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“_Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.”

~Winston S. Churchill_

Thom had only seen the famous Geneva skyline, dominated by the TAFT headquarters known as the Spire, in postcards. Now though, standing on the scorched hull of the Ronin-C where she had cratered the famous Brunswick Monument while Geneva burned all around, Thom kind of wished he had never come.

Between where they had crashed and the Spire lay the massive Lake Geneva. And hovering over the dark, still water hung the Killmonger, spitting out drop ships across the city while laser shots picked off TAFT heavy weapons teams and defensive turrets. The only direct route to the Spire seemed to be to the south, where a long bridge crossed the wide channel the lake tapered into.

He pointed it out to the girls as they clambered out of the Ronin-C's hatch behind him. “That's the only way to the council."

“There's bound to be Royal Dominion troopers between us and there," Gemini pointed out.

Thom didn't disagree, merely sliding off the shuttle's hull and landing in the scorched grass below.

“Hit the diff," he replied cryptically, then with one hand doffing his pulse rifle, he offered the other to help the girls down.

One by one they climbed down, Gemini jumping down on her own and keeping her own rifle level in case of unexpected guests. Vaelia was down last. When she landed, her hand firmly gripping Thom's while the other pulled her blaster, she gave him a curious look.

“What does that mean?" she asked, and for a second Thom wasn't sure what she was talking about. “Hit the diff. I've heard you say it a few times before. What's it mean?"

The human frowned, then let out a little chuckle, as if only just realizing he'd been speaking in tongues. “Oh, man. I didn't even realize I was saying it." He seemed to savor a memory for a second before flashing her a grin. “Literally? It means to turn on the manual differential switch on a tractor. I grew up on a harvest world. 'Hit the diff 'n pray,' my dad used to say. You'd hit the differential switch when moving a tractor up a steep hill, then just pray you get all the way to the top.

“So right now we're on a steep hill. We've hit the differential and the throttle is open, it's all we can do. Lets just pray fate takes us to the top."

Vaelia smiled reassuringly. “We will reach the top."

“How do you figure?"

Her hand squeezed his for a second. “We've got you with us."

The rain started shortly after as they hiked towards the Spire. Southbound first, they followed the roads skirting Lake Geneva, then cut onto the main bridge to the far end of the city that was usually congested with commuters and tourists. Tonight, under the dreary sky from which a sticky drizzle permeated, the streets were abandoned. PSA screens were flashing red with hazards, and every so often a female voice announced a city-wide evacuation. Cars, some still running, were abandoned in the streets. An empty pram rolled past them, gently shoved down the slope by a breeze.

The once bustling city was now a ghost-town.

The rattle of far off gunfire made them pause the first two times. After that, the group seemed to get used to the noise, and following Thom and Gemini's lead, the party pressed on. They didn't meet a single soul.

Not until they reached the far end of the bridge.

Ducking into the mouth of an alley for cover, Thom ushered the girls in behind him, then leaned around the corner to sweep the next street. Maybe a hundred meters downrange, at the foot of a large military structure were a group of people. Though to be more specific, there were two groups.

The structure was topped by an enormous sub-orbital MAC gun. The magnetically-accelerated-cannon capable of putting tungsten rounds clean through ships like the Killmonger was silent. And in the gun's shadow one group had put another on their knees.

The people shoved to their knees seemed mostly regular folks. Human civilians in garb not unlike Thom's. with them, five uniformed TAFT marines. The marines had been stripped of their battle gear and weapons, the kit cast aside in a pile as standing over them were a number of sleekly armored Caushae warriors.

The Caushae wore the colors of the Royal Dominion, RD flags emblazoned on their shoulders with matte black impact plating bulwark of the fur-tight red under-armor. Their energy weapons were trained on the marines and civilians alike, some of the uniformed humans shouting profanities at their hostage takers. One man even shuffled to one side, putting himself in front of a gun pointed at a young couple shielding their crying daughter, who couldn't have been older than five.

“Jesus," Thom muttered under his breath, prompting Jinory to peek over his shoulder.

She saw the family being held at gunpoint like the other hostages and gave a horrified gasp. Somewhere behind, Gemini snarled angrily.

“What do we do?"

Thom could hear Al's words echo in his mind. 'You'll do your best, like you always do. And that's always been good enough.'

He honestly had no idea what to do, so he followed impulse. He always had in the past, and if in Al's opinion it had always been good enough, then today would be no exception.

“Our best." Then pushing off, Thom righted his pulse rifle and pressed forward. As he moved he gave a set of gestures he hadn't used since his TAFT years.

Gemini understood well enough, and shouldering her own pulse rifle she followed close behind. The duo hugged the side of the street, edging forward in the RD troopers' blind vector, providing a wide enough berth for Vaelia and Sammi to lean out of the alley behind them. With blasters leveled, they waited in a covering position.

The troopers cocked their weapons, a few small screams ringing out from the hostages. One of them stroked the butt of his rifle across the marine who put himself between the guns and the civilian family, knocking him down and splashing the tarmac with blood.

One by one the rifles came up and they readied for the execution.

The racket of automatic fire lit up the night, flashes of hyper velocity tracers binding as they tore through bodies.

The armored bodies of the RD troopers convulsed as Thom and Gemini unleashed a sustained torrent of gunfire. They didn't let up, sweeping, moving and shooting, raking through the Caushae with pitiless efficiency.

Thom, who had opened fire first, ran dry first. Gemini let off the trigger, shortening her bursts as she put a few wounded troopers whose armor saved them from the opening salvo into the ground. Thom pulled a spare magazine from his pocket, used it to flick the spent mag from his pulse rifle, then reloaded.

“Left clear," Thom reported, cocking the rifle and giving the downed troopers a quick look.

Gemini echoed as she moved around his back to check the others, “Right clear."

The marines in the meantime picked themselves up, jumping on their gear and relinquishing the dead Caushae of their weapons.

“The others would have heard that," the marine with a bloodied face barked, gesturing his men to move the civilians into cover. “My count puts maybe a twelve more hostiles securing the MAC facility." He glanced up at the gun instillation towering over them. It wasn't a large facility, but dealing with a dozen bad-guys in tight quarters was never a good time.

“Sounds like a freakin' party," Thom responded, falling into formation behind the man, and Gemini followed tight behind. Years of training he hadn't used in a very long time came flooding back and he joined the marine's choreographed dance. It was almost like riding a bike. Several of the men stacked up to one side of the facility entrance, while the leader, Thom and Gemini readied themselves on the far flank.

“We should take it room for room, then blow that fucking thing out of the sky," the marine standing opposite his team leader said with a nod at the Killmonger.

“Hell yeah," Thom responded. “That ship has been pissing me off for weeks now."

“Well, consider yourself an honorary marine, son. I'm Sergeant Fowler." He held up a fist and Thom bumped it in greeting.

“Thom," he introduced, then nodded to Gemini. “This is Gemini. Some of my friends are holding position further down the street. One of them is Caushae, so watch your fire."

“Kill," the marines acknowledged in their own aggressive way. “How about we do this fuckin' thing, sarge?"

“Ooh-rah. Gemini, you're my door-kicker." She nodded understanding as Fowler held up his fist and pumped it three times in countdown. “Breach-breach-breach!"

Gemini darted around them, lifted a knee to her chest and put her boot through the front door. The double doors slammed open and she dipped to one side, ignoring the RD trooper standing stunned in the middle of the corridor. Fowler dealt with that, following his rifle in, the ballistic weapon letting out three loud pops. The Caushae trooper crumpled as the rounds passed through his chest, a third shattering his domed visor for good measure.

He was down before the team had even followed Fowler in. And the precarious room-by-room clearing gauntlet began. Staying close to Gemini as she led Thom in behind the marines, he kept his rifle doffed and a hand on her shoulder. Marines fell into the left side of the foyer and the duo dashed right. Pops of erratic fire, clean tight and accurate echoed throughout the MAC facility. Each smattering firefight marked the end of another RD trooper.

Taking an adjacent corridor to the marines, Gemini held the hallway while Thom branched off sweeping flanking rooms. One he had to kick the door off the hinges, then unloaded, pumping the remainder of a mag into two red-and-black clad Caushae consecutively. Another came dashing around the corner ahead of Gemini, dropped by a quick shot to the leg by the Lycan, and finished by a double-tap to the head.

They met back up with the marines in the stairwell, and cleared the vertical space together. Multiple overlapping vectors of fire ensured they weren't blind-sided, and dumping a Caushae on the stairs led them to the MAC control center on the second floor. Only two RD troopers held the space, ambushing the group as they tried to get in through the door.

The troopers had them in a funnel, with superior cover inside. But thankfully one of the marines had something for that.

The man pulled a pair of cylinders from his vest, threw one to Thom then flashed Gemini a saucy wink. The confused Lycan watched as the two humans, chuckling at her expense, pulled safety pins from the devices, then tossed them into the room.

Smoke, noise and light spilled out of the chamber in a cacophony of deafening bangs. Blinding strobes of flashes filled the air with the smell of burnt magnesium as in the aftermath of the stun grenade detonations, the RD troopers inside cried out and the marines piled in. Several more shots blasted the Caushae, and as the ringing in Gemini's ears began to fade, she and the humans stepped over the dead to assess the gun's control room.

Some errant rounds had cratered consoles, rendering computers inoperable. But for the most part the station was intact. Out the main observation windows they could see the Killmonger still looming over Geneva, obscured by a few spiderweb cracks around holes a few high velocity rounds had punched in the glass.

“Vaelia, the MAC gun is secure," Gemini said, speaking into a communicator in her collar. “Bring everybody in."

“Got it, captain."

As the marines were picking computer stations and logging in to assess the damage to the MAC station, Thom chortled, listening in on the comms. “Y'know we're going to have to work out our ranks at some point, Gemini. We can't both be captain."

Gemini smiled wolfishly. “When all this is over, I intend to find us a quiet bedroom where we will sort out our ranks once and for all."

Thom knew exactly what she had in mind – here's a hint, it wasn't a sparring match in the most traditional sense. But it seemed now as neither the time or place to get flirty.

“I hate to break up the honeymoon, but we got a fucking problem," Fowler called.

Doffing his rifle, Thom marched over. “What's wrong?"

“It's the cannon," he said, pointing at the ceiling. “It's got power, but the commands are not pinging. It's refusing the target and fire on that capitol ship."

Thom grimaced. Unable to ping generally meant a network issue somewhere. “Is there an auxiliary?"

“It was taken out in the firefight," another marine called from a wall panel that had been obliterated by an errant burst of assault rifle fire.

“Great. Al, see what you can…" Thom froze as he brought the holo-display on his sleeve up to his face.

Stopping halfway, he shut his eyes and swallowed tears, cursing himself for the habitual slip up. He'd always relied on Al for most things technical, and now with God-only-knows how many problems to fix before they could get the MAC up and running again, he missed Al even more.

Swearing in a way Al would have surely reprimanded him for, he turned off the holo-display with a flick of his wrist and turned his face to the door. “SAMMI!"

Just as he called out, Sammi ran into chamber, immediately followed by Jinory and the others. Right behind the alien women were the human civilians from the street, whom the marines quickly huddled into a secure corner of the room.

The princess had something of a bewildered look, mimicked by the marines who looked her up and down, then shared a curious glance among themselves.

“That's a long story," Thom said, waving over the smoking hot alien princess in the midst of the war-zone. “Sammi, we have a network problem."

The engineer scoffed, homing in on a metal cabinet over the far end of the room. “I'd say. You call this shooting?" She pointed at the bullet holes in the steel that seem to have gutted the switches and cabling inside.

“Less sass, more fix!" a marine by the window shouted. As he did, he tried to add “incoming!" when a hail of fire from the street shattered the glass.

As Sammi got stuck in, everyone else dashed to the front of the room and slid into cover. A quick peek over the low wall covering them from the street below, Thom saw red and black clad figures darting about. They were ducking between idle vehicles, using concrete barriers for cover and every so often there was a star-shaped flicker of light from their gun-muzzles followed by a hail of tracers sizzling over the top of his head.

Ducking down, Thom half-cocked his rifle and checked the brass in the chamber. Satisfied he was ready to rock, he tapped a holo-pad on his sleeve and interfaced with the building's intercom. For all the battle damage, at least the remedial systems were working well enough for Thom to blast some tunes across the speaker system.

Even the opening riffs of a guitar joined with John Lee Hooker's sultry mutterings was enough to confuse the Caushae invaders. They faltered into nearly a minute of inaction, wondering what that sound was. And then the bass hit and Thom popped up, rifle ready.

“Smoke 'em!"

As one, the marines, Gemini, Vaelia and even Jinory who had appropriated a fallen RD trooper's sidearm, all rose and aimed, unloading a hell storm of shade onto the enemy below. Several of the RD troopers who stood to return fire were cut down in an instant. Those who had the sense to stay in cover managed to lift rifles over their heads and fired blindly with surprisingly effectiveness back at the defenders. One of the marines dropped down cursing.

“Gah, dickheads!" He slung his rifle as he clamped an emergency field dressing over his bloodied sleeve, then reloaded and popped back up to exact some revenge.

But as many troopers were dropped by the hail of defensive plunging fire, more seemed to crawl out of the woodwork. And it was only a matter of time before they either outflanked Thom and his retinue, or just broke through with sheer force.

Fowler dumped a grenade into the mess, then knelt as the detonation shook the foundations of the MAC facility. “Boy, how much longer?" he yelled at Sammi.

The lapin sighed explosively as she worked elbow deep in the shattered network cabinet, tracing and re-crimping cables. “Seriously? What is it with humans and mistaking me for a boy-…?"

“SAMMI! Now is literally not the friggin' time!" Thom yelled as an enemy bullet whistled dangerously close to his ear.

“Just a second!" she responded irately.

“Nothing takes a second!"

“This does. We're done!"

Gemini broke off the fight and ran to the nearest console. She was immediately able to ping the MAC, which turned in its mounts, muzzle growling hungrily with electrical energy. The whir of electronic coils magnetizing turned quickly into a screech, before the depleted uranium round in the chamber was shot out the barrel with a mighty supersonic boom.

Thom's vision shook, but he managed to look up in time to see the round enter the Killmonger's belly… and explode out it's back. The ship tore down the mid-section and very delicately, with a screech of metal and panicking engines, sank towards the lake surface.

Bleeding fire and spitting debris, the immense metal beast plunged nose-first into the water. The result was like a boulder thrown into a puddle. The lake rippled then surged up over the concrete edges built relatively high to prevent seasonal flooding. But there was no stopping this tidal wave, rippling out across every bank of Geneva, dark churning water sweeping across the streets.

The wave smashed into the Caushae attackers, plucking them off their feet and throwing them sidelong across the street. A few that were exposed were instantly cut down by the marines who didn't let up their fire. The others picked themselves up and bolted as the water settled, gurgling down into drains and easing back down into the lake proper.

As the enemy ran, the defenders whooped with joy.

“Kill fucking confirmed!" one of the marines shouted as the remains of the Killmonger jutted out of the water at a broken angle like a metal tombstone. “That was ninja as fuck!"

He held up a hand and Vaelia, laughing, smacked a high-five with the man. Turning to Thom, she smiled fondly.

“That was for Al," she mouthed. And smiling back, Thom nodded in agreement.

Fowler was the only one quiet during the festivities. Though smiling, he had his eyes on the Spire.

“Lock it down, marines. We still got a ways to go to the Spire." The sergeant looked at Thom. “When the spaceport fell, we started using the Spire's landing pads to extract civilians. You're free to join us."

“We got business at the Spire," Thom said. “Is the council still there?"

“Only one way to find out." Fowler doffed his rifle, then directed his men to gather up the civilians. A few minutes later they were moving out.

*****{{~~~}}*****

The Spire was more intimidating up close. Thom was looking straight up and couldn't see the top. And worse than that was the sheer number of guns pointing at him as he approached.

Even with Sergeant Fowler and his peeps as escort, Thom and his friends were essentially civilians with guns, so it was no surprise a bunch of marines piled on them and removed their weapons. Thankfully though, considering the situation and after a fast debrief with Fowler's superiors, they were allowed to keep their sidearms at least.

At first though it seemed they'd be bundled on a drop ship and be shipped the hell out of dodge, but Jinory was thankfully more insistent than the tired human astronaut. She threw her title around and demanded to see the TAFT council, who were still in an emergency summit, overseeing the evacuation of Geneva and defense of the orbital line.

After some time, they managed to get through the secure perimeter and were escorted inside. These chambers were usually only seen by diplomats or civilians during tourism hours.

The massive chamber was cavernous with an enormous panoramic window behind the council showing the rest of Geneva behind them. It had a pretty nice view over the gauntlet Thom and the girls had just run, some remnants of the Killmonger still smoldering visibly in the lake. The council would have had front-row seats for that light-show.

The council themselves were seated in an arc above everyone, looking down over a luminescent dais reserved for guest speakers before them. That was where Jinory was escorted by several local security personnel while Thom and the others watched from the side-line.

“Thank you, honored council, for hearing me in these desperate times," Jinory began, her voice seemingly magically amplified by a hidden microphone somewhere in the dais.

“There's a war on our doorstep, but Admiral Greene's people assure me we have you to thank for removing that eyesore," the chairwoman sitting front and center announced impatiently with a casual nod in the Killmonger's direction. “So, let's have it then, girl. Why are we allowing ourselves to be distracted by a princess of the enemy?"

“I assure you, the Caushae are not your enemy," Jinory said in practiced, patient Sol Common.

“You'll forgive me my skepticism," the admiral interjected, pointing pointedly at the sky.

“The Royal Dominion are not representative of all Caushae," Jinory explained. “You have to understand, I am from the Azon System. We are peaceful people, each Caushae system just trying to live day by day since the collapse of our central government. We were doing well. We were reforming ties between systems and royal families lost over time. Things were looking up.

“Then the Royal Dominion started to spread out of the Krux System. Their conquest swallowed the Mitz, the Corgel, the Vorash Systems… everywhere the Dominion spread, death followed. And then submission and slavery of the average Caushae.

“One day they came to the Azon System. General Sorcha Krux, the spearhead of her father's expanse fell on my home world and rained fire upon us. Those who would not bow were slaughtered. Those who did bow were enslaved. My family…"

Jinory's voice broke for a moment, but swallowing hard she powered through. “My family perished. My mother and father were killed before my eyes. My brothers and sisters were taken from me one at a time when I refused to bow before General Krux.

“A rebellion had sprung up in my name, inspired by my defiance in the face of Krux and her conquest. It slowed the Royal Dominion's advance and their grip on the Azon System keeps slipping thanks to the brave rebels. The only way to break their will, Krux soon discovered, would be to make a public example of me. Either have me bow before her or bathe her hands in my blood.

“I was lucky enough to escape before she could figure it out, thanks to some friends. Some old." She looked over to Gemini with a warm smile. “And some new." Her eyes flashed to Thom and the smile warmed further. Then facing the council again, she added, “The rebellion in the Azon System still fights, as evidenced by the fleet that arrived in orbit to help fight General Krux. So long as I draw breath, they will stand with any who fight the Royal Dominion. But if Krux is not stopped, if she wraps my home in a complete stranglehold, she'll have access to the system's bountiful raw resources and numerous orbital dockyards to fuel her war efforts. Her power will triple, and she'll swallow the neighboring Caushae systems before turning her eyes to the rest of the galaxy."

There was a moment of silence as the council seemed to be taking this in. Admiral had seemingly been half tuned in, half checking the tablet in front of him, looking in on reports coming from orbit.

“Where is your evidence?" the chairwoman said suddenly.

The Caushae princess frowned. “What?"

“Your evidence. It's a lovely story you just told, but what reason do we have to believe you? Currently our ships are in orbit holding off a massive Caushae fleet."

“More than half of that Caushae fleet are the good guys!" Sammi blurted out and Thom had to physically stop her from lunging forward.

Jinory waved her friend to calm down and kept her patient tone. “She's right. The Caushae fleet are two separate factions. My people are scattered, out of contact with each other. There are more disparate Caushae factions than you realize. The Royal Dominion is a real threat, but they are separate from the rest of the Caushae. The fleet that arrived after Krux are waving different colors. They are allies. If only you would open channels of communication…"

Vaelia wanted to step forward, add more to what Jinory was saying. But she, like the whole procession here, was interrupted by an ear-splitting explosion.

There was no lead up to it. No warning. Just a whirling fireball of noise and chaos that left a dull ringing in her ears. A few unlucky members of the council were incinerated, one moment black x-rays as they sat looking on judgmentally one second, then evaporated into ash the next. The chairwoman and some of her seemingly prominent figures had just vanished in an instant.

The others were tossed clear on the wave of destruction that tore through the panoramic window behind them. Tables were tossed across the chamber and Vaelia screamed as a chair whirled past her head. She turned, the world crawling into slow motion for a second as she saw the flat of one table collided with Thom and tossed him away like an insect flicked off a sleeve on a warm summer's day.

“Thom!" she cried, the depth of her voice in that long, drawn out moment foreign to her. And then she was silenced by lancing pain in her leg.

Something hit her, took the legs out from under the griffon and laid her out across the grit-strewn floor. Gnashing her break, she forced herself to move as the onslaught continued from there. Gemini and Sammi were nowhere to be seen. She saw Taenya dive into cover nearby behind a few chunks of masonry that had dropped out of the ceiling.

What followed was a hailstorm of energy weapons fire. Blistering laser light peppered the council chamber, igniting the banners that still hung and blowing craters into the polished floor. As Vaelia moved, something hit her in the small of her back, and a terrifying throb of pain swelled about her spine.

Thankfully the body armor hewn into her clothes had absorbed and dispersed the energy packet, but typically the armor was only good for negating one or two straight shots. With more glancing hits slicing past her arms and legs, she had to move quick or be cut to ribbons.

Taenya bravely stepped out into the hailstorm, grabbed her friend by the wrist and with a desperate heave the girls slid behind the dusty rock for cover

Sergeant Fowler's cries were muffled by the ringing in Vaelia's ears and the thump of Caushae weapons. There was a ripple of assault rifle fire as the man rallied his guys for a counter attack against the invaders, but there was little they could do. They were pinned in makeshift cover on the far side of the chamber as black and red armored figures came out of the gloom, guns blazing.

Vaelia reached for her blaster, only to find it missing. The whole holster was torn free by whatever had struck her in the initial blast. Desperately she looked around, hoping to spot where it had landed. And as she looked, Vaelia peeked around the rubble to see a shapely silhouette figure stride through the banks of dust and smoke.

General Sorcha Krux had exchanged her trim dress uniform for a battle dress, sleek impact plating bulwark her shoulders, torso, thighs and shins; but even then only slightly. The blood red under-armor clashed with her metallic colored hair, but followed every sleek curve of her body like a second later of fur.

She had her blaster drawn as she strode into the chamber and descended the slope of rubble where the TAFT Council had been seated only moments ago. Still, she didn't have the weapon pointed at anything in particular. Her troopers forming around her and blanketing the marines present in suppressing fire, she had little to worry about and casually took in the situation.

Her eyes finding her elusive prize, the Caushae woman's lips drew back into a wicked smile. Weapon loosely gripped in one hand, she marched out from between her troops and closed in on a squirming lump pinned nearby.

Watching Vaelia felt her eyes widen as she saw that bloody lump was Jinory. The princess was laying on her back, a chunk of rebar re-enforced concrete having slammed into her. A part of the jagged rebar was bent out of shape, and pierced like an over-sized fish-hook through her shoulder, holding the sobbing girl down. The pinned Caushae was focused on applying pressure to the weeping wound, and didn't see the general towering over her at once.

As if feeling the chill shadow of death slide across her, Jinory paused in her efforts, then looked up slowly to the blaster leveled on her head.

“Your journey ends here, princess," Krux said with a proud smile. After all this, all this effort, all the running, and chasing, she finally had what she wanted. The prize wasn't as glorious as she had expected, and it came at the price of a sizable fleet and her capitol ship, but the result would be desirable all the same. Her finger curled on the trigger, toothy smile growing in anticipation. “The Azon Rebellion dies with you, and the system will fall to Royal Dominion."

The trigger passed the first pressure point and Vaelia saw the horrifying glow of energy build on the blaster's muzzle. She screamed at the top of her lungs, for all the good it could have gone and tried to rush forward, but a sustained burst of lasers in her direction threw a gritty cloud into her face.

There was nothing she could do. Jinory couldn't move. The marines were preoccupied. Krux was the grim reaper and she had come to collect her soul…

Except a certain astronaut with more balls than sense dashed forward and collided headlong with Krux. Her finger jerked reactivity, but the shot went wild, slamming into the rubble beside Jinory.

Cutting it tight as usual, Thom tackled Krux, and the pair tangled in each other's arms tumbled down a pile of rubble. Thom didn't much care where they landed. He was beat all to hell already, everything hurt – but as far Krux was away from Jinory the happier he felt.

They bounced heavily and Thom fell free. Krux's blaster tumbled away, sliding between some debris and out of sight. Landing on his side, the human slid to a halt a little further away, every limb throbbing in pain but a smile plastered across his face never the less.

Slowly, he pressed his hands down and heaved himself up. “That was for my ship, bitch!"

He was hardly expecting her reply to be, “And this is for mine!" as she strode over like the fall had been nothing and laid a fist into his face.

Thom was barely on his feet, and with one heavy bash of the re-enforced knuckles of her glove decked him once more.

Coughing, Thom jumped to his feet a little quicker this time, and with his arms up to defend tried to stop the onslaught of punches and kicks that came his way. Unfortunately all he could do was cower as Krux put everything she had into him. Not only had her armor taken the brunt of their tumble, she was a career killer who had put men twice Thom's size in an early grave. Nimble kick after kick broke across his ribs, punches slipping between his defending arms and jabbing at his face. Thom's brain rattled this way and that until his guard broke completely, the tang of blood vibrant on his tongue.

Krux then leaped up and wrapped him into a headlock between her legs, twisting him into a blurring tumble. Normally he wouldn't mind, having his head trapped between an attractive Caushae's thighs; except she smashed his head into the ground a moment later.

Stars exploded before Thom's eyes as Krux slowly climbed to her feet. Gone were the nimble, fancy moves. She dusted herself off, pushed aside some errant tresses and looked down at the human with something of a look of pity… disappointment even.

“Hrmph. Mediocre."

Thom seemed to try ad sit up, but she stopped him with a boot on his throat, slamming him back onto the rubble strewn ground. He choked as she applied pressure, gently at first, as if toying with him.

“It's disappointing really," she said with a sigh. “After all the trouble you caused me, I was expecting… I'm not sure… just 'more' I guess. I even considered asking you to join my crew." She gave a bitter laugh, then cocked her head. “I could have used a good helmsman. But seeing you now, I think I've reconsidered."

Thom gagged in response, struggling to draw breath. His lungs screamed for air, but as his vision narrowed, the pain in his throat numbed.

In the meantime, Krux reached back and with a rasp of steel drew a dagger from her belt. The blade tumbled between her fingers for a moment before she gripped it comfortably in an ice-pick grip. The silver metal of the weapon glinted in her eyes.

“I will miss you, Mister Crichton."

In that instance there was a flash of defiance in the human. Grabbing her foot, he pushed, letting a breath wheeze into his lungs. Not enough to make the tunnel vision go away, but enough to allow him to choke out a few words.

“It's 'Captain' Crichton, you bitch!"

Krux was so busy watching him wheeze out his last words, she didn't notice his right hand slip between a few chunks of rubble. When it sipped back out, it was holding Krux's blaster that had fallen earlier, barrel still glowing with a pre-charge.

A bolt of deadly light lanced through Krux' knee, and screaming the woman dropped backwards.

“That's for the Ronin!" Thom yelled, rolling to his feet. As he rose, another shot sliced through Krux' opposite leg. Her stumble turned into a full-blown fall and she keeled forward. “That's for Farpoint!"

He caught her as she fell. A handful of her uniform gripped in his fist, Thom dragged Krux up a little. Her knife had fallen forgotten somewhere and she now looked down the barrel of her own gun.

“And this is for Al!" Thom seethed through gritted teeth.

Cocking back, he slammed the barrel of the blaster into her face once… twice… four times… then too many times to count. She went limp in his arms, and Thom dropped the unconscious general to the ground, staggering back and catching himself on a chunk of rubble.

In Krux's fall, a strange silence fell over the chamber. The Royal Dominion troopers were routed, either eviscerated by TAFT re-reinforcements or cut down as they turned tail and run. Shouts for medics filled the void.

Sergeant Fowler was staggering closer, the limp form of the TAFT admiral supported across his shoulders. The older man was bleeding from a laser burn that had glanced his chest, but he kept his feet defiantly.

The marines surrounded Krux's unconscious form and immediately started restraining her along with a few other RD prisoners with zip-ties.

“Admiral?" Thom asked, catching his breath.

The man waved him off. “I'm fine." Coughing and hoarse, he separated himself from Sergeant Fowler.

“But the troops in orbit are not," Thom reasoned. “Sir, you have to believe us. This is General Krux. Didn't you see? She went straight for Jinory."

“I saw," he muttered, regarding the emblem of the Royal Dominion on the fallen general's uniform. After a moment's internal deliberation, he sighed and waved over a marine with comms gear on his back. He picked up the earpiece and turned a few dials. “This is Admiral Greene. Put me through to fleet-comm. Priority, zero-Uniform-six-nine-eight-four-three… you heard that code right, son now get it done."

As the admiral was speaking on the radio, trying to get through to orbit, Thom turned in time to see Vaelia slide down towards them.

Dust clung to the wet fur on her cheeks as she came down, and she didn't waste a second throwing herself on the human. Thom hugged her back, dropping Krux's blaster at the same time. No need for it now anyway.

“Jinory?" he asked, and Vaelia quickly nodded.

“She's fine. Medics are seeing to her now. The others are fine too. There's a drop ship on the way to take us to hospital, and some of Fowler's men have offered to escort in case of leftover enemies in the area."

Thom looked back at Admiral Greene as he relayed new orders to the TAFT defense fleet. “Well why didn't anyone notice the discrepancy in colors they were flying before? Open the damn channels to the new Caushae fleet. They're here to help us, not fight us! All ships target red and black, priority one!"

As the battle upstairs turned, General Krux was dragged away and the hum of drop ship engines grew louder as their ride to a hospital got closer, Thom turned back to Vaelia. She smiled a small smile. A smile of relief.

“… it's over."

*****{{~~~}}*****

Technically, it wasn't totally over. Vaelia had just been dramatic. But in the calm of the moment, there was no way she could have known that.

Total chaos at the hospital followed, along with questioning after questioning, TAFT bureaucrat after bureaucrat dragging them in for debriefing after debriefing. Thinking back on it, Thom made a queasy retching sound.

Weeks dragged past. Wounds mended, bruises faded. Warm beds, hot meals and well-deserved rest followed. Before he knew it, as cases were closed and the TAFT government provided full bed and board to Thom and the girls, he actually started enjoying himself.

After the TAFT fleet and the Azon System Caushae turned their guns on Krux's fleet, the Royal Dominion attackers were obliterated. General Krux, now in a high security TAFT detention facility would go on trial next month. TAFT and the Caushae Reformists had established a cease fire with Jinory's help.

The war, though short, was over and life largely returned to normal…

There was a knock on the hotel door, and before Thom could turn away from the window to answer, it slid open and five alien women let themselves in.

… for a given value of normal.

The TAFT government had put them up in a rather nice hotel. Everyone had their own rooms, but visits like these were frequent, for rather obvious reasons. That being said, Thom felt his heart sink. He'd been expecting this visit to come for some time now.

“It's settled then?" Thom asked.

Jinory, standing in front of her friends nodded. Though enthusiastic, her expression was also solemn. “It's settled. I just met with Admiral Greene. He has agreed to put me on a diplomatic envoy to the Azon System. We go tomorrow."

Thom nodded. “You're going to fix what Krux broke."

Taenya nodded. “The Caushae are a scattered people, but with Jinory's help and the support of our neighboring systems, we can bring them back to the light of a reformed Sovereignty. As the Royal Dominion crumbles, there will be more Caushae systems in disarray who will need our help."

“and if anyone can help them, I can't think of anyone but you," Thom said with a smile.

Jinory chuckled and brushed a few tresses from her face. “Thank you. But, I have to admit, I'm not going to feel as safe as I had on board the Ronin. It's not going to be the same without you."

“Ah, come off it. You're going to bump into some other dashing human diplomat in the envoy and you're going to be right at home."

Rubbing her chin, Jinory smiled with a dazed look of anticipation. “Oh, since you put it that way, I actually can't wait to get going," she joked.

The girls laughed, and Thom rolled his eyes humorously.

In the same breath, Jinory moved forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “He won't be you, though."

Her head tilted to one side, and her face angled up at him, the princess eased in close. Her hand slid up around his neck as she felt Thom's hands on her hips. Her breasts were firm against his chest, and her lips warm on his as their tongues probed one-another in a deep kiss.

At the same time, four other alien woman looked on jealously. Though none of them wanted to interrupt the tender moment.

A tender moment, by the way, that was turning more heated and passionate by the second. Jinory's nails set into Thom's skin and they pressed tighter to one another. Their hands roamed, their bodies grinding this way and that…

And suddenly Jinory yelped, breaking the kiss and clutching her shoulder. Human med-tech was pretty good, and Caushae were generally quite tough, but her injuries hadn't fully healed yet and she sheepishly had to step back from Thom before she got over-excited.

“Maybe I'm not in the right state to fully express my thanks for your help, Thom," Jinory admitted. “But that's the great thing about having friends."

As Jinory stepped back, Gemini, Sammi and Vaelia darted forward.

Vaelia was on his first. For all of Sammi's agility and Gemini's Amazonian power, neither of them could stop the griffin from nailing Thom with a whipper of a kiss that sent them tumbling onto the bed. The girls merely giggled and followed the duo down, while Taenya helped Jinory into a nearby seat to watch.

The trio on the human had his clothes – and their own for that matter – off in a mere few seconds, and with Vaelia sitting on top of him, making out frantically with Thom, Gemini and Sammi eased themselves lower, sharing his length between their mouths. They were kissing as well, albeit with the human's throbbing erection trapped between the sweet embrace of their warm lips and the lashings of their wet tongues.

Jinory watched biting her bottom lip as Gemini eventually stood and turned about. Then easing herself down she speared herself on Thom's cock, earning a cry muffled by Vaelia's beak. Sammi at the same time settled between Gemini's legs, and while the Lycan bounced in Thom's lap, the lapin's tongue worked across her sensitive clit and whatever of Thom's glistening shaft she could reach between thrusts.

In an un-princess like move, Jinory boldly lifted her dress and slid her fingers into her panties, frantically fingering herself as she seemed content to watch her friends take turns on Thom. It wasn't long before Taenya helped out. on her knees the mouse pulled away Jinory's panties and her skillful tongue set to work between her swollen, yearning lips. Jinory lost the run of herself immediately, her moans as loud as those of Gemini, Sammi and Vaelia as Thom's cock plunged into each of them one after the other. But not once did she let her eyes flutter away from the divine show being put on for her.

Maybe a few hours, and countless positions and partner-swaps later, Sammi was snoozing with her head between Gemini's breasts, whose chest rose and fell slowly with every long snore. Jinory and Taenya had gone out to get something to drink. And on the bed beside the sleeping women, Vaelia was on her back, legs wrapped around Thom's waist as his hips moved back and forth, a small wet patch of the griffon's approval forming on the bed sheets under her.

Vaelia held on possessively, hogging Thom all to herself. And while he wasn't pounding her frantically, rather sliding slowly out, and almost timidly delving back inside, filling her yearning cavity until his crown tenderly kissed the mouth of her cervix, Vaelia still gave shuddering little moans of contented pleasure. She wasn't driven to the mind-blowing ends of passionate ecstasy, but she was right in that romantic comfort zone she would be content to remain in for the rest of her mortal existence.

“I want to stay here forever," she whispered in his ear, wrapping her arms tightly around his back. “I don't want life to lead me away from you, Thom."

He smiled. “Then stay with me." He brushed a few locks of her hair from her eyes. “I mean; I've come to rather enjoy your company."

She giggled, her canal clenching his member. “I love you too, Thom."

Pressing his mouth to hers, he kissed the beautiful griffon passionately, his hips rolling to thrust deep inside her again. His pace moved from the slow romantic lunges, and with deep, passionate thrusts delving into her sensitive, squirming depths, Thom brought Vaelia higher and higher to the summit of orgasm.

The pain of their bruises and fatigue melted away. In its place, the pleasure of each other's company, wet and hot wrapped about each other. They lost track of time again, seconds turning to long, drawn out minutes filled with wet slaps of flesh and fresh moans of ecstasy.

Until finally, Thom stiffened and spent deep inside his gorgeous alien waifu, her chirps of pure joy encouraging his every spurt filling her womb, warming her core…

Comforting Vaelia in a way that was long – long – overdue.

*****{{~~~}}*****

Several days, and a few more exciting romps later, Thom and Vaelia sat in the park, the Spire somewhere behind them as they basked in the early summer rays.

Sitting in the thick, soft grass side by side, the couple were facing in the direction of the spaceport, listening to the sounds of construction. Repairs to Geneva, and the rest of the world affected by the battle for Earth, were in full swing. Heavy lift cargo shuttles ferried supplies to-and-fro, jetting into orbit or cruising down from the hazy blue above. The orbital elevators were so backed up that the TAFT Council temporarily lifted all carbon taxes on conventional orbital travel, just so life for Earthlings was able to proceed as normal. No doubt the orbital docks were rippling with similar activity to affect repairs to commercial liners as well as the many TAFT vessels wounded or lost in the battle.

Among the plethora of whooshing shuttles though, Thom's practiced eye picked out one craft in particular. He pointed it out immediately, drawing Vaelia's attention to it.

“There she goes," he said with a smile.

They waved as the shuttle hovered, pivoting on the spot then jetted into the sky. There was no way in hell Jinory and Taenya could have known Thom and Vaelia were seeing them off but giving their shuttle one last wave before they left Earth just felt good.

Vaelia sighed as she settled back into the grass. “Do you think it will work? Do you think Jinory will form a new Caushae Sovereignty?"

Thom nodded. “It should. After everything that's happened, everything we had to lose…"

He stopped dead, thoughts wandering to Al and the Starcast Ronin. His friend and his home, both casualties in a short and pointless war. Ronin, warriors with no master bar the desire to do right, who had given their lives to a noble cause.

Thom missed them terribly.

“Everything is going to get better from here on out," he added firmly. “It has to."

Nothing was said for a good while, and with some concern Thom glanced sideways at Vaelia. He caught her smiling at him in an odd way, prompting him to arch an eyebrow.

“What?"

Her eyes shone happily as she answered: “I'm pregnant."

Years later, Thom would think back to the moment wishing he could have seen his own expression.

The End...?