her finger on yet. Maybe she never would.

All of that aside, she knew life was about to get even more complicated.

*****

Chase awoke the next morning to the first golden rays of sunlight peeking through the hut’s doorway. He still hurt, but oddly felt less sore than he thought he should. His head no longer ached and the pain in his ribs and groin had subsided greatly. He wondered if it was the dried berries he’d been given. With some willpower, he was able to roll onto his side and prop himself up on one elbow. He groaned slightly at the effort, and something stirred next to him. He looked over and noticed a slumbering body lying next to his. He blinked as he realized it was his genet caretaker. The dawn light highlighted the edges of her fur, giving her a radiant glow. She mumbled softly and slowly opened her eyes. Chase met her eyes and then quickly looked away as he realized he was staring. The genet rose and stretched with a yawn before turning back to him.

“You seem to be feeling better?” she asked. He nodded dumbly. “How bad is your pain?”

“Better,” he replied.

She smiled at his answer and turned to walk out. “Wait!” his voice brought her up short.

“My name is Chase,” he told her, and her smile got wider. Chase immediately realized he liked her smile a lot.

“I’m Topaz. Stay here, Chase. I’ll find us some food.”

She exited, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

*****

Topaz returned to the hut bearing two mess tins of steaming stew from the cook fire that had guttered down over night. The stew contained pork, leek, onion, and potatoes, and everyone knows that stew tastes better the second day.

She bustled into the hut and plopped down next to Chase on a cushion. She offered him a tin and spoon. She could tell by the way his nose twitched that he approved of the smell far more than he had the Tanga berries. He took the tin gratefully and began wolfing down the food trying, and failing, to keep it from dripping on his shirt. Topaz watched him with wide eyes and then began to laugh when he noticed her staring.

“Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. She shook her head at him and smiled so wide that he couldn’t help but smile too.

He settled back to his food at a more sedate pace and Topaz began to eat as well. The stew was warm and rich and filling. They ate in silence and when they had finished, she set their utensils aside to be washed, and then settled in front of him, eyeing him up and down.

Topaz could see him shift uncomfortably under her scrutiny, but this was important. She leaned in and he recoiled slightly as if she meant to bite him. Then she sniffed and her own nose wrinkled. “You reek of gasoline,” she said flatly. His ears went back, and his nose dipped sheepishly.

“Come,” she continued, “it’s time we got you cleaned up.”

****

Chase blushed at her critique of his odor, but he certainly didn’t deny it. She retrieved a canvas backpack, slung it over her shoulders, and then slipped beneath one of his arms. He grunted as Topaz helped him stand. Her body was small, lithe, and strong. She seemed to have no problem helping him to his feet. She then guided out of the hut and into the morning.

Chase blinked his eyes and squinted in the sunlight. In a breathtaking instant he realized they were nearly three stories off the ground. All around in the branches of massive trees were huts like the one he had been sleeping in. Civet and genet men and women, all dressed much like Topaz, came and went on their morning routines. Those who noticed him stopped and stared; some with outright hostility, but most with curiosity. Even a few children scampered about, playing amongst the limbs, climbing up and down trees at speeds which made Chase dizzy.

Topaz led him a short distance away to a rope ladder that led to the ground, something she didn’t seem to need, but he was grateful he didn’t have to attempt to climb down the old-fashioned way. Safely down on terra-firma, the genet led him nearly 100 yards away from the village and towards the sound of rushing water. Rounding a bend, he found himself staring at a meandering river, fed by a small waterfall, that twisted and curved away through the trees. Topaz led him by the hand towards a pool at the waterfall’s base.

Stepping gingerly down the slick rocks she brought him to a halt at the water’s edge. “Now,” she said, “You need a bath.”

Chase blushed but knew by her tone of voice that she would brook no argument. Slowly he began to step into the water but stopped as she began to giggle at him.

“No, silly. Do your people always bathe fully dressed?”

Chase’s blush grew deeper still as the shoe dropped. She expected him to strip and bathe in front of her! “Umm, well…” he stuttered and tried to think of something to say, some way to at least gain himself a little privacy.

The genet tutted at him before stepping closer. “Let me help,” she said, reaching up to unbutton his shirt. He stood stock still and tried to let her remove his shirt, which came off with the crackle of dried salt-sweat. It dropped away, leaving him bare-chested in his trousers. His puttees had to be chipped off from the combination of mud and sweat and the sensation of removing his boots was nigh unto ecstasy. Next came his belt and khaki trousers, the first slid through its loops and away with little issue, but as Topaz began to extricate him from his pants, a yelp brought her to a halt. In dismay, he realized the blood from his chaffed thighs had stuck to the pants legs and removing them meant painfully tearing open the scabs.

At first, Topaz didn’t seem to understand, but soon grasped what had happened. She frowned sadly and motioned him to lay down. He did so and, slowly, Topaz helped him peel off the garment inch by inch. When the pants reached his thighs, he whimpered softly but gritted his teeth and nodded to her. As gently as possible, Topaz removed the trousers, tearing open the scabs and causing Chase to whine. Blood began to trickle from the wounds and Topaz retrieved clean dressings from her pack which she then used to hold pressure and stop the bleeding.

Chase lay back as she ministered to him. Slowly, overhead, a pair of yellow Sulphur butterflies danced around each other, chasing and teasing each other with their courtship dance. After a few moments, the bleeding stopped, Topaz removed the dressings and, satisfied, she reached for the hem of his boxers.

Chase grabbed her hands to stop her, and the genet stared at him in surprise. Then she giggled at him. “A little bashful, huh?” she teased. “Don’t worry, I won’t look.”

Then she stood and stepped away, turning her back to him, after retrieving a bar of soap, he was surprised when she unwound her loin cloth, tossed it aside and dove into the pool. The painted dog didn’t think he could blush deeper. Her attire didn’t leave much to the imagination anyway but, somehow, seeing her bathing seemed like a far more intimate invasion of privacy. Still, he knew she expected him to join her, and he was suddenly determined not to let her down. Standing, he slid his boxers down and off before climbing into the pool. The water came up to his waist and was surprisingly refreshing. She turned to him and smiled. “Not so bad, huh?”

“No,” he said, “it feels really nice.”

“Good! I’m glad you like it,” she beamed. She waded over to the pounding waterfall and ducked beneath the water. Chase followed and allowed the rushing water to pour over his sore body. The pressure of the falls massaged his muscles and began to wash off days of grime and stink. After a few minutes, Topaz took his hand and guided him out. She turned him around and began to wash his back and shoulders with the soap. Chase would’ve protested, but the touch of her hands was heavenly on his body, and he couldn’t resist the indulgence.

Next came his front and head. Was it his imagination or did her hands linger on his chest? He winced as she gently washed his head wound, removing the dried blood. She offered him the soap and he climbed out far enough to wash his lower half. Again, she turned away to give him privacy, but it seemed less important to him now.

When he was done, Chase returned to the pool and began to give her the soap but stopped. “Topaz,” he started, “would you like me to return the favor?”

Her green eyes widened then she smiled and shook her head. “You don’t have to do that, Chase,” she replied. “You’re my guest and I’m here to help you.”

He nodded and felt himself smile at her kindness. “Please?” he continued, “it’s the least I can do.”

Did he see a small blush on her cheeks? She nodded and turned away, lifting her long, sun-kissed brown hair out of the way. He worked the soap into a lather and applied it to her shoulders, neck, and back. Her fur was soft and downy, but beneath he could feel the corded muscle of a life lived climbing trees and vaulting through the jungle canopy. His hands found her hair with the soap, and he gently worked it into her scalp, making her sigh happily. Chase’s tail wagged under the water.

Then he was looking into her eyes as she turned to face him. She looked at him expectantly and he began to lather his hands again. His touch found her chest. Her breasts were soft beneath his ministrations, and he enjoyed touching her so intimately. She looked into his eyes as he finished and, standing so close, Chase was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to lean in and kiss her. He hesitated for too long, and the moment was lost.

Was there disappointment in her eyes? Chase wasn’t sure but they both submerged beneath the life-giving water and were cleansed. Topaz led him back to the rocky shore and bade him lie back. Retrieving her pack again, she withdrew clean dressings and wrapped his head wound. Humming softly to herself, she moved down and applied an antibacterial salve to his thighs, before wrapping the wounds. The dog did his best to ignore the feeling of her warmth breath on his cock as she ministered to him. If she noticed anything stirring, she politely ignored it and finished.

Then, together, they lay on the beach and dried out in the sun warm sunlight.

*****

Topaz marveled at how light Chase seemed as they walked together through the jungle. His pace was slow and limping, but she walked patiently with him. She led him to what her people called the Crystal Fall. It was a sacred place to her people, providing a much-needed water supply as well as a holy well for ritual cleansing. Many of her friends sneered at Chase as they left the village, but she returned their disdain with a hard look.

Reaching the pool, he seemed to grasp the concept of what was coming, but she chided his hesitation, “You need a bath.”

The dog began to enter the water with his uniform on and she wondered if he was so dense.

“No, silly. Do your people always bathe fully dressed?”

His embarrassment was palpable, but she wouldn’t be swayed. He couldn’t remain in his filthy state, or they’d never be allowed back in the village. She stepped forward and he allowed her to begin to remove his clothing. When she reached his pants, his yelp made her stop. She looked and noticed the dried blood soaking through his trousers and her heart moved for him. Laying him down, she peeled the garment off as gently as she could. Blood ran freely down his fur and onto the rocks and she cursed inwardly. Her pack held some sterile dressings, and she held them to his thighs for several minutes.

Content with the bleeding under control she moved to finish aiding him in undressing. He protested. His embarrassment was getting a little annoying, but she realized his culture was far different from her own. For her people, nudity wasn’t inherently sexual and didn’t carry any shame with it. Still, she respected him and turned away to give him so privacy. Unable to resist the call of the water any longer, she removed her loin cloth and dove into the pool. The water swallowed her body and caressed her soul in a way that only she understood. She re-emerged and took a deep and happy breath of contentment. She felt him enter the water and turned back.

“Not so bad, huh?”

He shook his head, and she beamed. She worked her way beneath the waterfall and sighed happily as the pounding water washed her body. Here, under he falls, she felt more at peace and connected to nature than anywhere else in the world. Chase joined her and she wondered if he felt the same. After a few moments, she took his hand and guided him out.

His hands are soft, she thought, not the hands of a soldier.

She washed his head and frowned at the place where a PAL bullet had grazed him. A half inch to the left and he would’ve died. She softly scrubbed and washed was pleased as he relaxed under her touch. She turned him around and began to wash his chest. She liked his multi-colored markings, and the feeling of his muscled chest was more than a little pleasing. She hoped he didn’t notice that she lingered there a little longer than necessary. Her own disappointment at allowing him to wash the rest of his body surprised her.

Why am I feeling this way?

And then he surprised her with his offer to wash her in return. Her eyes searched his own for some sign of disingenuousness or hesitation, but he seemed sincere in his desire. After a half-hearted protest, she accepted and turned her back to him.

His touch was firm in all the right ways, and she felt herself melting as he massaged her neck and shoulders. He washed her hair and scalp and even took a moment to scritch her ears, which she enjoyed immensely. When she turned to face him, his eyes were wide, and she felt her heart in her throat. Again, she wondered at why she was feeling so anxious.

Then he was touching her chest. All nervousness she felt fled, and a small shiver ran through her body. She watched his face as he washed her breasts and enjoyed his rapt attention almost as much as the intimate touch. He was so close to her now and, now that he didn’t smell like fossil fuels, his nearness was far more enjoyable. Nearly nose to nose, time seemed to slow, and the way he was looking into her eyes made her heart pound. Instinctively, she knew what was about to happen.

He’s going to kiss me.

Did she want that? She barely knew him! Would she kiss him back?

But he didn’t and her heart sank. She inwardly cursed herself a fool.

She tried not to let her disappointment show as they returned to the falls and washed away the soap. After they returned to the beach, she busied herself with dressing his wounds to get her mind off his lips and gentle eyes. Humming a childhood tune to herself that she no longer remembered the words to, she applied ointment to his chaffed skin. His body was pleasing to look at and being between his legs gave her a thrill, but she was certain he didn’t feel anything for her.

Finishing, she sprawled on the beach to dry. He was watching her, but she pretended not to notice, to hide her feelings, and closed her eyes. Soon she had fallen asleep.

Topaz awoke to an odd sound. How long she’d been asleep was a mystery as was the sound. Then she realized it was the soft mewling of a broken heart. She looked over at Chase. He was on his side, facing away from her, his shoulders shuddering as he tried to conceal his miserable sobs. The genet’s heart broke and she scooted over, wrapping her arms around his body and pulling him close. She held him as he wept.

After a few minutes he calmed, and his breathing slowed. “Topaz?” came his cracking voice.

“Chase?”

“Did anyone else make it?” he asked.

“No, Chase. You were the only one we could save.”

Then he was crying again. She continued to hold him close.

“Why?” he cried, “why me? They deserved to live more than me. Why was I spared?”

The genet said nothing and merely let him vent his anger and sadness. He went silent and continued to cry.

“Chase,” she said softly, “I don’t know many things, but I can see that you’re a good man with a good heart. Who knows why some live and some die in war? Is it fate? Luck? God? No one knows and no one ever will. All we can do is be thankful for our next breath and live every moment as if it’s our last.”

His crying slowed to soft sniffles, and he nodded but said nothing more.

*****

Later, Chase and Topaz left the waterfall behind. She had insisted his clothing was unsalvageable and needed to be destroyed. Instead, she offered him a loin cloth like the one all the men of the village wore. He blanched at the thought but realized he didn’t have much choice. The genet helped him don and wrap the garment appropriately before they returned. He felt exposed and more than a little concerned that slightest breeze would leave him naked, but no such thing happened.

As he returned to the village, he took better notice of the villagers bustling around him. All the women went topless as did the men. There seemed to be no shame and even the smaller children capered about completely bare. Many wore avian feathers and assorted animal teeth as adornments with their brightly colored tribal head and arm bands. Again, he was a queer sight to them but there was more curiosity than scorn on their faces now that he wasn’t dressed like a foreign soldier. Near the village center, a voluptuous female civet approached with her mate in tow.

“Mazia!” Topaz cried happily. She rushed forward and embraced the civet with a tight hug. Mazia returned the affection before they released each other with deep smiles. “Mazia, please, allow me to introduce my friend and guest, Chase.”

Mazia turned and nodded to Chase with a friendly enough smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Chase. Any friend of Topaz’s is a friend of mine.”

Chase felt himself smiling at her genuineness and extended a hand in greeting. Mazia stared at it queerly for a moment before she reached out and took his interior forearm instead. A warrior’s greeting. Chase felt a little embarrassed at his faux paus but felt the strength and acceptance in the gesture.

Mazia spoke next. “Oh! Where are my manners? Chase, this is my mate, Malech.”

Malech stepped forward and extended his arm to Chase. This time the painted dog took it appropriately and Malech seemed pleased. His fur was a lighter brown color than Mazia’s grey, his stature and bearing bled confidence and command presence.

“An honor to meet you,” Malech said in his deep bass voice. “Especially now that you smell better,” he continued with a sniff. Chase realized by his grin that Malech was teasing him without malice. Mazia gently punched Malech in the shoulder, “be nice. He’s been through a lot.”

“No offense taken,” Chase said with a small laugh. “I cannot thank you all enough for taking me in,” he said, addressing all of them. The two civets nodded appreciatively.

“From what we’ve heard,” Mazia said, “we owe you thanks as well. Apparently, you had our friend in your sights but chose not to fire.”

“Why is that?” Malech finished for her.

“I…” Chase trailed off. Why hadn’t he fired? Wasn’t that his duty as a soldier?

“My dad taught me a lesson when I was getting ready to leave home for the army. ‘True strength isn’t knowing when to take a life, but when to spare one.’ That night, when I had Topaz at gun point, there was something about her. Something about her eyes. She didn’t look like an enemy. And besides, I didn’t come here to kill. I came here to end the killing.”

Topaz was staring at him as he finished with a look he couldn’t quite define. Silence reigned for a moment before Malech coughed politely and broke the spell. “Well, it’s good you didn’t take her from us. I’d hate to have had to gut you.”

Chase wondered if he was joking, but behind the friendly grin, he could see danger in the male civet’s eyes.

Mazia broke the awkwardness and took Chase by the hand. “Come on, we’d be honored to treat you to lunch at our place.”

He was led to a hut on the village’s eastern edge which had been built around the trunk of a massive kapok tree. Mazia, Topaz, and Malech had no problem scaling the tree before lowering a rope ladder for Chase. Once inside, he was offered a seat on a pile of cushions and bowls of food were laid out before him. He was offered fresh mangoes, plantains, smoked fish, tubers, and barbecued grubs. Chase greedily accepted everything except the grubs. The others giggled at him when he blanched at the blackened larvae.

A silence fell on the group as they ate. Not the awkward silence of strangers, but the more contented one of those comfortable in agreeable company. After lunch, Mazia and Topaz asked him questions about his homeland and how he had come to be in the army. Chase told them about the island nation of Mercia which lay far away to the east. He told them about how he came from a poor but proud family. He had spent his youth hunting and fishing with his father. When he became a man, he felt the call to adventure that many young men feel. The army had seemed like a way to see the world and maybe serve a cause higher than himself. He made up his mind when he heard about the war in Inkasi.

His mother had wept when he told her the news and even his usually stone-faced father had shed a few tears. Basic training had nearly killed him, but he marched tall and proud on graduation day. After that it had been a short sabbatical before he was packed onto a rusty troop ship and shipped to far away Inkasi. En route, he and his fellow Mercians had been given hand-me-down weapons and equipment, but he hadn’t cared. It all seemed so fresh and exciting. He was so sure of his ability to make a difference in the world, as if his contribution could change the course of history. Now, harsh realities had settled in, and he wasn’t so sure of anything anymore.

When he had finished, Chase realized that everyone was staring at him. He shook his head sheepishly, “Life makes fools of us all, I suppose.”

Topaz’s hand took his. “I don’t think you’re a fool, Chase. You’re brave and noble, if a little naïve.”

Malech had a slightly different opinion. “You are brave to venture so far from your home, but you need to understand something. This isn’t your war. It’s our war. It’s civil war. We didn’t ask for your help, and I don’t think that those above you came here with that objective.” Mazia stared daggers at him, and he went silent, but Chase wouldn’t leave it alone.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Your ‘peacekeepers’ are led by an Empire general, right?” Malech asked. Chase nodded.

“The Empire’s entire history is littered with colonialism and jingoism. The world is their oyster, and they have a deeply vested interest in maintaining control of Inkasi’s natural resources. That’s one of the reasons people revolted against President Carron in the first place. We wanted the right to rule our own land without foreign domination.”

“It’s true,” Topaz said softly, “we’ve been under the heel of one dictator after the other ever since I was a little girl. Don’t we deserve the right to self-determination, and security, and freedom? That’s what we’re fighting for, Chase, and if the PAL wins this war, I’m afraid history will repeat itself all over again.”

Chase considered their words. He realized he truly had had no idea what he was walking into when he landed in Inkasi. He wondered what the future could possibly hold for him now. As if reading his thoughts, Mazia spoke. “What will you do now, Chase?”

“I…” he started, “I don’t know.”

Topaz wanted to speak but bit her tongue. Mazia interrupted before she could summon the willpower.

“Well, there’s certainly enough time for such things later. For now, we’ve won a great victory over the PAL and there is to be a celebration tonight. We’d be honored if you would join us as our guest of honor?”

Chase’s tail wagged as he nodded in assent.

If there’s one thing Topaz’s people knew how to do, it was how to throw a party. She helped with the preparations all afternoon. She had left Chase in the care of Malech for “manly duties.” She bustled about the village, hanging colored lanterns, skins, and colored animal bones; she washed fruits and vegetables and chatted with her friends. Every now and then though, she snuck a peek at Chase, keeping an eye on him for more reasons than one.

She needn’t have worried for his safety though. Chase seemed to be endearing himself well to the males with Malech by his side. Even bruised and bandaged he was able to chop firewood, arrange logs and bamboo chairs, and even showed a particular skill for cleaning game meat, no doubt a remnant of his childhood.

“Watcha looking at, Topaz?”

Topaz jumped and dropped her bowl of mushrooms. She whirled to find a very cheeky Mazia watching her. Topaz’s face flushed deeply, and her tail began to twitch in annoyance. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh please,” Mazia sighed, rolling her eyes, “you know you’re looking at him. We can all tell.”

“I am not!”

“Honey, you’re not fooling anyone. Besides, it’s ok to look. He is rather handsome if I do say so myself, which I do.” The other ladies at the banquet table giggled and nodded.

The genet flustered and her mouth worked silently as she tried to come up with a good excuse, some reason why her heart skipped a beat every time he looked at her. Mazia put her arm around Topaz’s shoulder and steered her away to a more private location to talk.

“You don’t have to be ashamed; ya know? He is a very good-looking man. Even with that ridiculous bandage on his head he’s got a very pretty face. And them legs look good in that loin cloth. I wonder what’s underneath it…” Mazia trailed off and Topaz stuck her tongue out at the civet.

“He’s strong, brave, and kind,” Mazia continued, “and he’s taken with you too.”

“What!?” Topaz squeaked.

“Mhmm, and I’d say probably more than just taken. You both can lie to your mothers and to yourselves, but Aunty Mazia always knows the truth.” Mazia tapped the side of her nose wisely.

Finally, Topaz hung her head in defeat. “I don’t know what to do, Mazia.”

“What do you mean? There’s only one thing to do!”

“But he’s an outsider!” the genet protested.

“Hun, there are no outsiders in love and tomorrow isn’t promised. You’ll know when the time is right.” Then Mazia gave her a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and returned to the food preparation.

That night the people of the CIF celebrated. As the sun set and the moon rose, a great bonfire was set, and food was passed around in earnest. Wine made from jungle ingredients flowed like water and the sound of merry voices mingled with the music of pipes, drums, and guitars. The atmosphere was infectious, and Topaz was happy to see Chase enjoying himself. He laughed and joked and drank and ate with the best of the tribe. An hour passed, then two, and Topaz could resist no longer. She rose from her cushion on the jungle floor and took Chase by the hand, pulling him to his feet.

“Dance with me!” she commanded with a laugh.

“I don’t know how to dance!” he replied with cheeks flushed by drink. She shook her head at him and dragged him near to the bonfire where others danced and whirled in time to the music.

She giggled merrily at him and soon had the painted dog stomping and twirling around the flames. There were many good dancers, but she only had eyes for him. The roaring firelight painted his multi-colored fur in wild hues of gold and orange as he danced and danced. She laughed and clapped and danced with him. Was it the fire or was her face burning hotter with every moment?

The music trailed off as the song ended and the dancers came to a halt. There was much applause and more than a few whistles of appreciation around the fire from the assembled audience.

Topaz was breathing heavy and smiling wider than she ever had. Chase was equally out of breath. “A fine dance,” he said with a laugh after he had composed himself.

She laughed and gave him a playful shove. He went to return to his seat with a wagging tail, but Topaz caught him by the shoulder. “Wait,” she said, “there’s something I want to share with you.” She skipped over to the banquet table and returned with a long pipe made of acacia wood. It was lit and grey smoke curled from the opening. She took a deep draw form the pipe, pulled him closer, and breathed the sweet smoke out and into him.

*****

Chase laughed and clapped as the song ended. He’d never known so joyous a time, and no one had ever looked at him the way Topaz did during that dance. He had been mesmerized by her every move, and the ending of the song couldn’t break the spell she had on him.

He was going to return to his seat, but she caught him. She said she wanted to share something with him. When she came back with the pipe, he wasn’t sure what to expect. Her eyes never left his as she took a deep draw from the pipe and pulled him closer. His lips were inches from hers when she breathed the smoke into his nose and mouth. He inhaled deeply and the intoxicating effect was almost instantaneous. The smoke went smoothly down into his lungs and left the taste of flowers in his mouth. Chase rocked slightly on his heels, his pupils dilating as his head began to spin gently.

The spinning stopped after only a moment. His face was flushed, and his tail twitched as his heart pounded in his chest. He looked down at Topaz to find her gazing up at him expectantly. And then he leaned in and kissed her.

The genet squeaked in surprise but then she was kissing him back. The kiss lingered and then broke, only for their lips to meet again and again, each kiss hungrier than the last. Before he knew what was happening, his arms were around her waist, pulling her to his body. There was a polite clearing of the throat from Malech, and the moment was broken. Chase looked around to see the entire village staring at him. No one spoke. No one moved. Chase forgot how to breathe.

And then the assembly broke out in approving whistles, applause, and a few catcalls. Topaz was giggling in his arms and nuzzled into his chest. He blushed furiously but couldn’t stop smiling and made no move to break the contact. Topaz grabbed him by the hand and then they were practically running from the circle with happy hearts. As they squeezed by, Malech gave Chase an approving wink.

The genet led Chase pell-mell through the jungle and back towards the waterfall. He was breathless again when they reached it; however, this time she didn’t leap into the water. Instead, Topaz guided him around the pool and to the cliff over which the water tumbled. Squeezing through slick, moss-covered rocks, she led him through the darkness and behind the falls. The cave was nearly invisible if you didn’t know what you were looking for, but Topaz seemed to know instinctively where it was.

Squirming through a fissure barely shoulder wide, the pair suddenly burst into a small but homey cavern. Without needing to be told Chase could tell that this was a special place for the genet. It was decorated with colored blankets, cushions, and painted figures on the walls. Topaz lit a small lantern, and the cave filled with soft light.

Topaz stepped up and gave him another deep kiss. Her hands worked their way down to his waist and gently grasped his cock beneath his loin cloth where she found him achingly hard. His own hands traced down her back to grab her buttocks as they continued to kiss. She sighed happily and broke away. Then her loin cloth was on the floor. Chase fumbled to get the unfamiliar garment off but was soon free and naked with her. Topaz looked him up and down as if seeing his nakedness for the first time, an unmistakable and almost starving lust in her eyes.

For his part, Chase didn’t believe he’d ever seen a woman as beautiful as Topaz before. Her cream-colored belly fur ran from halfway up her neck, down over the swell of her breasts and down to the soft pink flesh between her legs. The dancing lantern flame seemed to make her spots shift and move and her eyes dance. Instinctively the two made their way to the cushioned floor. Topaz pushed Chase on to his back and swung her leg over his waist, mounting him. Their eyes met as she guided his shaft into her and the two moaned as one.

He was hard as iron, and his cock found her to be eager for him. Her hot wetness swallowed and squeezed him. And then she was rocking and grinding her hips on top of him. Slowly at first, they enjoyed each other, becoming faster and smoother as they learned each other’s bodies and movements. He guided her hips with his hands, squeezed her ass, and raked his claws down her back as pleasure coursed through his body. Chase gasped as she nipped at his neck and lower lip. Grinning wildly down at him, Topaz rode his cock with increasingly frantic pace. The wild dog craned his neck upward and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking gently and licking it with his tongue.

Topaz shuddered atop him, squeezing his cock, as her orgasm came, and she gasped his name into his mouth as their lips met.

“Chase…!”

The wild dog lay beneath her, happier than he’d ever been in his life. He went to pull her close, but she dismounted and moved away from him. He whined at the sudden loss of connection. Topaz grinned at him over her shoulder, crawling away on her hands and knees. Then she stopped, lifted her tail, and wiggled her rump at him.

Chase needed no more encouragement. Then he was behind her and inside her again, the cave filling with the soft slaps of his hips against her buttocks. Waves of pleasure crashed over them both with each thrust and, all too quickly, Chase felt his own orgasm coming. With a howl of pleasure, Chase’s came inside Topaz, filling her with his seed. As his body stopped quaking, he leaned down and kissed her softly along the back.

The two lovers laid down together and Chase held her until he softened and slipped out. Soon, she was snoring gently in his arms and Chase joined her in the peaceful oblivion of sleep.

[End part 1]