21

PART 3, with formatting corrections.

“We suffered major damage when we engaged the destroyer," Captain Anders said as he leaned over the command desk, a render of the frigate in a wireframe mode lighting up his features. “Decks ten through twelve have numerous hull breaches, and one of our reactors has been disconnected from the rest of the power grid. The quick reaction from our Balokarid engineers resulted in minimal crew casualties, at the least."

He brushed the surface of the image, the view changing to a systematic list of every ship they initially started out with, the rest of the officers looking on dejectedly as some of the green ships were recoloured to red, visualising their casualties. Lambert and Carl were there too, along with some of the other squadron leaders, a mix of both human and aliens crowding the bridge.

“We lost fourteen corvettes, and twenty-two Raptor interceptors. We have people looking for survivors, but so far only sixty percent of those who ejected were found in time. The gas clouds," Anders explained, looking towards the Kith. “What are the Balokarid casualties?"

“Forty-eight Sala'ci fighters have been destroyed," Shaliyya replied grimly. “A disheartening amount, but lower than I predicted."

“And the carriers?"

“No further damage, thanks to the brave actions of your Lieutenant." The Kith flashed Lambert a small smile. “This is the second time, mind you."

“We've lost over half of our forces," Anders replied. “A lot of brave men and women of the Hub and the Kaalesh clan gave their lives today. We achieved victory, but our losses leave little for celebration. We're in no position to continue with our previous mission, and we have chewed through too much fuel and ammo to sustain any prolonged presence here. We have no choice but to do what repairs we can, and head for Hub territory."

“Your ships can dry-dock in our carriers if you need the space," Shaliyya suggested. “We owe you that much."

“You don't owe us anything," the Captain replied. “You lost more than we did today, we were just here to help, but I will take you up on your offer nonetheless." Anders glanced at one of the officers. “What about the prisoners?"

“Five hundred accounted for thus far," the human replied, his gloved hands clasped together. “It's a little cramped in the brig, but it'll all be worth it once we start interrogations. At least we won't be known as merciless."

Lambert could feel Mezul's eyes on him, the tall alien giving him an infectious smile from across the room.

“Even Balokar will know of our exploits this day," Shaliyya said. “As soon as I am able, I will send word to the homeworld of the Hub- clan's exploits, you won't have trouble from any of my people from now on."

“We'll get to that, for now we'll focus on limping back to the Hub. I'll have a lot of explaining to do to the Senator…" Anders grumbled. “We'll keep searching for survivors for now, I'll send word when we're ready to get-"

A clunk as something heavy fell to the floor. Everyone looked toward the source of the noise in confusion, but Lambert was already moving, even pushing aside one of the officers against his better judgement, but respect be dammed.

Mezul had slumped over, keeling over on her left shoulder. Her eyelids were flittering, like she was in the middle of feinting.

“Mez?" he asked, supporting her back with one hand and turning her head with the other. When his hand left her neck, it came back dark with her blood. “Mezul!"

Her eyes flung open, the golden sclera narrowing as she focused on him. The other aliens were crowding all around him, one of them kneeling to help Lambert support Mezul's tremendous weight.

“Don't just stand there get a medic!" someone said.

Another sound of someone hitting the deck, Lambert turning to see Shaliyya fall on her butt, just saved from collapsing by the quick reflexes of her guard. Close by, yet another alien lost their balance, Ruvaara's beak welcoming the deck as she slumped over like she'd bled out. What was going on?

“Call Doctor Cairns," Anders said, a guard racing off. “Get them to the medbay, now!"

22

“I was afraid this would happen," Doctor Cairns said, clipboard in hand as she read over the fine print. “The translator implant has irritated the skin and brain, as a result of our rushed operation, despite my and the Balokarid team's efforts."

Mezul was propped up in a recovery bed, and like everything human, it was too small for her, her long, digitigrade legs dangling over the end of the mattress. Lambert and Carl, and a few others of her Sala'ci crew were present too. Ruvaara was in the next room over.

“Will she be alright?" Lambert asked.

“Her body tissue is rejecting the implant in a spherical shape around the translator, and the risk of infection is troubling. You will need to clean and dress your wound everyday properly, Mezul, for the foreseeable future."

“Can you not remove it?" Mezul asked. The Doctor pondered her question for a few seconds.

“I'm afraid it isn't that simple. There are only a handful of cases where a human has had his or her implants removed, the procedure is more delicate than installing, and isn't supposed to be removed. And your case is unique to put it lightly. I cannot authorise a procedure until both your medical personnel and my own are suitably experienced, the risk of further, more permanent damage is too great, even if the rejection continues to develop. We'd only make things worse at this point."

“I understand," Mezul replied. “Thank you, Doctor."

Cairns nodded solemnly, her shame not directed at anyone present, it was more inward – this was exactly what she warned everyone would happen, but she still felt the blame. “Press this button here if you need anything, I'll be back in an hour to check on you."

With that, the Doctor left, Lambert taking her spot by Mezul's side. He hadn't gotten a chance to talk to her properly since the shooting stopped, and his friend seemed to know that, Carl waving the rest of the aliens to follow him.

“Come on, ladies," Carl said. “I think these two need a moment."

He flashed Lambert a wink, leading the posse as they filed out of the room, the door sliding shut behind them.

“This is all my fault," Lambert began when they were alone, the alien blinking at him. Even propped up on the bed she was still eye- level with him. “I got the idea of an implant in your head, and now you're…"

He gestured at the white wrappings around the side of her neck, the red of her blood contrasting with her blue feathers.

“Don't give me that," Mezul began. “I knew the risks, every Balokarid who wanted a translator did. These are the consequences, and now I must deal with them."

“I think I'm more worried than you are," he chuckled nervously. “Even though I'm not the one bleeding."

“Sometimes people say things just to sound brave when they really aren't," Mezul said, her feathers twitching in agitation. “I've never been good with the sight of my own blood, I'm scared to look."

“And… what you said back there," Lambert began slowly, distracted by those golden coins of her eyes. “Were you just… saying things?"

“Which part?" she asked, knowing full well what he meant, but she wanted him to say it.

“The part when you said you… loved, me?" he stuttered that second last word, but he pushed on. “Was that true? Or were you just trying to convince me to spare the Feds? I wouldn't blame you if you did, you were right to make me back down."

The alien looked down as she picked idly at the sheets. “No. No _as in, I was speaking the truth," she corrected. “I wanted to say something earlier, but I was afraid we'd both become distracted if I confessed. I was also afraid you didn't… feel the same way about me. You're not a Balokarid, I don't know if you find any of this…" She gestured at herself awkwardly. “if you found me… _attractive."

Lambert was beside himself, seeing this alien pilot getting all flustered of a sudden was making his heart beat like a drum.

“But then I saw you were about to destroy yourself, attacking the defenceless ship, so I had to say something, and that's what came out." She chuckled. “I don't know if it could work, maybe it can't, but do you… why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, tilting her head in confusion. “Is that a reciprocating smile? Do you think there is something more between us?"

“I told you I like my women with flight experience," he said. “So… yeah, I reciprocate."

Her headdress bristled to its full length, her arms coming up and pulling him into her embrace. Her cool beak rested against the nape of his neck, her feathery coat tickling him as he put his arms around her. The angle was awkward given that he was standing and she was laying down, but they made it work.

She pulled back, one hand going to her head to try and suppress her erupting headdress. “I thought I would have to take some fentula to work up the nerve," she laughed. “But all it took was taking on a battlefleet. You're so strange, your skin, your little snout, your hair. Do I look… good, to you as well?"

“You look perfect," he said, not missing a beat. She turned her face away from him, a shy smile on her beak.

“Smooth talker. Should we… I guess we can figure out the… finer details later, when there's more privacy."

He was certain of his feelings towards her, but how exactly would they make it work? He hadn't gotten a look at her this whole time without her flightsuit, what parts did she have? At least the feelings were out in the open now, he had to admit the initial curiosity that day he'd wandered onto their carrier had bloomed into something more, and it felt right to finally relieve himself of the building tension.

He hadn't been with anyone in a long time now, would it be anything similar to what humans do? Mezul interlocked her hand with his own and squeezed it, apparently reading his expression as easily as she had read his psyche.

“Let's leave the thinking to later, Lambert, and just…"

She didn't finish her thought, her forehead bumping with his with a soft clunk, her cold beak touching his warm skin. There would be battles ahead for both of them, but in that moment there was nothing else but her, and Lambert felt like they'd earned a quiet moment at last.

23

Lambert smoothed out his flightsuit sleeves as he pushed the joystick forward, the cloudy nebula gently losing its density through the still cracked and damaged canopy. After picking up the survivors and what limited scrap remained from the UEC fleet, the Hub forces had turned for home. With no more need for reconnaissance,

Lambert's missile corvette had an entirely new, unique role to fill. “You look nervous," Mezul commented, her wide hips

squeezed into the co-pilot's chair behind him. Just above the collar of her spacesuit he could see the edge of a bandage, the white fabric covering the spot where her implant was. She'd been allowed out of the medical bay after Captain Ander's insistence, though why he was taking an interest in her was a mystery to the alien.

“I've got both our superiors on board, you'd be too if you were behind the stick," he replied. For whatever reason the Captain had thought Lambert's corvette would be the most appropriate to use as a shuttle, given his extensive interactions with the Balokarids. The Kith likewise thought that the corvette had a certain 'diplomatic profile' with her people, saying as much when she got on board.

“You'll be fine," Mezul said, her arm long enough that she could lay a hand on his shoulder without moving. “You flew through railgun and missile fire with barely a scratch, you can dodge a few clouds."

“I guess I am the better pilot," he said, laughing when Mezul nudged his shoulder playfully.

“Oh ho, is that a challenge? Perhaps we could hold a race at your Hub world?"

“We do tournaments from time to time," he said. “Tell you what, we'll enter the next race and the winner has to buy the other one dinner."

“You're implying we will be sharing meals together?" Mezul teased, a hand going to her injured neck. It was an unconscious move on her part, and his mood soured a little upon seeing it.

“Well, I know you like human food, and wherever they bunk you lot I'll be visiting often. What else would we do?" he asked.

“I can think of a few things…"

He pulled up his collar to drive off a sudden heat, even though it was firmly secured in place, the Balokarid chuckling as he patched through to Carl. “How're our passengers doing?"

“We're like a VIP luxury liner back here," Carl replied after a delay. “Lucky I ironed my uniform, there's so many officers back here."

“Your uniform is more wrinkly than an old man's forehead," Alice noted, the tone so deadpan and factual Lambert couldn't help but snort. “That is not ironed."

“Fuck you, robolady, you don't have arms so you can't talk. Lambert are we there yet?"

“Almost. Tell the Cap we're fifteen minutes out."

“Roger that."

The nebula's clouds that choked space in every direction were beginning to thin out the further they travelled. The violet colouration started to confer to more blueish shades, the spectacle like that of a messy artist's palette. The gaps between the mists of energy widened until they faded into nothingness, the way ahead safe from concentrated gasses that could melt through the hull.

They sailed over one last cloud, and then his sensors came fully back online, the grainy static of his external cameras fizzling until they calmed into crisp images, the false pings and anomalies blinking out one by one on the tac view between his knees, the clutch of interference lifting. After so long crammed between the clouds, it was like he could finally breathe again, the limitless expanse of the dark void stretching out infinitely through his circular-shaped canopy, the intimidating emptiness of the dark space contrasting with the nebula's packed clouds of energy.

“There it is," Lambert said, nodding through the glass.

“What?" Mezul squinted over his shoulder, her golden eyes narrowing to slits. “I don't see anything."

“I thought your drugs helped you see better?"

“Do I look like I've taken a whiff to you?" Before he could answer she leaned closer to the canopy again, glancing occasionally at the camera feeds surrounding them. “How can your tiny mammal eyes see it? Whatever it is?"

“I just remember where it is from this angle," he explained. “It'll come up on that camera there in a minute."

“Can you not just zoom in?"

“That would just spoil the surprise."

“Tease," she said, her accusation betrayed by her smile. “I hate surprises."

They waited for a few minutes longer, until something metal came into focus ahead of them. The light from the system's star catching on a distinctly curved shape.

Its profile was like that of a grey bracelet, gently spinning away out in the middle of space. Its broad width was silhouetted against the sun, the shadowed hull bumpy with life support modules and thousands of radio antennae and communication dishes. The outer side of the band tapered into curves at the edges, where the thick metal sloped up towards the interior surface, strips of light spilling through hundreds of viewing ports lining the outer surface.

The sloped sides raised to two level peaks, cutting off at flat roofs. The metal then turned back towards the inside of the bracelet's surface, creating a pair of canopies made from solid metal that trapped the artificial atmosphere created on the band's interior side. In between these canopies sat a torus-shaped furrow that continued around the entirety of the station, where pointed roofs and sloped housing modules textured the inside surfaces. Blocks of structures both tall and squat grew in detail as the corvette drew closer, two pairs of roads distinctly clear for the inhabitants to travel up and down the station, street lights illuminating the walkways in a pair of clear lines.

Floating in the epicentre of the ring was a ship that looked similar to the tanker the UEC had been escorting. It was a blocky vessel, with a rounded rear housing a single main thruster that was currently switched off, and a pointed cap where the yellow-tinted cockpit could just be made out. It looked a lot like an oversized escape pod in a way. There were four circular panels evenly distributed along its sides, the odd vessel rotating in time with the spinning station.

Mezul mumbled something in her native language, Lambert turning to see her eyes were as wide as plates as she stared out at the ringworld that slowly grew in size.

“Welcome to the Hub," Lambert said. “surprised?"

“Amazed," Mezul breathed. As the ship drew closer they got a better look at the inside of the ring, where patches of green and blue mixed with the more dominant spartan greys. “What is that ship in the middle for?"

“That's the actual Hub, where the station gets its name from, obviously. It's restricted to most people, with a secure airspace around it. You see those circles on the ring?"

Mezul scanned the ring, spotting small impressions trimmed into the band at all four points of the compass. They weren't obvious at a glance, built discreetly into the ringworld's surface and blending with the rest of the architecture. They were like metallic crop circles.

“I do," she replied.

“The Hub, the ship in the middle that is, can extend four separate arms that connect to those circles, so that the station can be moved around. It's never done that in my lifetime, so the ship is just there for politicians to meet up privately."

“And you live on this ring… thing?" Mezul asked. “Do you not just fall off?"

“Remember that whole artificial gravity thing I was telling you about?" he asked. “The spin gives us roughly one-g gravity, and those giant walls there? They keep the air trapped between them."

“It's as big as a moon!" Mezul exclaimed. “How long did it take to build such a thing?"

“I think they started building it, what, two hundred years ago? I'd have to check with Alice."

“Two hundred and nineteen," the robot confirmed.

“Right, two nineteen."

Mezul got the impression that it was quite a long period, her beak opening the way a human might drop their jaw in awe, Lambert chuckling as she glanced between him and the station.

“Lieutenant Hall," a voice patched through suddenly. It was Captain Anders, talking through Carl's station. “I've sent the proper clearance codes, the Senator is waiting for us at docking bay four, airlock fifteen."

“On the way, sir." He tilted the corvette, gliding downspin of the station. “Looks like we'll be meeting with the Senator," he explained to Mezul. “She hardly ever leaves the Hub actual, looks like you've got her old bones warmed up."

“Is she your Kith?" she asked.

“She's the face of this whole revolution, so… yeah, I suppose she is. She can be a little… crude when she hasn't got a camera in front of her, but I'm sure she appreciates your support in the nebula, wants to thank you personally."

“Strange," Mezul said. “It is your support that saved our clan."

Several other warships patrolled around various parts of the station, Lambert gliding a little closer upon Mezul's request. There were frigates just like the Gallipoli, fighters and other patrol craft sticking in tight formation as they cruised along. Most of the larger ships stuck around the defence platforms – flat, disk-shaped vessels

that acted as deterrents against hostile craft. They were equipped with two railguns not so dissimilar from the one on the Confederate destroyer, one on the top face and one on the bottom, giving them the widest firing arcs as possible. There were three platforms in total, the third currently hidden behind the station at their angle.

“You have some heavy defence emplacements here," Mezul commented.

“They're more like early-warning systems," Lambert explained. “Completely stationary, so they're easy targets. And all these ships you see are converted from the UEC, we haven't got the production power just yet to start churning out our own."

“This is what my people plan on offering yours," Mezul said. “I hope your Senator can be persuaded by my Kith."

“You've got my and every other pilot's vote, and the Captain's definitely on board too. I wouldn't worry about it."

He gently angled the corvette until they lined up with their designated port, Lambert allowing Alice to take the reins and guide them in. Like the Balokarid carriers, the ring's hull was pocked with square-shaped doors, numbers stencilled in red colouring on each hangar door.

There were no other ships in this particular bay. The Senator obviously wanted to keep the aliens away from the public for now. The corvette flipped until its cargo bay doors faced the station, the computer matching the spin so that nothing appeared to move save for the stars. There was a clunk as the ship made contact with the station's hull, and then everything went still, the hangar doors sliding shut with a loud thunk.

Mezul let out an unbecoming squawk as the centrifugal force pulled her down into her seat, the alien not quite used to manmade gravity just yet. The pilots unbuckled from their chairs, walking out into the corridor beyond, where the Kith and the Captain were already waiting for them.

“With me, Lieutenant," Captain Anders said. “You as well, Mezul." They glanced at each other before following after, wondering why they had to come along. Talons and boots clicked on the steps as the group made their way down to the cargo bay, Carl waving them goodbye.

“We'll be here," Alice added, its voice coming from a speaker in the nearby wall. The cargo ramp was already lowered, red lights spilling in from the airlock just beyond. The procession waited out the depressurising, and when the hissing of air faded, they removed their helmets as the opposing doors opened, harsh, white light spilling in from the corridor beyond.

Three humans were standing in the passageway waiting for them. Two of them were clad in full combat armour, their guns resting in their chest slings, while the third wore more professional attire. The woman was wearing a thick, blue coat that ended just above her knees, her hands melded in front of the big, golden buttons pinned to her front.

Her pants were crisply ironed, matching the colour of her coat, her black dress shoes clicking on the ground as she adjusted her footing. She wore a pendant round her neck, the artwork embellished on the silver disk was made up entirely of differently coloured dots, rather than strokes, the reds and yellows forming swirling patterns Lambert didn't recognise.

The woman's dark hair was tied up in a bun, the brown interrupted here and there by flecks of grey, hinting at her age. Her dark complexion was trenched with lines, but that only seemed to harden her expression, like an old war veteran. Beneath her eyes and on her lips was a fresh, black layer of makeup, expertly applied to make her look younger than she really was.

“Captain Anders," the woman began. “tell me how you can run into not just a Confederate fleet, but an alien one at the exact same time? Isn't space fucking huge?"

Mezul wasn't expecting the curse word, and neither was the Kith, the aliens cocking their heads at the crude introduction.

“It was a million to one shot, Senator," Anders replied. “Any slight deviation in our timetable and we might have missed them altogether."

The Senator stepped forward, looking Shaliyya up and down with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. The alien was nearly twice her height, but she studied the Kith like she was inspecting a recruit, her reaction not as colourful as Lambert's was, maybe the Captain had given her forewarning.

“From the reports the Captain sent me, you must be the Balokarid leader," the Senator said. “My name is Ellin Astera, but you can call me Senator."

“Shaliyya, Kith of the Kaalesh. It is an honour to meet you at last, Senator," Shaliyya replied, bowing her head. “From what your Navy tells me, you are the fist behind your clan's revolution. But just because you fight for your independence, does not mean you must fight alone, and it is my intention to consolidate our clan with yours."

“I like this one," Astera said, looking back at the Captain and nodding slowly. “What exactly does this 'consolidating' entail?"

“We have demonstrated to your fleet that we can increase your production capabilities tenfold, we have thousands of engineers on standby ready to work in tandem with your own construction crews. We will also share our shielding technology with you, something your Captain has expressed great interest in."

“You're giving away a lot, Kith," Astera said. “I've had the unfortunate pleasure of witnessing that generosity is the gateway of either the desperate, or the duplicitous. Do you want nothing in return?"

The alien looked around at the furnished floor, the painted walls, her beak clicking quietly as she mulled. “I would ask for a favour. Two, actually. A place to stay permanently on this station, and a chance to fight the Confederacy, those are my terms."

The Senator looked like she was always frowning, it was hard to tell if she was angry or confused, perhaps both. “That's it? You want to join us in this war, in exchange for asylum?"

“Trivial to you, Senator, but my people are already at war, we have fought and died alongside your soldiers only days ago. You would be doing us all a great service."

The old woman scratched her chin, contemplating the offer. Lambert already knew the answer, everyone did, but perhaps the Senator was considering some other political implication only she was aware of.

“We'll have to come up with a new flag design," Astera mumbled. “Should call this agreement something more informal than 'consolidation'. Something like… I don't know, an Alliance? Yes?" She looked back at her guards, one of them nodding. “Alliance it is. We'll have to assign a quadrant for Balokarids only, settle yourselves in before migrating you to the general populace. Maybe upscale the apartments twofold…" The Senator judged Shaliyya's height. “Threefold, just to be on the safe side. We'll iron out the details later. Now, you two."

Astera turned to Lambert, the man perking up as she approached. “Lieutenant Hall and Mezul, yes? I read in the Captain's report that you both were vital in turning the tide of the battle?"

“We were just following our orders, ma'am," Lambert said.

“Don't be so modest," Anders said. “Despite being low on ammo and outnumbered, you engaged in a second hit and run and destroyed several key targets. That's not following orders, that's exceeding them."

“And the shielding screen," Astera said, turning to Mezul. “That was your idea?"

“I brought it before the Captain at one point," Mezul said with a nod. “Our shields could withstand at least one more strike than your ships could, so a screen was an obvious tactic."

“You got balls, Mezul," Astera said. “Ramming into explosives on purpose. I wouldn't want you as my pilot, no offense implied."

Mezul gave Lambert a glance. “Balls?" she whispered.

“I have a new assignment for you both," Astera continued, reaching into her coat. “You two seem to work well together. Well I say seem, I mean definitely. If humans and Balokarids are going to be fighting and flying together in this Alliance, they'll need people who are experts in the mixed species tactics department."

“That's a department?" Lambert asked.

“Of course it is, you two are its founders." From her coat she produced a small case, flicking it open with her thumb. The inside was lined with a velvety material, and sitting on a small cushion inside was a pair of badges. Their design was a side-on perspective of the Hub, the station wreathed between a pair of long feathers.

“Is that the Hub flag?" Lambert asked, picking one up. The insignias were coloured in a dim gold that bordered on bronze, the subtle gaps between the grooves painted black. “Why are there feathers and not antlers?"

“We had to rush out a design before you came on board, it was that or a couple of doves. Represent our avian friends." Astera waved an impatient hand. “I hope that doesn't offend you, Mezul, I'll fire whoever came up with it if it does."

“It's fine, they're very beautiful," Mezul said, lifting her badge to the light. She knew how to work the mag-pin immediately, fixing it just above her left breast, Lambert doing the same.

“I've never seen badges like these before," Lambert mused.

Astera put her case away and gestured at him and his partner.

“That's because Commander wasn't a formal rank in our Navy until now. You'll both receive officers accommodations here on the Hub while we prep you a training ground. From now on you'll be responsible for getting our new pilots up to speed on working with our different species, once your people have had some time to settle in and get used to the station, of course."

Lieutenant straight to Commander? It was quite the jump, and Lambert couldn't believe it. He wouldn't have to live on a cramped frigate anymore. He looked to the Captain, who grinned back at his expression.

“You earned it, Lieut…. Commander," Anders said. “I also wanted to award you and Lieutenant Morales with a Citation of Valour, but we'll save the parades until the crew's got some shore leave."

The Valour Citation was one of the highest medals that could be awarded to a Navy officer. Carl would be having a field day once he found out. “I don't know what to say, Senator." Lambert blinked at the woman, who stared back at him in a distinctly impatient way.

“Say whatever you want. Say yes, no, let me ask my parents first, it doesn't matter, because I need two Commanders to train our recruits, and you're it until I find someone better. Questions?"

“Can Carl come along too? As my weapon's expert?"

Astera looked at him in the way anyone would when asked a stupid question. “It's your department, do what you want."

“What about me?" Alice asked, close enough she could wirelessly activate his suit speakers. “Am I to be transferred as well? I have been known to increase your general efficiency in times of duress."

“Who the hell is that?" Astera asked, her brow furrowing at where the voice was coming from.

“That's the AI, Senator," Captain Anders explained. “The one you assigned to me, who I assigned to the Commander here."

“Ah that's right. Well what did you think of it, Commander?

Was it helpful at all on your mission, or was it just a waste of time on my part?"

Lambert didn't understand how she was so relaxed about potentially reintroducing AI to the military, like it was some side project he got dumped with. His answer would at the least, influence the Senator's decision to keep on enlisting AI's to the Hub, and then where would it stop? Maybe, a part of him thought, he was just being paranoid? Its helpfulness couldn't be denied.

“I…" he stuttered, Mezul sparing him a conspicuous glance from the edge of his vision. “I guess it pulled our butts out of the fire a couple times during the mission. Wouldn't be here without it."

“Good to hear," Astera said. “We'll need all hands on deck for this war. I'll have our techs check its subsystems for any anomalies, but consider Alice your new assistant, Commander, we should monitor it for a while longer before making any final descisions."

Lambert didn't show a reaction, partly because he didn't really know what to think of this new development. At least it would help deal with any paperwork that would come up.

The Senator turned to Mezul. “And what about you? Are you up to the task?"

“Of course, Senator. You're very generous."

“I wish everyone I gave work to said that," Astera chuckled. “Come with me, I'll show you where your quarters will be. I'm afraid we've only got human-sized rooms," Astera added, craning her neck so she could meet Mezul's eyes. “But I've reserved one of the more specious apartments upspin. Let's go have a look."

24

The Senator led them through breach door after breach door, Lambert and Mezul behind her, and her two bodyguards behind them. The service tunnels that made up the sides of the station were long and windy tunnels of metal, splitting off into the hundreds of service areas hidden beneath the public eye. These areas were clearly marked and wide enough for five men to walk side by side, though Mezul did have to duck to avoid bumping her head on a jutting piece of metal from time to time.

These service paths were commonly used to transfer personnel to and from the hangars, with the occasional lift and staircase leading down to the warrens, where all the life and water systems that kept the ringworld operating resided.

At regular intervals a path would lead off directly to their left, where the tunnels would bring them out onto the outside itself, but the Senator didn't even glance at them, leading the two new Commanders further upspin. The fine curvature of the floor was almost nonexistent, but the way it gently sloped up and away in the distance made it obvious they were walking along the inside of a ring.

“The military quadrant will have to be your people's home temporarily," Astera said as they walked, eventually turning to face a set of elevator doors, the woman hitting the up button, her two guards cramming in after Mezul struggled into the lift. She almost plugged the box like a cork with her size, leaning a considerable amount of her weight on Lambert. “News is already out about you, but I prefer you stay near where we can locate you quickly. Fortunately there's an apartment complex just outside the quadrant, a minute's walk from the closest barracks. Commander Hall will keep an eye on you at all times."

“No problem there," Lambert said, Mezul glancing over to see him staring directly at her ass.

They arrived at their specified deck, the procession squeezing out and into a T-shaped hallway, each path lined with doorways with numbers on them. The Senator walked up the northern branch, stopping at the far door, marked 201.

She swiped a keycard through the lock, the door opening with a click, Mezul ducking through while the humans just walked inside.

The first thing Lambert saw was a view of the habitat, the huge expanse of pseudo-urban housings curving away below them, the entire north face of the apartment made of glass. There was a wooden dining table right in the middle, with a marble kitchen on the left and a pair of leather couches on the right, positioned in front of a wall- mounted television. Walls to the side corners of the space sectioned off other rooms, the presence of wood and plaster a breath of fresh air to Lambert, who'd been living in metal barracks' for most of his career.

“Two bedrooms with accompanying en suites," Astera announced, leaning a hand on the marble kitchen counter. “A spare room in the back with terminals hooked up to the military network, all current pilot dossiers currently on file for your inspection, and a clean view."

Mezul was stepping tentatively on a section of the white carpet near the couches, her talons feeling up the soft texture, while Lambert was standing by one of the support columns, a terminal built into the strut that provided an adjustable ambient temperature and lighting settings, even an audio mixer was available through a Bluetooth setting. The two guards were looking around in awe, he could tell they were impressed behind their expressionless visors. The place was like a palace.

“This is… amazing, Senator," Lambert said, eyeing one of the potted plants sitting in one of the corners. He touched the leaf and was surprised to see it wasn't plastic.

“Of course it is," Astera replied. “A place fit for Commanders, and I hope we all plan on keeping it that way. It's not too small for you, is it Mezul?"

The Balokarid shook her beak, despite her feathery headdress just grazing the ceiling wherever she went. “I will be fine, thank you. How soon until we can begin… Commanding? If that is the word?"

“While I can appreciate a woman of action," Astera began. “we'll have to wait to get your carriers offloaded before you can begin your program, get your people acclimated. Here are your keys." She passed the two a pair of cards. “Don't lose them. And until I say it is safe to do so, Mezul I would appreciate it if you kept indoors until the populace calms down. It's not that I fear something may happen to you, but none of these people have fought with you in a battle like Lambert here has."

“I understand, Senator," Mezul began, touching Lambert on the arm. “Lambert here can keep me company until I can explore your station."

Astera looked from the alien to Lambert, a knowing look on her face as the corner of her lips turned up. “Then I'll leave you two to it. Come on," she said to her guards, the humans following her out, one of them letting his weapon hang in its sling as he shut the door.

“You sure this place isn't too small for you?" Lambert asked, watching as Mezul ran a nail over the armrest of a couch.

“You saw how cramped my Sala'ci was, this is nothing." Mezul gave him a dismissive wave, moving over to the TV and just missing the arch by an inch. “What is this material on the floor here? It feels like your hair."

“Carpet, it's made from a soft plant," Lambert explained. He stood by the window while Mezul explored the rest of the apartment, drinking in the sight. They were about five storeys up from the habitat's 'ground' floor, the stretch of greys interspersed with patches of green, the designers of the station adding a bit of colour to the artificial landscape.

The curved world stopped abruptly at a wall on the far side of the ring, where the opposing canopy towered hundreds of meters into the sky, the top just visible below the ceiling of the apartment. The atmosphere trapped between the sheer faces created a strange haze above the ring, where the Galaxy could be seen without interruption, the system's harsh star simulating a daytime one would find on a planet.

Looking left, Lambert's eyes followed the ring as it curved into the horizon, gently sloping up and thinning into a band. The landscape slowly lost its definition as the ring distanced, his eyes going upward as he followed the station's arc.

It was dizzying watching as the station swept into the sky, knowing that from this perspective the people living up there were standing sideways. The opposite side of the ring was temporarily blocked by the Hub, the diameter of the ring stretching on for kilometres, and then the station finally looped back round to the other side, the buildings and streets coming back into focus.

He felt Mezul's hands come to rest on his shoulders, her long talons almost reaching his chest. Her arms were cool to the touch, the rubbery material pressing against his skin as she leaned on him from behind.

“Your station is amazing," she said, craning her long neck down so that her beak was level with his face. Her head turned in a circle as she likewise studied the station. “What you humans lack in size, you make up for it in technological wonders."

“And we just got the best seats in the house," he said. “No more cramped crew quarters for us."

“I have something for you," Mezul said, her hands falling away. He turned around and couldn't help but stare at what he saw. Mezul had slipped out of her flightsuit at some point. Gone were the vambrace coverings securing her arms and wings, the long displays of feathers sweeping up along her limbs, folded beneath their protective sheaths, their iridescent tips ending just above and beside her feathery elbows.

Her torso had also been shed of some of its bulkier parts, Mezul now sporting a chrome tank top made from some kind of polymer, the plates segmented around her waist so as to not limit her range of motion. It looked a little like a medieval cuirass, the plates curving in a way that accentuated her curves.

She also wore a skirt that hugged her waist loosely, the blue cloth cut into two knee-length strips that covered her front and back, while leaving the lower half of her thighs bare. Her flared hips were covered by a pair of small plates that connected to her chestplate.

It was the first time he got a look at her legs properly. Her thighs were muscular powerhouses as thick around as Lambert's torso, concealed beneath her coat of sparkling black and blue feathers. Her veneer of feathers ended at her knees, giving way to darker, more scaley flesh that made up her lower legs. They curved into their odd, digitigrade shape, her feet ending in three talons that reminded him a little of Velociraptor feet, long and sharp and the colour of onyx.

There was a wave of sudden colour, the wings on Mezul's arms unfurling to show off their blue and black palette in full, their wingspan adding meters to her width, Mezul manipulating them like she was about to perform a fan dance. The way they seemed to sparkle in the light was oddly mesmerising.

After so long wearing such a bulky spacesuit, it looked like she was practically bare in comparison. Every inch of her save from her knees down was covered in her azure feathers, and he wondered if her concealed parts were also like that.

“My gift is up here," she teased, blinking her eyes at him as he lifted his gaze from her legs, his cheeks flush with embarrassment. She smiled playfully as she held something up in her hand.

“What's that?" He stepped closer, seeing she was clutching something boxy between her nails. She held it out to him for a better look, and his jaw dropped. “My MP3! How the hell did you…?"

She laughed as he took it from her, holding it up and inspecting the casing. There should be a bullet hole right in the middle, yet the damage was gone, and a tap on the power button confirmed it was working, his familiar playlists right there on the menu.

“The human who installed the radio on my Sala'ci had a way with electronics, so I had him take a look at it after the battle," she explained. “It took him a while, but he said he was glad for the distraction, said he hadn't worked on simple tech in a long time.

Didn't even ask for repayment, which I've come to expect from you humans."

“I could kiss you, Mez," Lambert said. “Check this out, we can hook it up to the surround sound system using this terminal."

He made his way back to the column with the built-in screen, quickly connecting the music player with the speakers spread throughout the apartment, classical music coming through from every direction.

“What's a kiss?" Mezul asked, watching him play with the volume.

“It's something partners do," Lambert said. “A way for humans to show affection."

“And you wish to do it with me?" Mezul asked in a low, playful tone.

Lambert felt his face go red, turning to see her standing right behind him “What?"

“You wish to kiss me?" she elaborated, her smirk growing as he nodded silently. “How does it work?"

“Well, first you… you know what, I'll just show you."

Mezul watched as he slowly brought his arms up, cupping her beak by the sides where her cheeks would be if she were human. She blinked her dilated eyes as she let him bring her down until they were eye-level, the alien practically leaning over to do so.

“Close your beak," he asked, and she shut her snout obediently, her expression best being described as alarmed desire. He brought his face forward, his hands still cupping her beak as he pressed his lips against her snout. Her beak looked like it would feel hard and rough, but he was surprised to find it was soft, with a little give behind it when he pressed down, much like rubber. The texture was smooth like glass, made up with scales so small he would need a microscope to see them, her beak parting a little as he pressed deeper.

Her headdress erupted to stand taller than he'd ever seen it before, adding half a meter to her overall height, Lambert smiling behind his kiss before gently pulling away with a quiet smack of his lips. Mezul crooned out a “Krrrawwt," –sound as she blinked down at him, not quite touching the place he'd kissed her with a nail.

“Did you… like, that?" he stuttered, not sure of her reaction. “I… may need another demonstration," Mezul said, this time

taking the lead as she leaned into him. Lambert held her at bay, though, her headdress twitching with irritation as he put a hand on her torso.

“Hold on lady, this time, open your mouth during it," Lambert said, his heart racing as she pushed him into the support, her hands on his shoulders. Once more her beak met his lips, and when Lambert pried at her mouth with his tongue, she opened them, his organ delving in and exploring as much as he could, tracing her thin, long teeth with slow strokes, noticing that her mouth was lined with blue flesh, not pink like a humans.

Mezul caught onto the idea quickly, her own tongue coiling around his, trapping it like a snake traps its prey, her strange taste sending shivers down his back. Her beak parted a little more, her tongue sliding its way into his mouth, deftly painting the roof and sides of his mouth until his cheeks bulged. He knew her tongue must be long given the length of her beak, but it just kept coming, Lambert gagging reflexively as she glanced his throat with it.

She drew back a little, not entirely, but enough that she could reach every inch of his palate without him suffocating. She leaned her weight on his chest, one hand slipping behind his head to deepen their contact. Lambert's head was spinning like a top, his partner continuing to drag on her lurid kiss.

She finally released him, their mouths smacking audibly as they separated, Mezul's headdress bristling like a startled porcupine. Her eyes were slightly lidded as she looked him over, tracing his jawline with one of her nails.

“I changed my mind," she said. “Surprises are fine."

The two laughed, Lambert cupping the side of her face, feeling the impossibly soft feathers brush his fingers, little bits of dust from Dur'shala still lingering on her.

“I've got a question," he asked, pointing at her head. “your headdress."

“My…?" She touched the back of her head, the same way a woman might fix her hair. “What about it?"

“Why do you move it like that?" he asked. “You never keep it still for more than a few seconds."

“I can't really control it," she explained. “Depending on my mood I can influence certain patterns and signals, not unlike the subtle body languages of you humans. This one right now means I'm… excited."

“But I've seen you do that particular wave before, like back on your carrier, when I touched your feathers the first time. Were you… feeling then what you're feeling now?"

“Did the idea not cross your mind as well?" she asked. “You were so strange and alien, and when we confirmed you were male, well… there was a moment I considered the thought." She put her forehead to his, forcing him to stare her in the eyes. “I saw the way you reacted when you found out I was female. Maybe I wasn't alone in my way of thinking?"

He titled his head to the side, as if to say maybe so. She licked him across the cheek, her beak slowly crawling across his nose and cheeks until it reached his ear, Mezul nipping at the earlobe as she whispered: “Now that we're alone, we can put those thoughts into practice, can't we?"

“When you put it that way…" He peeked over her feathered arm. “I didn't get a good look at where the bedroom is."

“Is it the one with the cushions shaped like a square?" she asked, Lambert nodding. “There's two, the closest is the door on the right."

“Let's… go then," he said, ducking beneath her outstretched arms, the alien following behind him with a distinctly more desirous gaze as she played her eyes over him. He fumbled at his collar, pulling down the zipper that held his flightsuit up, exposing his rubbery underclothes. It was also held up by a zipper, Lambert the garment peeling away to expose his shoulders and torso. He had a strict exercise regimen that seemed to please the Balokarid, the man looking over to see her admiring his muscular back.

As he fumbled with the belt that secured the upper half of the suit from the lower, he eyed the spacious bedroom before him, easily as lavish as the rest of the apartment, with a pair of bedside dressers accompanying a king-sized double mattress, equipped with more pillows than seemingly necessary.

He felt a little self-conscious as he worked at his belt, Mezul's golden eyes playing over his body as she walked with a slow, deliberate gate that was eye-catching in its sensuality. Her hips rolled heavily with each stride of her long legs, like a model walking down a runway, the strips of cloth on her waist clinging to the inside of her thighs, slipping against her soft flesh with each step.

Just as he was about to slip off his belt, there was a loud bang, Lambert looking up to see Mezul clutching her head. She'd hit the top of the doorway with her face. “Ow, that hurt…"

Lambert tried not to laugh as he touched her on the arm. “You okay? I thought you said the apartment was big enough."

“I was… distracted," she admitted, her gaze wandering over his naked torso. “It's been a while since I've watched a male strip down in front of me."

“Well, I'm not a stripper, Mez. And I'm not giving you a lap dance if that's what you're after." He pointed a finger at her.

“Don't put ideas in my head," she said, gesturing to his leggings. “Please, continue."

He could feel her eyes on him as he moved his hands towards his belt. The flightsuit was one piece of attire, and so he had to slip one leg out at a time, Lambert hopping on one foot as he pried his foot out of his boot. He then realised he could probably just sit on the bed and make things easier, so he did, his legs soon free of the equipment.

Now all he was wearing was a pair of briefs ending just above his knees, where a noticeable bulge was straining against the middle of the fabric, Lambert placing one of his hands protectively over his underwear like he was afraid they might fall off.

“You're so… smooth and pink," Mezul said, taking a few steps closer. The way he had to look up to meet her covetous gaze made his stomach swim with butterflies. She sat down on the mattress next to him, the bed sinking with her tremendous weight, not that she was fat, she was eight feet of muscle and feathers, built like all pilots are.

Lambert's cheeks started to warm as he was forced to lean into her, grabbing her by the thigh to brace himself. The flesh of her leg spilled wonderfully between his fingers, as soft as cookie dough, but they hid the powerful muscles needed to keep her large frame upright. The Balokarid took him by the shoulder as she ran her talons over his skin, tracing random shapes through the hair on his chest, admiring his biceps and his back. “Covered in little hairs," she mumbled. “even muscle distribution, plenty of visible veins…"

“You sound like you're doing an examination," Lambert noted.

“My carrier's medical staff were eager to see you entirely, and so am I." He flinched as she brushed over one of his nipples, the alien blinking her eyes at his reaction. “Oh, you have nipples? Are you sure you're a male?"

“D-Don't you guys have them too?"

“Our male's don't. That's… strange. Quite strange. What do they do? Do you lactate?"

“No! They're for… well I don't know what they're for, it's a mammal thing."

“Well, I'm certain this will intrigue my people," Mezul said, pressing the feathery underside of her finger against his other bicep. “They seem sensitive enough…"

“Quit playing with my nips," he said, slapping her hand away. “You're not going to report on everything we're about to do?"

“Purely for the advancement of knowledge," Mezul replied, her attempt at being formal betrayed by her growing smile. “I'll keep some of you for myself, of course. Now, what about this cloth?"

She tugged on his briefs, Lambert hesitating as he slipped a finger beneath the waistband. Mezul was watching his concealed crotch with the same expression she had when she smelt the cooking food back on the frigate. He pulled down his remaining clothing, kicking them off his feet and leaving him completely bare before the alien.

“… Hmm," Mezul said, her eyes tracing over his erection.

“That's it?" he asked. “That's all you've got to say? 'Hmm'?" “I'm not sure what I'm looking at," she said, leaning down until her beak was a few inches away from his tip. He could feel the air move as she breathed him in.

“Take a wild guess," he said. “it's a dick."

“Yes I know it's a dick, Lambert. It's not quite like a Balokarid's, it's less… rigid, much smoother, and shaped entirely different, too…"

She reached down and gripped his head, the man twitching as she circled it with a thumb, tracing a visible vein running along the shaft. “Is the whole thing sensitive, or just certain parts?" she asked.

“The whole thing, but the tip is more, uh, responsive."

She focused her attention on the head, scratching at it with two fingers like she was stroking a pet, drawing lazy circles on his foreskin, mapping out every part of it while being mindful of her nails. She brought in her other arm, her hands large enough to conceal his flesh completely from his view as she gripped and tugged at him experimentally.

“Don't hold it like that, it's not a flightstick, Mez," he said, chuckling as she studied his organ.

“It certainly has the shape of one. Thrusters on," she said, mimicking his voice as she bent his rod towards his belly.

“Ah! The fuck, Mez?" He wasn't sure if he should scold her or laugh, Mezul delighting in his reaction as he writhed underneath her attentions, playing his body like an instrument, testing his limits and smirking all the while.

He had to resist the urge to buck up into her hand when she found out that the skin around the head could draw back, his sensitive glans exposed to the cool air.

“It's peeling back," Mezul said, a touch of alarm in her voice. “is it supposed to do that?"

“You'd know if it shouldn't," he replied, leaning back on an arm. “Just… watch the claws, thanks…"

He could feel her breathing on his crotch as she leaned closer to his member, her flexible neck twisting at an odd angle as she serviced him. He jolted when she ran the dull side of her nail over his glans, her eyes flicking to his. “Too sensitive? Got it. What about these two orbs?" She pointed at his testes.

“We call them balls," he explained. “Also sensitive."

“So the Senator thinks I have these balls?" Mezul said, cupping one of them in her palm, testing their weight.

“I-It's a figure of speech," he said, looking away when Mezul grinned at his reaction.

“You act so tough flying your ship, but here you're so sensitive. Humans are too cute."

“Well you're not playing fair," he shot back, his cheeks warming. “How's this supposed to work when I'm the only one naked?"

“You have a point." The Balokarid moved away, her hands going with her, a part of him disappointed that her explorations were over. She turned her attention towards her armour, placing her shoulder pieces on the floor and then fiddling at a few clasps hidden just beneath her armpits, metal clunking together as she worked at removing the cuirass.

“There's a button on the back," Mezul said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “Can you press it for me?"

He shuffled on his knees across the bed, getting a face full of feathers as Mezul accidently hit him with her wing – the thing was huge – until he was behind her, a groove between her shoulders drawing his attention. There was a button there like she said, and he pressed it, the plates splitting down the middle, making the neck hole wider.

“There's another one a little lower, too," she said. Did she really need help getting in and out of her suit, or did she just want him to undress her? Her arms were certainly long enough, so he guessed it was the latter.

He found what she was talking about, pressing the button and watching the vest split down the middle, leaving a sizeable gap.

Mezul started to shrug the thing off over her head like a shirt, raising her hands to the collar, and here Lambert took a moment to admire her wings. They were collapsed against her arms, made up from longer stalks that were slightly broader than the rest of her coat. They felt fragile when he brushed them with his hand, each one densely packed with feathers and connected together via a kind of membrane.

Like a card player unfurling his hand, the stalks flipped out in symmetry as he delved his fingers into her wing, feeling the dense muscles press back reflexively. Mezul let out a surprised squawk as they stretched out to their full lengths, the whole wing wide enough to almost cover the entire length of the bed.

“L-Lambert, what are you-?" She tried to look back at him, but her wings plus the raised cuirass were blocking her view, and she couldn't lift the vest off herself without getting stuck.

“How are these things so soft?" he mused, the feathers so light it was almost like touching nothing, if that was how one could describe it.

“Hold on, Lambert!" Mezul giggled, her face completely covered as she lifted the vest over her beak. She managed to slip one arm through, but the one he was inspecting was still at full mast.

“Ah, looks like I'm not the only one who's sensitive," he teased, finally deciding to help her out, squashing the stalks against her arm so that they could fit through the chestpiece holes. The feathers were so long the whole process was like trying to fold the sails of a boat in half.

Inch by inch, her feathered back slowly revealed itself as she lifted her vest. Not an inch of skin was visible, the azure feathers here following the natural curves of her waist towards her shapely rump. She was so thick around her midsection that if he wrapped his arms around her, his fingers would have trouble meeting on the other side, but her size only seemed to accentuate her hourglass shape. The subtle curve in the small of her back, the way her torso broadened towards her upper chest and shoulders, she was perfect. Lambert had always admired a woman's back, something about the way it teased at what lay on their front was alluring to him.

Her tail got squashed between his chest and her back, the fan- shaped appendage made up of maybe seven individual stalks, flittering like crazy when he moved it aside to get comfortable.

Mezul seemed to read his mind like a book, her arms wrapping over her chest as she looked over her shoulder at him, a mischievous look on her face. Lambert took a moment to admire her before running his hands through her feathered shoulders, digging through the soft coat and relishing in their texture. She was softer than the mattress beneath his knees, his alien companion fluffier than any downy material he'd ever felt. He delved deeper into her luxurious coat, seeking more of her out, his hands disappearing up to the second knuckles, her muscles hidden beneath pushing back against his fingers. She was so soft, inspiring in him a need to run his hands over as much of her as he could.

He buried his face in the nape of her neck, breathing in her strange scent as he admired the way her feathers morphed beneath his questing fingers. “It's been some time since I've preened my coat," Mezul said, creating a strange warbling sound as he caressed her hips. “but it doesn't look like you mind."

Her headdress and the feathers on her neck bristled, some of them touching his face, Lambert scrunching up his nose as he sneezed, Mezul flinching as she peered back at him. “Or, maybe you do?"

“Sorry," he said, laughing. “you're a bit dusty."

“Oh," Mezul chuckled. She grabbed him by the chin and guided him towards her beak, delivering another one of her strange kisses as her beak split apart, the tips almost touching his ears as she engulfed his face, but he didn't mind, not with that long tongue of hers shoved down his throat.

Mezul pulled away, a strand of saliva still connecting their faces as she smiled at him, turning around so that her front was to him,

crossing her legs as she sagged further into the bed. Lambert's eyes were drawn down to her impressive bust, most of it covered behind her arm, admiring the way her flesh spilled over her limb like melting wax. From what he could tell they were also covered in her feathery coat, although the blue tips of her feathers were more muted.

“You don't have to be shy, Mez," he said, motioning for her to lift her arm.

“S-Shy?" Mezul almost seemed insulted. “I'm twice your size, why would I be shy?"

He shuffled closer, linking his hand with hers and gently moving her arm away. Her boobs sprang back into shape, wobbling for a second before they settled. To call Mezul well-endowed wouldn't do it justice, it was a wonder she managed to squeeze those

things into her armour without hurting herself. They were distinctly tear-shaped, covered in light black feathers that bordered on grey, and as he suspected were not tipped with the azure blue that was common on the rest of her, her underbelly a much darker tone.

Her coat made them look especially smooth, her feathers accentuating their perky shape. They might have been large, but they were proportionate to the rest of her, Mezul making one of her strange, warbling sounds as he admired them for a few moments.

“I don't know how… big, human women are," she began. “but… how do they look?"

“So you are shy," he teased.

“I'm not shy, I'm just curious if this is familiar to you."

“Are you kidding me? These things are as big as my head!"

“And is that a good thing or not to humans?"

Rather than answer her, he reached up and cupped her left breast in his hand, her feathers never ceasing to amaze him with their pillowy texture. He sank his fingers into her coat, feeling out the doughy flesh beneath, his fingers disappearing from view. He began to knead at it, the breast too large to grab at with just one hand. When he found the firmer, more sensitive tissue deeper in, Mezul arched her back beautifully, pressing her bust towards his face.

“I'll assume that's a yes," Mezul moaned. They were still holding hands, and Lambert let go to bring up his other arm up to her other tit, mapping out every part of her impressive bosom, relishing in the way they sprang back into shape when he let go. “Like that, Lambert, like that…"

“I thought you said you had nipples," he asked, admiring the way her ample mounds of fat bulged between his fingers.

“Why don't you find out if I was lying?"

He moved his fingers about, exploring as much as savouring her as his questing hands roamed, Mezul gasping when he brushed over a flaw inside her smooth coat.

Lifting an eyebrow, he leaned closer, putting all his attention on her left boob as he tried to part her black coat, Mezul chuckling as his attentions seemed to tickle her.

Her nipple was familiar to him, although it was a deep shade of blue rather than pink like a human's. He didn't know if they were always that big or were currently swollen with her excitement, but the bestial grunts she made when he trapped the bud between his fingers told him she was enjoying his attentions.

“Found one," he reported, and before she could say anything, he mashed his face against it, his lips seeking out the bud of flesh. He accidently caught one of her feather stalks on his lip, pushing it away with his tongue as he trapped her nipple between his teeth, teasing it with quick flurries of his tongue and biting down on it.

Mezul squawked, sort of like a 'Karraawrt!' –sound that made Lambert draw back to look at her, those golden eyes of her blazing as she met his gaze. “You okay Mez? Did that hurt?"

“Th-That was not what I meant when I said find out," she breathed. “and no, that didn't hurt, quite the opposite."

“So that was a good chirp-thing, got it."

He returned his attention back to her breast, kneading one while he kissed and mouthed at the other, Lambert feeling the Balokarid cradle the back of his head with her hand as she made her strange bird-like sounds. His attentions gently eased her down to the bed, Mezul resting on an elbow as he swapped from one boob to the other.

“Like that," she whispered as he drew circles with his tongue

across her bud. “Oh, by the sands. I-Is this how humans mate?"

“I'm just trying to find out if you lactate," he answered between licks.

“W-What?" she exclaimed. “I could just tell you if you asked!" “I'm joking. This is human-style foreplay. I'm guessing you're a fan?"

“No I'm having a horrible time," she replied, her hand waving sarcastically.

He went back down on her, her moans like music to his ears as he chewed on her perfect globes. He bit and nibbled for a few minutes, his lips soon leaving her beasts and wandering lower, Lambert planting kisses on her stomach as he went. He gripped her voluptuous waist and dragged himself towards her abs, holding back another sneeze as her feathers bristled once more. Her powerful core was developed like a body-builders, her stomach packed with muscle his hands quickly sank into, her soft feathers contrasting with the steely flesh beneath. How she could be so soft and so hard at the same time was beyond him, her alien anatomy so strange and alluring.

He mouthed at her abs, delighting in the way her muscles pushed back, her feathers tickling his face as he planted kiss after kiss. Her belly was like a cloud he could just rest his head on forever, his lover giggling somewhere above him as he explored every feather on her. She was a lot of woman, but soft in all the right places, his erection straining so hard it almost hurt.

“If I'd known you liked my body earlier I would have confessed much sooner," Mezul said, her golden eyes watching him over the mound of her bust. She put a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh as he looked up, his expression apparently amusing her.

“You're really sensitive down here," Lambert asked, sinking his hands into the meat of her hips, this time the alien was the one squirming.

“It's your fingers. Our claws can't get through as much of the coat as yours can without cutting."

She did have some wicked talons that might make getting through all those feathers difficult. “So every Balokarid is ticklish?" he asked. “Good to know…"

An inch lower and his lips met the waistband of her skirt, the cloth secured tantalizingly just above her mound, where pubic hair would be on a human. Lambert got an idea, using his teeth to pull at the cloth, the fabric stretching as he lifted his head.

“What are you doing?" Mezul asked, her beak split in a wide smile.

“You shaid you liked shtrippers," Lambert said, his mouth full of her skirt. “show I thought you'd like thish."

“The sides need to come off first," she explained through a short bout of laughter. She reached down and lifted the plates on her hips off, dropping them off the side of the mattress. “Get that out of your mouth, Lambert, I'll do it."

Maybe she wasn't a fan of the kinks, Lambert shrugging as he opened his jaw. The fabric snapped back into her waist with an audible slap, her stomach quivering from the impact. “Ow!" Mezul exclaimed, shooting him an annoyed look.

“My bad," he replied sheepishly, his attention quickly drawn between her legs. She hooked a claw beneath the skirt, slowly revealing what lay beneath. Before he even saw anything, the heat was the first thing he noticed. It radiated from between her legs like an oven, her alien scent rife with an aroma that stirred a primal lust inside him. Through her aroma, a pair of flushed, blue lips stared back at him, wet with her excitement as they stayed connected to her garment via a few sticky strands, the alien already wet. Her entrance winked open, exposing the folds of blue flesh hidden in her most intimate reaches, her entrance larger than anything he'd seen before. A trickle of her fluids slid down the side of it, Lambert noticing the feathers around her nethers were a lot smaller and finer, the ones closest to her lips barely larger than his nails.

“Is something wrong?" Mezul asked, gravity pulling her breasts apart as she watched him from far above him, her beak so far away given her size.

“No, I'm just… taking in the sights. Alien bird pussy isn't something I see too often."

“What's a bird?" she asked, but Lambert ignored her, slipping his hands between her cheeks and the bed, grabbing as much of her ass as he could. He couldn't see it from this angle, but he could feel her butt absorbing his hands up to the wrist with their doughiness, her tail going crazy when he stroked it by the base.

Her legs rubbed against his sides as he sucked and kissed her inner thighs, each one flawless and impossibly soft to the touch, yet like the rest of her, there was firmer tissue beneath, a proportionate amount to help carry her around, but no less impressive. Her clawed hands and toes dug into the bed beneath her as he teased her, kissing the creases her flesh made between her ass and her thighs, before finally relenting and plunging his face into her loins.

When he slid his tongue between her swollen lips, Mezul made a noise louder than anything he'd heard before, a sort of screeched trill the kind a dying songbird might make with its last breath. He blinked through her intoxicating scent and peered up at her, her chest rising and falling heavily.

“Why did you stop?" Her beak went up and to the side, her one eye fixed on his.

“You, you sounded like you were hurt!"

“Why would that hurt? You're barely larger than an infant, you can't hurt me!"

“Well I don't know what all those squeaks and squawks you're making mean!"

“That one meant keep going," Mezul clarified. “Unless I say,

Lambert please stop, just assume they all mean that."

“Okay, those'll be our safe words then." He turned his attention back to her nethers, tasting her tangy juices with another drag of his tongue, starting slower this time. She tasted a little bitter, but not in a bad way, seeking out more of her nectar as he explored her with his tongue. He mapped out every inch of her large lips, coating her entrance in his saliva as he sucked on her feathery flesh.

Her thighs trembled as he pushed his tongue inside, her blue walls flexing against his muscle as he drew random shapes on her vulva. Mezul arched her back, lifting Lambert off the mattress as he stroked her insides mercilessly.

He lifted his head to catch his breath, glancing up to see Mezul was covering her eyes with an arm, her wing concealing her face as she lay back on the pillows.

Lambert took a breath like a diver, plunging back into her crotch and resuming his licking. He couldn't cover all of her with just his tongue, so he brought up his hand, fingering at her opening, wetting his digits before pressing them inside her.

His hand was practically sopping with her juices before he sank up to the knuckle, Mezul's insides seizing around him as the Balokarid moaned and squawked. Her passage was deeper than a humans', his finger not reaching any sort of limit as it disappeared fully inside her. A human would be in pain by this point, but Mezul was squawking all sorts of sounds that weren't born from pain, the alien reduced to a mess as he ravaged her privates.

She was loose by human standards given her size, but she possessed a distinct strength down there, her walls clenching around his finger in waves, pulling his finger deeper in with surprising strength. Mezul shivered as he delved his tongue back in, racking her luxurious walls and filling his mouth with her fluids.

He heard his partner stutter out a sentence somewhere above him. “D-Do you… Rrawwt… Doesn't my taste bother you?"

His face slick with her fluids, he lifted out of her scorching entrance, seeing that Mezul was peering over her wing at him, just her eyes visible.

“You taste amazing," he replied. If Mezul could blush, she'd do it right then, the alien warbling in a way that came off as flustered, her headdress standing tall.

“Humans must do that, all the time," Mezul mumbled, watching a trail of his saliva and her juices drip off his chin to land on her thigh, her gaze full of lust. “Balokarids can't do anything like that. The beaks."

He could imagine those tough beaks would make eating out someone a problem. He slid his finger in and out of her, slowly adding in another digit as her silken walls moved and clenched around him with all the tightness of a glove, wet squelches filling the room. Before he went back in he asked, “Do you guys have a… clitoris?"

Her wing furled away, Mezul's eyelids drooping as she considered his question. “I… don't think my translator has that word."

“What about g-spot? Fun button? Devils' doorbell?" When she just gave him a blank stare he elaborated. “It's like a nub that feels really good if you press on it?"

“Oh, that! Yes, it's higher, and more towards the front like where your nose was. Why do you have so many names for that?" “

Humans like to get creative," he said.

“In more ways than one," she replied, her tongue wetting her beak as she gave her loins a flex around his finger.

“All right, wish me luck," he said, Mezul snickering as he grinned up at her. As he went down on her, her laugh morphed into a moan as he dragged his tongue over her vulva, coring her out as he pushed past her slick lips to nibble on her inner folds. Her slimy flesh flexed in rolling waves, encouraging Lambert's tongue towards where her love button was, the angle of her passage forcing Lambert to tilt his head at an odd angle.

His roaming organ brushed something bumpy, and his alien partner shivered, her wonderful warbles reaching his ears as he found what must be her sweet spot. Its texture contrasted with the rest of her smooth, soft walls, made up of what felt like a couple dozen bristles that followed the roof of her vent. They were like miniature tongues in their own right, arranged in a small pocket of flesh, his erection aching as he imagined them wrapped over his member.

Mezul's hips ground against his face, Lambert feeling her hands resting in his hair, her thighs rubbing against his shoulders as she wrapped her legs across his back, sealing him against her nethers, as if afraid he might pull away.

“Crawwwt~!" Mezul croaked, licking her beak as she peered down at him, watching him eat her out like she was a succulent fruit. “I'm telling everyone about this… your tongue is so warm and smooth and…"

Her words trailed into a sigh as he lapped at her alien sweet spot, his saliva and her fluids filling his mouth. Her hot, slimy walls sealed around his face, contrasting with her cool thighs as their soft, feathery coats tickled his cheeks. She was constantly in motion, Lambert growing bolder as he made his partner dance with his tongue, making sure he tasted every part of her alien vagina.

Mezul's passage clenched around his face with a painful suction, the alien suddenly arching her spine as she threw her head back, making all sorts of crawts and rawts as she gyrated her hips like she was trying to fuck his face.

Her fluids flooded through her winking passage, wetting the insides of her thighs and the bedsheets beneath. She bucked like an angry bull throwing a rider, Lambert hanging onto one of her girthy thighs as she rode out the first waves of her climax. The bedsprings creaked ominously as she writhed around, the Balokarid moaning as her wings sprouted to their full lengths. Lambert didn't let up, doubling his efforts as he mouthed at her sensitive loins, drawing out a few more sighs and twitches from his lover, prolonging her climax and drawing out the last of her juices.

Her legs collapsed to either side of him as she relaxed, her nails tickling his scalp as she caressed him, Lambert shivering contentedly. He rose from her mound like he was breaching the surface of a pool, his face soaked and his eyes lidded. He could make out Mezul peering back at him, her breasts swaying enticingly as she eased down onto the pillows.

He crawled his way up her long body, his hands connecting with hers as he lay on her belly, pinning her wrists by her shoulders, Mezul leaning down to connect her beak to his mouth, her long tongue coiling over his so she could dictate their pace. If she was

concerned about tasting her own fluids, she didn't show it, ferociously licking at his gums and teeth, always keeping him just on the edge of suffocating as she piled her tongue inside him, the way he was always longing for breath making him feel vulnerable and overtly sensitive to her touch.

“And I once worried I was too different for your taste," Mezul chuckled as she broke off, her beak rubbing against his neck like a cat seeking affection. “No one's ever made me feel like that in… ever."

“That's how humans do it."

“Well, let me show you how Balokarids do it…"

She rolled him onto his back, easily twice as strong as he was, dropping her weight on his chest as she nibbled playfully on his shoulder, her boobs spilling like dough over his chest. She easily weighed over two hundred pounds and could probably crush the life out of him, but she was oddly considerate for such a giant creature, planting her thighs to either side of him to support her weight.

Like he had done earlier, she worked her way down from his neck, Lambert letting out an unbecoming moan as she sucked on one of his nipples. He hadn't thought he was a fan of that kind of thing until today.

“You're so muscular," Mezul mused, her beak ticking his skin as she followed the curve of his pectoral. “But with no protective fur or scales, how odd." She left a long, slick trail with her tongue as she moved down to his stomach, dipping her organ into his belly button

and giggling when he squirmed. She moved lower towards his crotch, her hindquarters raised high into the air as she examined his dick.

She licked the underside of his cock from the base to the tip, a pleasant shiver rolling down his spine as he suppressed the urge to buck. Her golden eyes met his as she grinned up at him, her eyes on either side of his shaft. “Ever since we took a layout of your anatomy, this has to be the most interesting part. Does it not retract?"

“N-No," he replied, Mezul wrapping her long arms over his legs and tucking them beneath her stomach, placing her beak between his thighs and staring intently at his organ.

“So it just flops around in your pants all the time?" she asked. “How do you walk around without it getting in the way?"

“The same way you walk around with those melons on your chest, I'd guess," he replied. It looked like she was about to ask what a melon was, when she placed a hand on her bosom and probably guessed the answer.

She placed her beak against his balls, her nostrils flaring as she breathed in his scent, his raging erection twitching with anticipation. Her beak split open as she prepared to take him into her mouth, when she suddenly raised a wing, the furls opening to expose the feathered sheaths. She brushed his glans with their tips, Lambert bucking reflexively at the strange sensation.

He couldn't have raised her off if he tried, pinned as he was, but his legs flexed in vain anyway. “Fuck me rigid," he groaned, panting as she brushed the wing back the other way.

“We'll get to that, I want to sate a few curiosities first," Mezul replied. “Do humans come?"

“I will if you keep doing that," he said.

“How long of a rest do you need after you do?"

“I don't know, ten minutes?" he guessed, biting at his hand to stifle a moan as she started licking him between each soft stroke of her wing.

“That's fast compared to our males, but I still can't wait that long. Warn me if you're about to come, Lambert, I want your seed inside me for our first time."

“A-Alright," he said, his face going red at her lurid request. “I'll take a page out of your book and say crawt or something."

“Make any noise you like, just hold on for me."

She stopped stroking him with her wing, pinching the tip of his cock with two claws and peeling back the foreskin, his head already wet with his pre. Mezul circled his glans with her thumb, wetting her finger as she drew her tongue over a vein running down the side of his shaft. It was so wet and warm, her flexible tongue leaving no inch of him untouched as she explored him.

Her headdress fluttered as she noted his reaction, a haze falling over Lambert's head as he laid back against the pillows when she started stroking him, her hand encompassing the lower half of hic cock as she squeezed and pulled, finding a comfortable pace.

Her maw opened to expose her rows of teeth, Lambert tensing up as she drew closer. It didn't look like Balokarid's did much in the way of oral, and just as he was about to say something, she started teasing his flesh with quick flurries and licks, keeping her teeth well away from his sensitive flesh.

The Balokarid lapped a bead of his excitement into her gullet, Mezul sampling it by smacking her teeth together. His taste only seemed to encourage her, the alien doting and licking on him with a renewed fervour. The dual movements of her hand and her tongue sent Lambert into a trance, his hips bucking up in search of more stimulation.

“How does it feel?" Mezul asked, drawing her tongue back and cupping his balls with her free hand, squeezing them gently. “My beak can't compare with your dexterous tongue, but is it… good?"

“Hell yeah it's good," he replied, Mezul smirking at him as she lowered her face down to his crotch, her tongue wetting his length with a sheen of her spit, the mix of saliva and her rhythmic pumping creating a wet, lurid noise that could probably be heard from the next-door apartment.

He felt the tip of her tongue slip beneath his foreskin, and Lambert bucked so hard Mezul lifted a few inches off the mattress, the alien mumbling something around his cock as she rested more of her weight on him. He could feel the hard nubs on her breasts pressing into his thighs, his legs surrounded by her silken torso. It felt

like his entire lower half was wrapped in a soft blanket, his toes curling as she upped the ante on his member.

She kissed and mouthed just as he had with her loins, quickly finding that his glans were a weak spot she could take advantage of, sliding her tongue around his head until it disappeared from view, surrounded by her tapered, blue tongue. She went on like that for a few minutes, his thrusts becoming more erratic. He was getting close, his eyes scrunched as he willed himself to hold back so he could experience this feeling for as long as possible.

Her beak wrapped over the head of his cock, Mezul moving it in a chewing motion as she breathed cool air on it. His abs flexed as his climax threatened to break through, but then Lambert's eyes blazed open as he felt two nails pinch round the base of his length, cutting off his surging orgasm in a way that came off as both relieving and disappointing.

“I told you to warn me," Mezul scolded, making sure his climax was cut off before removing her claws. Her tongue slid back into her maw with a squelch.

“Well it's your own fault," he replied. “If you'd gone a bit slower instead of just going right for the… the afterburners!"

“Afterburners!?" Mezul laughed, running her feathery hands up and down his chest. “I appreciate the analogy, Lambert. Maybe we should move on…"

She crawled her way up his torso, planting her knees under his armpits, her thighs almost as long as his torso was, everything from his belly down completely engulfed in a sea of azure feathers as she straddled him. He ran his hands over her plump thighs, his fingers disappearing into her coat as he traced her hidden muscles.

“Am I too heavy?" Mezul asked, Lambert nodding as his legs began to cramp. She lifted her weight a little bit, her digitigrade legs splaying far apart to either side of him. “How's that?"

“Better, yeah," he said. His cock was buried in the heat of her loins, Lambert letting out an unbecoming grunt as Mezul ground her

hips against his, feeling the slick lips of her entrance sliding against his base. Despite not being able to see it, he was still susceptible to her soft touch, and the heat from her entrance.

“Enough teasing," Mezul said, lifiting her plump rear into the air, the tail sprouting from above her cheeks pressing up against her back. “I want you to fill me up."

Her bright eyes burned into his as she took his erection into her hand, using the other to splay open her lips with two claws, a trickle of her excitement falling down to wet the side of his shaft, his dick flexing. Her walls almost seemed to sprout out from her entrance like petals on a blooming flower, Lambert's heart racing as she angled his member towards her lips.

Mezul lowered herself, the two of them gasping as her silky flesh met his glans, his tip sliding into her narrow opening. Her powerful muscles poured around his flesh like a vice, a shudder coursing through both their bodies as their contrasting skins rubbed and flexed against each other.

Her blue insides gripped him so powerfully it almost hurt, the head of his dick engulfed by her puffy lips. He thought she'd be slightly loose compared to his smaller anatomy, but Mezul had such fine control down there that her walls wrapped around his length like a fist made of flesh, her walls rippling as she crouched further.

She engulfed his glans, her tunnel seizing around him as she paused, perhaps savouring the sensation of him inside her. Her tunnel was boiling hot, the velvety texture of her walls morphing around his flared head as her anatomy welcomed his alien organ.

Mezul voiced another one of her odd trills, her eyes lidded as her pelvic muscles suddenly tensed up. She let gravity do the rest of the work, the two grunting (and chirping) as Lambert was buried into the mattress as she dropped her bulk on him, impaling herself on his shaft. Her monstrous thighs clamped round his hips and stomach, driving his member deep into her sloped passage.

A pang of worry fought through Lambert's bliss, her sheer size was a cause for concern, but he trusted that she wouldn't crush him, or at least, not to the point she would cause him harm…

His dick kissed her most intimate parts, Lambert trying to buck into her monstrous weight and failing to lift her. Mezul's beak opened in a silent moan, her tongue lolling out so far it trailed right down her cleavage.

Despite his dick being coated in her saliva, there was a wonderful friction as her insides clenched around his length, a jolt of pleasure coursing through his alien lover as his dick flexed inside her.

“I can feel those veins pressing against my…" she trailed off into one of her birdsong chirps, her head rolling away, but Lambert could guess what she was saying. The angle of her passage brought the back of his cock right up against her clitoris, his length brushing against the tens of nodules making up her sweet spot.

She didn't rise up on his shaft, instead beginning to rock her hips from side to side, like she was using his dick to scratch at an itch. Her juices spilled out of her flexing lips, pooling on his crotch and staining the bedsheets, her abs flexing as she used her powerful core to deepen their coupling.

She arched her spine beautifully as she leaned back, pressing her chest forward as she ran her fingers down her sides, her curves like magnets to his eyes as he followed her alien body plan. She dropped her claws onto his chest, rubbing his chest hair, then planted her hands on either side of his head, her breasts smothering his face with their soft meat, the alien now grinding her hips as the bristles on her clitoris painted his cock in rolling waves.

The impossible softness of her luxurious feathers brushed against his cheeks, Lambert lifting his hand up and sinking it into one of her breasts, delighting in the way her harder tissue beneath her coat sprang back like rubber in his grip. He knew where her nipple was off by heart, giving it a rough squeeze, her tunnel contracting as a result.

“Like that," Mezul encouraged from somewhere above him. He didn't need to be told twice, Lambert bringing the nub to his mouth, his partner grumbling something as he gently bit down on it, sealing it between his lips. Mezul's thighs tightened around his hips as he licked and sucked, alternating so that she was always on edge, her love tunnel flexing and moving wonderfully over his shaft.

“Brrble," Lambert said around a mouthful of her soft bosom.

“What?" Mezul lifted her chest off him, her stature making it so that she had to look down to meet his eyes.

“Breath," he repeated, Mezul mumbling an apology as she cupped his chin and delivered one of her signature kisses. He looked down at their mated hips when she pulled away, seeing her lips melting over his crotch. She was drawing circles with her hips, making sure he reached every part of her alien vent, each new angle sending his nervous system into overdrive.

“Here," he said, grabbing her by her love handles and motioning for her to rise. “I'll show you a human trick."

“Another one?" Mezul moaned. “I don't know if I can handle much more..."

“You'll like this," he said. As her hips lifted, her insides gripped his dick hard enough to hurt, like her body didn't want him escaping her. The friction of their vastly different flesh caused them both to groan, Mezul following his lead and lifting her cheeks into the air until only his head was left inside her.

She paused at that apex, the blue flaps of her avian hole dragging outward from her lips as he pulled his hips back. He held onto her cheeks, steadied himself, and stabbed up into her as she dropped at the same time.

All the soft parts of her body rippled with the impact, Mezul letting out a distinctly moan-like chirrup, her drunken eyes turned toward the ceiling. He bottomed out inside her, her insides like wet clay as they morphed to the shape of his cock. He was aware of every crinkle and fold as they raked along his length, his hands running through her silky coat and tracing the subtle curve of her spine.

“Was I right or what?" he said, nuzzling against the feathers on

her chest and breathing in her scent.

“Your organ curves in a completely different direction to my… insides," Mezul muttered, trying to look serious even as she struggled through the bliss. “Isn't that uncomfortable for you?"

“Well, if you want to stop…" He pretended to lift her off, but Mezul leaned more of her weight down on him, the man chuckling as she pinned him by the wrists.

“You're staying right there until you fill me up," Mezul chided, shaking her hips, the movement silencing him. The Balokarid eased her waist up, quickly catching on to Lambert's idea, creating a slow, but heavy pace as she rose up and slammed back down on him, the human writhing beneath her as her insides relentlessly flexed against his sensitive skin. She forced him into her sweet spot again and again, the wet sounds of their coupling rising above the embarrassing grunts the two made over one another.

Balokarids must mate a little differently if this was such a novel experience for Mezul, his lover locked in a blissful trance as she rutted him into the bed, Lambert doing his most to rise up to meet her as they mated. Lambert's hands wandered over her body as he let her have her way with him, her softness impossible to resist.

He could feel his orgasm threatening to erupt, and Mezul seemed to sense it too, the alien's insides squeezing around him in a distinctly milking motion. She looked down at him with a sultry expression, holding him by the shoulder as she bounced on his cock harder and faster.

“Fill me, Lambert," she sighed, alternating between rocking her hips and slamming up and down on him. “I'm so close, just a little more…"

Her pelvic muscles sealed over his dick, her fine control over her core making it difficult to deny her request. She bounced on him with all of her strength and weight, Lambert's body unsure whether to long for air or release. He did his best to meet her thrusts with his own, the two mating like beasts as their composures left them and they let their instincts guide them towards their crescendos. Her beak met his lips as she stared into his eyes, her breath mixing with his as their lovemaking reached a fever pitch.

“More," Mezul whispered. “Just a little m…" She went silent as she brought her hips to his one final time, forcing Lambert as deep as he could go as her tunnel narrowed, the first wave of her orgasm rocking her.

Her alien vent contracted in waves, Mezul running her beak over Lambert's face as her loins gripped his dick with the strength of a vice. His entire lower half vanished as she drew him as deep as he would go, her milking contractions sending Lambert over the edge, his spine curling as his own orgasm erupted with all the violence of a volcano.

A blissful release that bordered on pain took control of his faculties, pumping his first load into her as he took handfuls of her feathers into his grip, his euphoria chased by a satisfying ache as he splashed her walls with his emission.

Mezul's eyes rolled into the back of her head as her flexing passage milked him of another load, her neck falling so far back that her forehead touched the space between her shoulders. Her heavenly walls massaged even more of his ejaculate, it just wouldn't stop, not that Lambert wanted it to, a sweet euphoria chasing his climax as his hips connected up into hers, his fluids joining hers to leak down her thighs as he filled her to capacity.

Their joined pleasure slowly wound down, every subtle twitch from one felt by the other as they rode it out until the gentle warmth of afterglow took them, Mezul sighing as one last flex of his manhood sent a wave of pleasure coursing through her.

She collapsed on him, Lambert voicing a pained gasp as she dropped her weight, the alien smiling at him as she nuzzled his cheek and neck, her hot breath washing over him in bursts as she collected herself.

The light from outside the bedroom caught on her azure feathers and his sweat as she rolled onto her side, making her appear to sparkle, Lambert wincing as his member slid gently out of her, the combination of their juices spilling out between her lips to further dirty the mattress.

“I can feel it warming up my insides," Mezul sighed, touching her stomach which was a little more swollen than before. “You filled me up so much, I wasn't expecting that."

“It's… been a while since I've been with someone," he confessed, turning onto his side, Mezul giggling like a girl as he wrapped his arms around her.

“That means I'll have you all to myself," she purred, running her claws over his scalp, Lambert shivering in her arms. Who knew his head was so sensitive? A snap rippled through the sheets as one of the bedsprings gave way, the pair noticeably sagging as they looked at each other in worry.

“I think we need a new bed already," Lambert laughed. He could only imagine the damage done by going with a Balokarid more than once, and he wasn't just talking about the mattress…

“There's always the other bedroom," Mezul suggested, lifting him up and depositing him on her stomach as she wrapped her arms around him, sighing into his hair.

“You want to break that one too?" he asked, the alien smiling mischievously at him.

“Ten minutes rest, you said?" She laughed as his cheeks reddened, Lambert hiding them as he buried his face in her bust, her wonderful scent filling his nose. Only days ago she'd been this mysterious, alien being with no real grasp on his language, he

wouldn't even dream of being this close to her, but they'd gone through thick and thin that this all just felt right.

“Maybe fifteen," he muttered into her coat. He breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled him close, her sheathes unfurling until her feathers surrounded him on all sides, blanketing him in a surprisingly comfortable wing-hug.

Epilogue

“Afternoon, Senator," Captain Anders said, waving for his guards to wait outside as the door closed behind him. Astera's office hadn't changed all that much since his last visit, her desk sat between two shelving units full of paperbacks of all shapes and colours, a rare commodity, since shipping paper to the Hub wasn't a cheap endeavour. On the back wall was a window looking out over the torus, the blinds open to let the sunlight spill in, the rays reflecting off the miniature model of the station sitting on the Senator's desk.

She was leaning against the window sill, a clipboard in her hand as she furrowed her brow at the words written on it. He didn't need to ask whose report it was, he could make out his own signature near the bottom.

“Captain," the Senator replied. “while I appreciate the sudden influx of intergalactic reinforcements, I'm going to have to ask you that if you ever encounter another alien species again, call me in advance, message interceptions be damned. I'm going to be up to my balls in logistics until my grandson turns ten."

“You're telling me," he muttered, having himself just come from planning out an integration process for the Balokarid fleet. The call to Astera's office was a break he desperately needed, even if he expected a good chewing out.

“Their Kith wants to send word back to Balokar with information on how to differentiate a Hub ship from a Confederate one, did you know that?" Astera asked. “I expect we'll be deploying to their territory given time, they'll want help fighting the UEC off."

“How many planets do they have?"

“Dur'shala's their only world outside of their homeplanet," Astera said. “They're a few hundred years behind us in terms of technology, but they'll provide a suitable buffer against the UEC until we can establish a stronger foothold, secure our own fucking nebula for one thing and keep our trade routes open. But enough about logistics, I wanted your report. Off the record."

She dropped the clipboard unceremoniously onto her desk, the Captain raising a brow at her. “You achieved a rather difficult goal of destroying a Confederate fleet and capturing their survivors, but that wasn't your original mission."

“The one covered in black ink?" he asked. “Missing transport ship, last known location somewhere in the nebula?"

“Did you make any progress on locating them?"

“I… sent you my report," he explained, his brow raised. “You were reading it a minute ago."

“I've had enough of paperwork for one afternoon," Astera said, flopping not so gracefully down on her chair, its suspension sagging. “And you know as well as I that transcripts don't remain classified forever, and this is a highly sensitive report, so indulge me, Captain."

“Well," he began. “It took a few weeks of searching before we found something, one of our scout ships detected a trail of refined chemicals that are analogous with a ruptured fuel tank, which could indicate our missing ship experienced damages of some sort.

“The scout followed the trail, but they left it to go after a Balokarid ship nearby, your Commander Hall was the one who made the call. He did drop a waypoint there for future reference, and I dispatched another team to follow up on the lead while we tried to make translators for the aliens."

“And?" Astera asked, leaning over her desk. “What did the team find?"

“Readings got a little hazy," he said. “But visual and thermal readings confirmed that the trail ends a couple sectors off from where Commander Hall left it. No wreckage in sight, it just stops."

“So the mission failed?" Astera asked. She didn't sound

displeased, like she suspected this outcome, which was true considering he'd written it down for her. “You could not locate the ship?"

“We sustained too much damage during the fight," Anders replied. “We could not continue the search, not that we would have found much else, the fuel trail was only our lead, and it was a dead end."

“What do you suspect happened to them?" Astera asked, picking up a bottle and taking a sip. The bottle was metal, so he couldn't see the contents.

“My analytical team believes the ship's crew successfully repaired their damaged tank, and went on their way."

“I didn't ask what your fucking analytical team thinks happened, I'm asking you, Captain."

He was used to her terse language, so he wasn't so taken aback by her reply. “Personally? I think they were either captured or

destroyed," he said. “but a ship's transponder would send out an alert when their reactor goes critical, it's standard protocol to warn nearby ships of incoming debris. The interference could have blocked us from receiving one, but there was no wreckage of any kind, and a simple leak in the fuel tank couldn't result in a meltdown, not unless they were shot at."

“Do you suspect the UEC were involved?"

“They've got the motive, but none of the Fed's we've picked up confessed to seeing any ships out there, and the blackbox we recovered from their destroyer supports their claims." He shook his head. “They only sent one battlegroup to hunt down the Balokarid carriers. They're a ruthless bunch, but we would have found evidence of a fight if there was one. Extreme heat emissions from the resulting explosion, for one thing, there's nowhere else for heat to go out in

space."

“What about the Balokarids?" Astera asked. “Do you think they could be involved? Perhaps they commandeered it?"

“It seems a pretty bad way of starting our alliance," Anders replied. “And the Kith claims none of her people have flown a single wing into this whole nebula before, and by the way her navigation charts look, I believe her."

“So if the Balokarids didn't do it, and the UEC didn't either, who is responsible?"

“You always get up everyone else for asking dim-witted questions, how come you're different?"

“My frustration is getting the better of me," she muttered. “I must admit you're not giving me many answers, Captain," she added, peering at him over her bottle as she took another sip. “There's no evidence to suggest destruction, and the only culprits to explain a potential capture you have ruled out. A ship cannot just disappear without a trace."

“But this one did," he said with a shrug. “And speaking of answers, perhaps you would care to enlighten me about this transport a little more? It's cargo, destination? It might give me more to go on."

The Senator sighed, making to pick up her clipboard again, then reconsidering. “I suppose there's too much secrecy already, isn't there? Very well. The ship is… was… not a transport vessel but a fuel liner, carrying twenty thousand litres of spare unrefined fuel, its destination beyond the borders of the UEC."

“Unrefined? Why were they taking that beyond colonised space?"

“I'll get to that if you stop interrupting me," Astera snapped. “I assigned some of my most trusted compatriots to crew that ship, people I've known a long time who wouldn't ask questions and keep their mouths shut."

Astera cleared her throat, her chair creaking as she adjusted herself.

“I sent them out to sway the Suvelians into a trade agreement, the fuel was to be a gesture of goodwill, since they'd been planning a long voyage or something, I didn't pry for details." She noted his expression. “Yes, the aliens who ignored our species for the last few hundred years contacted me out of the blue, I was on my laptop one morning and they popped up on my screen like some fucking intergalactic house call, said they heard of our 'interracial infighting'." Astera added in her own air quotes. “-And wanted to work with us, since we were not Confederately aligned. I agreed to a meeting at some unremarkable sector a few systems out from the UEC border, a few months travel beyond the nebula."

Anders had many questions, but the first he asked was: “How did they communicate with you?"

“They tapped into my fucking microphone and webcam, speaking perfect English! Fuck knows how they managed that, they didn't even give me the courtesy to get properly dressed, I've never discussed policies in my nightgown before. You realise as well as I that it was an opportunity I could not give up, and to ensure success I kept the list of people who knew about this meeting to a minimum. What a lot of good that did," she muttered. “if you suspect another party is at fault for our missing ship, Captain, there's your answer. But as you said, it would be some way of starting a fledgling alliance by taking out one of our ships."

“Have the Suves contacted you since that last call?"

“No, they've gone quiet." She waved a hand. “I've had my computer looked at, but however they managed to contact me, they didn't leave a trail my techs could find."

“You've given me more questions than answers, Senator," he chuckled bitterly. “The Suves might know more, but without any way of contacting them…" He shrugged.

“So, in summary," Astera said, lifting up her fingers to count. “our ship vanishes without a trace. There's no evidence to suggest destruction, or capture, and the aliens are probably not responsible, and neither are the Confederates." Astera sighed. “I've given textbook speeches more satisfying than that. This won't look good to the public, nor to my rivals."

“And being the old face leading the revolution against the UEC does? What else do your rivals need to hate you?" he asked, Astera fixing him with a cold look.

“You wouldn't have happened to add in the word old for a reason, turncoat?" she asked dryly.

“You must have misheard."

“I'm going to need more vodka than what's in this to believe that." Astera held up her bottle, Anders grinning as he finally detected the whiff of alcohol. “I'll pour you one for such a bold jab, you'll need it for when we sort out the alien residential rites. Which is now. Take a seat, we've a lot of work to do."

-THE END-

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