One of my last 'rewards' was an upgrade of the Life Story to Extraordinary, so let's see if it lives up to the grade. A quick thought revealed that Be'larien was considered 100 Thelossian years old, or about 80 Earth years. That meant his Life Story would be twice as long as his actual life on Earth. *sigh* I guess I should start from the beginning.
Be'larien was apparently the firstborn of a Life-Bonded couple on a new Thelossian colony planet. Life-Bonding was not the same as marriage. It was a declaration between two Thelossians that they wished to spend their life together and even have children, assuming at least one of them was female. It did not preclude them from having other partners, nor even other Life-Bonds. The largest known group-sworn Life-Bond was between 27 individuals.
His 'father' had been a low-level Engineer and his mother worked as a Quartermaster. Be'larien's childhood had been loving and cheerful, though he had to do his best to ignore some aspects of the memories. Thelossian adults did not hide their sexual natures from their children, which made it especially important that pedophilia apparently didn't exist in their species. He supposed he should be grateful that the clothing of Thelossian children was a little closer to what he thought of as appropriate, consisting mostly of shorts and tank-tops. Thelossians tended to live on warm worlds.
Deciding he should shift his time perspective to stick with Thelossian standards, Be'larien's childhood in that case retained its happiness until he was 8. An easily irritated Enato'viri passed through their system, and on passing too close to the sun was hit by a solar flare. In a fit of pique, it promptly destroyed the offending star. The Thelossian colony only had a few minutes warning of their impending doom.
Even for such an advanced race there was nowhere near enough time to perform a worldwide evacuation. Be'larien had been brought by his 'father' to his workplace that day, and he was explaining to Be'larien the use of some of the more interesting tools when the warning came. There wasn't nearly enough time to get to one of the evacuation areas. By a stroke of fate there was a single long-range escape pod in a nearby station for maintenance. But it could only take a single occupant.
While crying and begging him not to, Be'larien's father forced him into the pod and strapped him in. After setting the course to the nearest Thelossian main world via a major shipping lane, Be'larien's father forced the escape pod hatch shut. Be'lariens last view of his father was his tear streaked face screaming that he loved him.
Even while failing to hold back his tears at the visceral memory, Be'larien still tried to be belligerent. What's up with this Life Story? Am I supposed to be S*perm*n?
The 8 year old Be'larien was screaming and crying, and beating against the sealed hatch as he hurtled away from his birth planet. His last view before shifting to FTL was his planet starting to break apart as an endless wall of distorted space closed in. Be'larien was ultimately picked up by a Thelossian military vessel on the shipping lanes before reaching a main world. He was comforted and cared for, and transported to what amounted to a foster home on Alabrax, the 3rd of the five Thelossian main worlds.
That said, it was a large house run by two male and five female Thelossians who took care of children orphaned by war or natural disaster. In Be'larien's house there were only six other children, 2 'boys' and 4 girls. It was just as caring and loving an environment as his own home had been, and he became good friends with the other children. Though his best friend by far was another one of the boys who happened to be the same age, Te'larias Lo'tsinia.
Te'larias was considered only slightly above average by Thelossian standards in appearance, but was even as a child gorgeous from human perspective. He was delicate by the races standard, and his most defining features were emerald colored hair he kept long enough to reach mid-back and golden colored irises. In time, Be'larien and Te'larias practically became joined at the hip. Pulling pranks, playing games, and getting punished, they did practically everything together. They also gave each other the 'nicknames' they continued to use. Be'larien became Bel, and Te'larias became Tas.
As they grew older it became apparent Bel possessed amazing talent for combat and psionics, while Tas was average, though this didn't shake their friendship. In the end though, they were destined to be parted. Shortly before they turned 25, when puberty would start to kick in and their libidos awaken, all Thelossian children were tested and sorted into military academies. Bel was admitted to the Prime Military Academy on Thelos, the Home World. Tas was sent to a regional military academy on Alabrax.
They cried on parting, hugging and promising to stay in touch. But such promises are sometimes hard to keep. Bel's travel to Thelos was uneventful, but his first view of the planet was breathtaking. Thelos was the pinnacle of science that worked with nature instead of against it, a trait that was sadly lacking in all the other Thelossian colonized worlds.
There were trees the size of mountains that served as homes and office buildings, with waterfalls cascading down from the high boughs and small lakes and gardens among the branches. Islands floated through the sky, carrying their lakes, forests, and hidden occupants around the world. If you removed the vehicles flying through the air you would be hard pressed to find the signs of civilization.
The Prime Military Academy turned out to be in and around a collection of five of the giant trees. The trees had an iridescent black bark, with leaves of purple and zendet, zendet being a color of the ultra-violet spectrum. Bel's entering class had exactly 500 students, which demonstrated the strict requirements of the Academy. It only trained those with the potential to be elites.
Be'larien of the present had to practice extreme focus on the memories of the Academy, as there was much he had to ignore to avoid giving himself a mental breakdown. The time at the Academy was basically divided between military and general education, and then extremely hands-on XXX-rated sex ed. And as much as Be'larien hated to admit it, that last part was necessary.
The Thelossian libido was no joke. When it hit, it hit like a freight train. Shortly after Bel's libido surfaced he could barely last two hours without relieving himself, and he was one of those with the greatest willpower. Many could barely manage half an hour between sessions. There wasn't even relief to be found in sleep, as Thelossians only slept as infants and when heavily injured.
In eras past, the next 10 years would have been a Thelossian's most promiscuous years, which is saying something. Over that time their minds would adapt to their libido and sexual activity would become segregated in their minds from other higher brain function. It had been speculated that the Thelossian's advanced, segmented mind structure was a direct result of evolution compensating for their libido.
But training in the military academy was focused on rapidly accelerating this segmentation and increasing control over the libido. Part of this was education in advanced sexual techniques. As far as Be'larien could ascertain, Thelossians would treat the Kama Sutra as little more than a beginner's primer.
In his second year, Bel had taken an exam where he simultaneously field dressed several standard military weapons, delivered an oral report on the reasons behind the Thelossian policing actions taken during the Nabraxian Migration, and solved advanced mathematical formulas on a holographic screen using a Directed Thought Interface (DTI). All of this while an assigned partner was doing things to his nether regions that would reduce a human to a mindless quivering mass of orgasmic flesh, which one segment of his mind was fully immersed in and enjoying. And then he returned the favor during his partner's exam.
Be'larien had to take a moment to stop reviewing the memories. Thelossian memory was just too good. 'Remembering' these events was just like re-living them. Sight, sound, and sensation - oh god, sensation - were recorded in perfection. By focusing on the 'memory' he may as well be experiencing it.
Working to calm his elevated breathing, Be'larien looked down at himself. He had a light sheen of sweat, his nipples were hard as diamonds, and his not-so-little friend was attempting to rip through his shorts. He could feel his face burning in shame, for reasons that a true Thelossian would find silly.
Focus, Be'larien. These things didn't really happen. It's just the Life Story. What made it extra important to remember that all these things never really happened were the memories he was ignoring. Those memories contained things that would probably break him. Because for Thelossians, at least among other Thelossians, the genitalia of their partners didn't matter.
He leaned as far back into Hasa's fur as he could go. In the sea of insanity he felt swelling around him, Hasa was the indelible, imperturbable rock that kept him from being swept away. As much as Be'larien felt like cursing the system, or whoever was behind it, to the blackest depths of hell for his current circumstances, he also had to offer his deepest, most heartfelt blessing for giving him Hasa.
Having calmed himself, Be'larien knew he had to go back into the 'memories'. He might only look 18 to 22 to a human, but according to the Life Story he was 5 times that age. So he hadn't covered even half of his 'life' yet.
Back in the memories, Be'larien tried to focus solely on the military and general education. Free movement, unarmed combat, melee weapons, pistols, rifles, explosives, math, physics, chemistry, biology, history, their training included this and more. All of it was at a level that would have driven Earth's soldiers and scientists to insanity. Be'larien finally understood the character creation system's apparent disdain for human technology and skills. By the standards of Freedom Universe, the most advanced athletes, fighters, and scientists of Earth wouldn't exceed the Apprentice level in anything. It was a fairly depressing realization.
Bel showed extreme gifts with unarmed combat, and so was given more and better instruction to pull out his potential. During this time students were also tested for psionic ability. Bel showed extraordinary gifts here as well, quickly advancing with meditation, telekinesis, and telepathy. He was so gifted that the dean of the academy took it upon herself to teach Bel the Thelossian's most powerful and complex psionic techniques, the Immortal Pleasures. These turned out to be the 'sexual' abilities that Be'larien had almost completely upgraded to Master in character creation.
These techniques, which even the most gifted of Thelossians had difficulty even gaining a basic comprehension of, came to Bel with heaven-defying ease. The techniques used the ephemeral higher-level energy forms generated during sex to temper the mind and body while refining and condensing psionic energy. The dean was shocked and delighted, in more ways than one, by Bel's mind-boggling progression with the Immortal Pleasures. She was almost 300 years old and had only achieved the Apprentice level, but by the time Bel graduated the academy he was already at the Journeyman level.
Of course, Be'larien became aware that the Apprentice/Journeyman rankings were solely relevant to character creation. Skills and abilities in Freedom Universe didn't actually use such designations. The Immortal Pleasures were split into seven levels of mastery with eight layers in each level. Apprentice would be equivalent to the second level. Journeyman would cover levels three and four, and Bel was at the peak of level three when he graduated.
In fact, Be'larien learned that he'd made a great many wrong assumptions from character creation. Height wasn't an actual attribute in Freedom Universe, just a modifier for the other attributes, and the difference between rankings was far more massive than the Height example he was given led him to believe. There was no measure for growth or psionics potential, and in fact psionics had its own measuring system. All of the other attributes used what was known as the Vis'nhoc ranking system, which roughly translated as 'true strength'. The ranks went from 0 to 100, with each level increasing on an expanding exponential scale.
Humans would be considered in the low to mid 10s. A being at rank 100 could destroy planets, which might give some idea on the progression between ranks. Rank 100 wasn't the absolute limit though, it was just the limit of current technology to measure. There were a small number of beings referred to as the Anat'runhaki, which sounded cool but literally meant 'beyond measure'.
Be'larien came back out of his Life Story and turned his attention to his bracelet. All such bracelets beyond the 2nd generation models had DTIs. Display current height and attributes.
A holographic screen projected from the bracelet, in a fashion that the displayed information was only visible to Be'larien's eyes.
[Height: 3.32 fels
Inter-Molecular Bonding: 5,672 orvs, Vis'nhoc Rank: 42
Musculo-Skeletal Output: 9,146 galds, Vish'nhoc Rank: 41
Neuro-Muscular Response: 7.8 microtevs, Vis'nhoc Rank: 78
Neural Processing: 368 silvas, Vis'nhoc Rank: 82
Memory Capacity: Immeasurable, Vis'nhoc Rank: Anat'runhaki
Psionic Advancement: Compression Stage 4th Level]
Be'larien's eyes nearly bugged out. He hadn't quite finished going through the memories of the academy, but he already knew these values were ridiculous for a 100 year old Thelossian, except the height and memory capacity. A fel was about equal to 2 feet on Earth, meaning he was between 6'7" and 6'9", barely higher than average for a Thelossian. And Thelossians were one of several species born with perfect memory, so there was no limit to be measured.
Everything else was off the charts though. For a normal Thelossian his age, Inter-Molecular Bonding would be in the lower 30s, Musculo-Skeletal Output would be in the upper 20s, Neuro-Muscular Response would be in the upper 60s, and Neural Processing would be in the lower 70s. And his Psionic Advancement would make some older Thelossians swallow their tongues.
Psionics were divided into 7 stages with 12 levels each. The stages were Opening, Movement, Compression, Materialization, Projection, Connection, and Creation. Most Thelossians were well over 200 years old before they even broke into the Compression stage, let alone advanced the internal levels.
But ultimately, psionics were mostly only useful for general telekinesis and telepathy before the Materialization stage. Psionic energy used for body and mind tempering in the early stages suffered a great deal of waste and progression was thus limited. After achieving Materialization though, psionic practitioners quickly became the most powerful individuals in the universe. And the further you progressed in psionic stages, the more powerful you would become.
Be'larien was excited by this discovery of how powerful he already was, but decided he needed to finish going through his Life Story to really understand what it meant. Sinking back into the memories, Be'larien quickly reached his graduation.
Bel graduated at the top of his class, with scores well beyond any of his fellows. Bel hadn't made any real friends at the academy, the other students being jealous, intimidated, or enraptured by his beauty. Speaking of his beauty, that was something else Be'larien had been trying to avoid focusing on.
He finally knew his hair was silver. Not silvery grey, but the actual color and metallic luster of silver. His eyes were a deep, almost glowing violet. As for his face, Be'larien wasn't even sure of the right words. Lips, nose, eyes, teeth, chin, cheeks, eyebrows, eyelashes, forehead slope, none of these things seemed that amazing when focused on individually. Yet when added together they created a masterpiece that would've had men and women on Earth professing their eternal love and fighting to the death for his affections. The current Be'larien actually felt his hearts skip a beat whenever he came across his reflection in a memory.
Regardless of all that, after graduation Bel was granted a low-level officer's position on a Selbevia Class warship to start his 50 years of mandatory active service. Selbevia's were the second most powerful ships in the Thelossian fleet, only superseded by the Elunis Class flagships. Such a posting was extraordinarily rare for a fresh cadet, and nearly unheard of with an officer's position. Needless to say, Bel's presence was not well received in the beginning.
Bel's posting was as a Ne'zheal 3rd Class in the navigation department, a position approximate to an Ensign. His ship was named the Ona'vhi, meaning roughly The Burning Flower. His first few months on the Ona'vhi were met with a rather cold reception, at least for Thelossians. This meant that while his fellows were perfectly willing to provide training and sex, they weren't willing to provide real camaraderie. Emotionally, it was a lonely time for Bel.
Eventually the mood thawed, and Bel started to make some real friendships. But during that same time, Bel was learning some of the darker truths of inter-galactic life. Crime will always exist in its myriad forms regardless of how advanced civilization becomes. Black market smuggling, corruption, murder, piracy, and slavery were alive and well in Freedom Universe, and it was the Thelossians' job to keep them frightened and cowed in the Federation. Especially slavers.
Slavery would always have a market with the depraved, and there were always those greedy enough to provide supply. Sad to say, advanced mental programming technology made turning almost anyone into a perfect slave all too easy to accomplish. And to those in the sex slave business, Thelossians looked like prime goods. Of course, any individual or organization greedy and stupid enough to try to enslave a Thelossian was not long for living.
The Thelossian's current military society was a direct result of their first forays into the wider universe. The first Thelossian interstellar ships didn't even have weapons, the Thelossians not having known war in their entire, to then, recorded history. The pirates and criminals of space saw endless profit from the Thelossians and proceeded to capture them at every opportunity, ultimately proceeding to ransack the Thelossian home world.
Realizing the possible imminent enslavement and destruction of their entire species, the Thelossians quickly adapted their existing tools and technology into effective weapons. By the time the situation stabilized, less than 20% of Thelossians were still alive and free.
Coming to understand that the wider universe was a dangerous place, the Thelossians turned insular and began to train and develop weaponry. For nearly 5,000 years the Thelossians remained on their heavily guarded home world, constantly advancing their military technology and combat potential. When they re-entered the universe, the Thelossians embodied an old Earth saying: "Speak softly, and carry a big stick."
What followed was the only time in their history the Thelossians had initiated hostilities. They proceeded to track down and eliminate all organizations and peoples that had attacked and enslaved their race in the past. The tragedies of that time are countless, the Thelossians having found many places where their kind had been genetically modified and grown in vats to be sold as mindless sex puppets. Entire worlds were obliterated by the Thelossians, inspired by a rage they had never known before or since. That period, known to Thelossians as The Great Retribution, and to others as The Thelossian War of Vengeance, eventually became the starting point of the current Federation.
The Thelossians did not forget, and so their military society and advancement continued on. Now, more than six hundred thousand years later, the Thelossians served as defenders for the Federation, and occasionally performed policing actions when deemed appropriate. Though the destruction of slavers was still treated as a racial vendetta.
As luck would have it, Bel's first combat experience was against slavers. They received a report that pirates had raided one of their least defended colony worlds. Although the pirates took heavy damage, losing 8 ships and nearly 400 crew, two ships escaped with nearly two dozen captives, almost half of them children.
With Thelossian resources it didn't even take half a day to find the pirates and their base. The Thelossians were always amazed that people could be greedy and stupid enough to still try to enslave members of their race. The longest such an organization had survived in the last 10,000 years was 11 days, and that was with assistance from corruption at the highest levels of the Federation government. The second longest was less than 3 days. It was hard to imagine people being that stupid, but when they saw the current black market rate for a single Thelossian slave was nearly a hundred million credits, their brains seemed to disappear in a puff of smoke.
The Ona'vhi was deployed, and Bel was tagged by his commanding officer to join the raid. Thelossian combat gear was perhaps the only clothing they had with full skin coverage, which tempted the current Be'larien to put his own on, but he held off for now. The armor consisted of an under armor that looked like a full body stocking with gloves, boots layered with nano-reactive armor, the nano-reactive armor itself which looked like a fancy belt when inactive but spread across the body like high-tech plate armor for combat, and an armored helmet with a face plate.
The pirates' ships and base defenses were destroyed by the Ona'vhi's weapons, and Bel went down with the strike team to eliminate the pirates in the base and retrieve the captives. There was no concern the captives would be used as shields or hostages. This stemmed from a weapon of the Thelossians known as the Nanite Plague. Any being not a Thelossian, and with a physical ranking below 80, would be decomposed in a manner that was painful and horrible beyond imagining. Thelossians were loath to use it, but would not hesitate when ensuring the safety of their people.
At this point, the pirates were fighting out of belligerence and desperation. They knew they were dead, and they wouldn't make it worse for themselves by forcing a release of the Nanite Plague, but they were determined to take a few Thelossians with them.
The first pirate Bel killed nearly made him throw up. The Theltan Pulsar Pistol he was using caused the pirate to explode in a cloud of blood and charred entrails, splattering the walls and ground. Bel separated that nauseous part from his primary focus, allowing it to be sick in the back of his mind, while he continued with the purge.
The procession through the base was fairly quick, though the squishing sensation of the bloody, charred remnants of the pirates that Bel walked through would remain with him in his nightmares. They captured the ringleader, a Salnakti, which was a race that looked exactly like humans with light blue skin and solid black eyes. When they rescued the captives, both Bel and Be'larien's hearts broke.
The children were, thankfully, mostly unharmed. But the majority of the adults had already been put through mental reprogramming. Bel walked into a room with nearly a dozen Thelossians, male and female, down on their hands and knees, presenting themselves and begging lustfully to be sexually degraded in every way imaginable. They had almost no thoughts left other than being used as sex objects.
It was despairingly easy for minds to be broken in such a fashion, but the work of years to reverse the damage, if it could ever truly be fully reversed at all. Only if someone's Neural Processing was in at least the upper 80s could they resist modern mental programming methods. From this incident Bel's heart was lit with the eternal rage the Thelossians had for slavers. They were the only type of criminal against which the Thelossians were truly ruthless.
The pirate leader's execution was broadcast through the Federation as an example. Only beings considered adults by their people could watch. And it was beyond horrible. The leader was executed by Nanite Plague. He basically melted from the outside-in without ever losing the ability to feel pain, in fact the pain was amplified several times. His screams were beyond haunting. Bel barely even blinked as he watched it in person, thinking that the vile son of a bitch was getting off easy.
After that things returned almost exactly to how they were going before they eliminated the pirates. The only difference to Bel was that he was now fully accepted by the crew as a seasoned soldier. As time passed Bel learned the intricacies of piloting from the members of the navigation team, continued to sharpen his skills, and was slowly promoted to Ne'zheal 1st Class. He was enraged and saddened though that slaving attempts seemed to occur every 4-6 years, despite the savage retaliation.
And then, in Bel's 32nd year on the Ona'vhi, came the Vilmex Expansion War. Be'larien desperately wanted to ignore these 'memories', despite how massively important they were, and for two distinct reasons. First, just barely peeking into some of these memories was nearly enough to give him PTSD. And the second reason was almost more compelling.
During the war, Bel formed an extremely deep relationship with his commanding officer. So deep that during the war they swore a Life-Bond. And this relationship was intrinsically twined with much of the war. But looking at one of the memories of them almost gave Be'larien an aneurysm before he pulled back. It started with him giving a report to the officer while the officer was riding him like a stallion, but as the memory continued he wound up riding his officer like the stallion. The officer was another male Thelossian.
Be'larien was fully back in the present, doing his best to tell himself that none of the memories were real, and the memories of the war weren't really that important. There was also a fragment of his mind reciting a mantra. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not-
His newest breakdown was again interrupted by a loud huff. He looked up to find himself eye to eye with Hasa, who promptly leaned down and bumped Be'larien in the stomach with his nose, with just a little real force. A strong thought impression was sent to Be'larien. Please stop worrying over such meaningless things. You were who you were, you are who you are, and you will be who you will be. The only person hurt when you fight yourself is yourself. You are Thelossian now. Acknowledge it, accept it, and then you can let go.
There was no admonishment in the thought. Just love and a desire for Be'larien to stop hurting himself. Trying not to tear up, Be'larien send back his own thoughts. I'm sorry Hasa. My mind is still an Earthling's, and so I still have an Earthling's baggage.
Hasa gave an amused snort and gently nuzzled Be'larien this time. He sent a new thought. Silly beloved one, it's only baggage while you persist in holding on to it.
Be'larien sighed and smiled a bit as he once again got comfortable in Hasa's fur. His own thoughts returned to Hasa. If only it were that easy, dearest one.
Thinking about it, Be'larien realized that the words coming across in his communication with Hasa were open for misinterpretation. They weren't actually communicating in 'words', but pure meaning, yet some of the 'words' translated in his brain seemed like romantic endearments. There was actually no romance involved, but the closest interpretations of the meaning came out as such.
Not that this helped with the memories. Those were 100% romance. Deciding to man up, so to speak, Be'larien dove back into the memories, doing his best to keep the focus away from the sex in the relationship whenever possible, which proved depressingly little.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
The Vilmex developed in un-unified space, meaning areas of the universe not under a central governing body, which still amounted to about 93% of the universe. They were a militaristic race based on the foundation of "might makes right". In their culture personal strength determined your position in society. It is somewhat amazing they survived as a race, let alone achieved interstellar travel.
They had spent the last few dozen millennia destroying and consuming every other civilization in their sector. Their behavior was like locusts, and their numbers only added to the impression. Their fleet consisted of millions of ships. And now they were moving their armada into Federation controlled space.
The first world's fell quickly under their numbers. They were far from the Federation core worlds and almost on the opposite side from the Thelossian controlled worlds. The first part of the war was fought by the Federation Armed Forces (FAF), the 'official' defenders of the Federation, who failed miserably. They just couldn't compete when their ships were outnumbered at least 20 to 1 in every confrontation. Then the Federation asked the Thelossians to step in.
If the Vilmex had ever bothered with anything like information gathering before expanding, they probably wouldn't have attacked the Federation. No outside force had had the guts to perform more than intermittent raids on Federation territory for nearly a hundred thousand years. All because full scale war with the Federation always brought the Thelossians. And the Thelossians brought death.
As far as space combat goes, the battle with the Vilmex was less a war and more of a slaughter. Thelossian ships didn't even have to worry if they weren't outnumbered at least 100 to 1. And Elunis Class flagships couldn't even be scratched by Vilmex weaponry, destroying their ships at leisure.
The Vilmex stood no chance in a ship confrontation. But since the Thelossians were trying to reclaim habitable planets and save as many of the Federation citizens as possible, they couldn't rely on orbital bombardment or the Nanite Plague to kill Vilmex on the ground. While the ground assault vehicles were of course a match for hordes of Vilmex, they couldn't be used to clear buildings, forests, and caves without leveling everything in sight. So the ground troops still had to fight.
However, the ground war to reclaim lost planets turned out to be a veritable nightmare of a sh*t storm. Vilmex were one of the very rare races that developed on a planet with almost no water. Beings that developed under such conditions were always extremely powerful, at least physically. The Vilmex looked like a cross between a horse and scorpion that had been carved out of red jade with blue marbles inserted for their 9 eyes. The race averaged about 5.6 fels tall and 7.2 fels long. But the most important aspect was that even the weakest members of their race ranked in the 60s for both Inter-Molecular Bonding and Musculo-Skeletal Output. As ground troops go, they're some of the scariest bastards in the universe.
With Bel's aptitude for combat he was re-assigned from navigation to a ground assault team. That was where he met Si'vizhil 1st Class Vo'natiri Kal'vardiem, commander of the 437th Heavy Assault Unit. Vo'natiri was a slender Thelossian of similar height to Bel, with B-cup breasts, sky-blue hair down to his shoulders, sapphire blue eyes, and a beauty that was more intense than enrapturing. Bel had been instantly attracted. Be'larien on the other hand was gritting his teeth to not break away from the memory.
Bel only shared a few short words with Vo'natiri before their first deployment. And that's when Bel truly learned of war. He thought he'd known from the battles with pirates, but those were little more than executions of criminals that never stood a chance. None of that prepared him for the Vilmex. For the visceral terror caused by their ruthless methods of combat. For the sight of a Vilmex missing half its limbs and most of its face, spurting green blood all over the ground, continuing a head long charge that ended with the Thelossian next to him spitted on a bone scythe attached to its remaining arm. A charge that could have just as easily ended with him on that scythe.
It didn't prepare him for the horror of watching his fellow soldier's organs explode out of her back. For being showered in her blood and viscera. Or for being then showered in the blood and viscera of the Vilmex as it was torn apart under heavy weapons bombardment, an unmistakable glimmer of joy in its remaining eyes for having taken down an enemy with it. It didn't prepare him for the guilt of not being able to save someone.
After that first battle, back on the ship, Bel sat by himself in the mess hall with a blank look on his face. In his mind the death of the soldier next to him played over and over again. It hadn't affected him in battle, his gun had been one of the ones to blast the Vilmex into pieces. But now it was all he could think about. He hadn't even spoken with the girl before she died.
It was during this that Vo'natiri found him. Vo'natiri was a true veteran soldier, he'd served his 50 years and stayed on in active service. At nearly 400 years old, he'd seen 2 or 3 sh*t storms that rivaled a fight with the Vilmex. But this wasn't a single fight, but a war. And the Vilmex were so numerous that the war would likely drag on for years. Deciding Bel might need some guidance and a chance to unload, Vo'natiri invited him to talk.
And talk they did, and only that. Bel spoke of his life and what happened in the battle. Then Vo'natiri shared tales of his life and the previous battles he'd been in. They spoke for an entire night. By morning, Bel was infatuated. Though nothing happened between them until after five more battles.
Bel had just finished giving a report on casualties and damages taken in the most recent city reclamation. Normally he'd salute and leave, only this time he didn't. Almost without conscious thought, Bel took three rapid steps forward and kissed Vo'natiri more passionately than he'd ever kissed anyone. Not more than 5 tevs later they were both removing their armor, freeing their breasts and-
Be'larien had to stop. The conflict between who he was as an Earthling and these far too real 'memories' was driving him insane. He desperately wanted to curse whoever created this Life Story, especially for making it so real that to remember it was to experience it, in perfect clarity. When he remembered Vo'natiri, he desired him, he felt him, he tasted him, he loved him. But it wasn't real, and the Earthling in Be'larien had to desperately cling to that not to collapse before memories that made him question his identity and sense of self, all over a lifetime twice as long as he'd actually lived.
Hasa was there, giving his absolute acceptance of all Be'larien was. Again, Be'larien had to admit that Hasa was the only thing keeping him from going insane. He knew he needed to finish the memories, but was deeply worried about the consequences for his sense of identity should he continue. To try and grant himself some tiny peace of mind, Be'larien decided to start trying to think of Vo'natiri as female. After all, the Thelossian language didn't have gender pronouns to begin with, they only had technical terms for 'male' and 'female'. Besides, if you ignored what was between the legs, Vo'natiri was nothing but a gorgeous woman. Be'larien, in his desperation, completely ignored the slippery slope he'd just climbed onto.
Bel's relationship with Vo'natiri, whom he'd started calling Tiri, developed at a rapid pace. Even while going over recently completed missions or discussing tactics for their next assignment, Bel and Tiri were inevitably trying to render each other into quivering, orgasmic wrecks. Be'larien was doing his best not to have a psychotic break as he absorbed the information on the war from those 'memories'.
Their 437th Heavy Assault Unit had cleared 5 planets over the course of 2 years. They'd taken a minimum of 3 casualties at every location. And now the end of the war was in sight. After losing over half of their armada the Vilmex were giving up on Federation controlled space and pulling back their ships. The problem was they weren't collecting their members from the planets they'd already been to. That meant clean up continued.
The Ona'vhi had just dropped them off on their 6th planet for clearing, and hopefully their last. Unfortunately, it seemed this time the sh*t was really going to hit the fan. Things had progressed much like the other planets for the first few days. Then they were assigned to clear a large industrial complex.
They knew something had gone wrong when the first scout drones were destroyed without being able to relay any information. They were tempted to call in a bombardment, but scans had shown there were several non-Vilmex life-forms hiding in a bunker under the building. With utmost caution, they decided to move in. They should've called in the bombardment. The civilians weren't hiding. They'd been purposely put there, both as a shield, and as bait.
Bel's unit entered the complex, a jungle of pipes, robotics, conveyors, and silos. Their immediate goal was to find and evacuate the civilians. They'd moved through nearly 10% of the complex and were entering an open warehouse area when it happened. Something huge slammed into the ground in front of the unit, denting the metal lined floor and nearly knocking everyone off their feet. When the thing came into view, Bel's hearts almost stopped.
It was a Vilmex, but unlike any their unit had encountered before. It was nearly 50% bigger, had black streaks running across its carapace, and it's eyes were green instead of blue. Records of this kind of Vilmex had been transmitted to all combat units early in the war. The basic information was: Elite Vilmex. Rank: Upper 70s. Extremely Dangerous. Order immediate bombardment.
The unit almost instantly started firing, and Vo'natiri immediately sent out a signal that if the unit was wiped the Ona'vhi was to immediately bombard their location. The Vilmex was ridiculously fast though, evading most of the shots, and what few hit did minimal damage to its large body. Bel was stunned as she continued to fire. They were using Andalar Class Heavy Pulsar Rifles, weapons that could basically vaporize any other race he had met. And yet the shots that hit were barely able to crack this Vilmex's carapace. The difference between a rank in the 60s and 70s was huge.
Thelossian armor for the Heavy Assault Units forcibly raised a soldier's physical attributes rank into the upper 60s, but it wasn't enough now. A single swipe of the Vilmex's bone scythe blasted away 5 members of their unit, and they only had 30 members. Bel hoped they had died instantly, as she couldn't imaging the pain they'd suffer if anything in that tangled mass of limbs and blood was still alive.
The Vilmex shot forward like a rocket, ripping apart 6 more soldiers in its path. All this time, Bel continued to fire his rifle. While cracks continued to form on its carapace, they just weren't doing nearly enough damage. Within a few seconds of the battle beginning, only Bel, Tiri, and 3 other members were still alive.
With one more swing of its arm, those 3 additional members were slaughtered and its bone scythe homed in on Bel. In this moment of life or death, Bel placed his rifle in the path of the scythe. At the moment it broke, it exploded, hurtling Bel away from the Vilmex. She flew through the air before crashing into the metal ground and tumbling until she hit a wall. His arms and legs were mangled and charred, almost all his ribs were broken, and he was pretty sure his spine had snapped. But Bel was alive.
The Vilmex had paused, looking down at its now broken and charred bone scythe. It focused its eyes on Bel, and then its mandibles opened as it released an ear grating chittering sound. It was laughing. Whether at how pathetic it felt Bel was in his attempt to save himself, or the fact such a pathetic creature had managed to damage it, or just to ridicule them, they couldn't know. But Tiri didn't miss the chance to take advantage of its hubris.
She pulled a small pistol-type weapon from a holster at her waist. Bel had asked her about it before, but she'd told him his clearance wasn't high enough to know. She aimed and fired in less than a fraction of a second. A streak that seemed to eat the light flashed directly into the Vilmex's open mouth, causing it to start hacking. But Tiri wasn't watching.
The moment she fired she dropped the gun and charged at Bel. Picking him up while dashing by caused Bel enormous pain, but Tiri didn't stop or slow down. Bel had a good view from her carried position of the Vilmex. It wasn't chasing them, instead it was violently ripping at its own mouth and throat. Then it started to collapse.
That's the only way Bel could describe it. The Vilmex simply started to collapse into a point in its throat. And then the space around the Vilmex showed signs of distortion. They turned a corner and he couldn't see the Vilmex anymore, but then there was a bright flash of light, a lot of pain, and then darkness.
When Bel came to he was floating in a medical pod. The medical nanites in the solution were rapidly repairing and replacing her damaged bones and tissues. He could only see out of one eye at the moment, but he could see that in the pod across from him was Tiri. Her damage wasn't nearly as bad as Bel's, but she still looked like hell. Tiri seemed to notice Bel's attention, and smiled at him. Bel did his best to return the smile.
Tiri was released within half a day. It took 3 whole days to repair Bel's body. They'd had to completely re-grow his right arm from the elbow, as well as his left eye. When she met back up with Tiri, they spent the next two days in bed, making each other deliriously happy, and trying to forget the terror. And on the 3rd day the 437th Heavy Assault Unit was reformed, using soldiers from other damaged units.
The clearing of the planet continued. Luckily, there were no more elite Vilmex. Tiri had told Bel about the weapon she'd used to kill it during their two days of decadence. It was an experimental single shot weapon called a Pulse Singularity Pistol. One had been issued to the commander of each ground assault unit with strict orders to use it only as a last resort. It was capable of killing a being with a physical rank in the upper 80s, but it would kill everything around the target too. If Tiri hadn't picked up Bel and run right after firing, they'd be dead. As it was, they'd only barely survived by turning that corner at the end. The industrial complex had been made from very tough materials.
At long last the planet was cleared of Vilmex. It was on their last day before leaving that Bel stood next to Tiri on hill covered in orange grass, watching a red sun sink in a purple hued sky. They held each other close, gazed into each other's eyes, and swore their love for one another.
"I, Be'larien Sil'nathiel, give myself to Vo'natiri Kal'vardiem. My hearts, my body, my soul are yours, until the end of time. I love you, Tiri, and I swear my life to yours."
Bel had tears leaking from her eyes but a smile on her lips, as did Tiri, who swore her own oath. "I, Vo'natiri Kal'vardiem, give myself to Be'larien Sil'nathiel. My hearts, my body, my soul are yours, until the end of time. I love, Bel, and I swear my life to yours. May we never be parted."
They kissed passionately, and proceeded to consecrate their Life-Bond on that very hill. Multiple times. The unit poked fun at them when they returned to the shuttle, but even then Bel couldn't wipe the stupid smile off his face. Neither could Tiri.
But tragedy was waiting for Bel once again. The war was almost over, and the Ona'vhi was given its last mission. There was a planet the Vilmex were using as a resource hub that had no indigenous civilization, or much in the way of indigenous life at all. The Ona'vhi was to clear it out. It was ultimately a cake run, they'd simply use the Ona'vhi's guns to bombard Vilmex constructions and life-signs from orbit.
Unfortunately, their information was outdated. The Vilmex left in the Federation had used this planet as a fallback position. By the time the Ona'vhi's sensors detected the problem, it was too late. They were surrounded. 487 Vilmex ships against a single Selbevia Class warship. It was an unfortunately even fight.
There was nothing Bel could do in this fight, it was up to the Ona'vhi's gunners and the pilots of their carried assault ships. He and Tiri held each other as the ship continued to shake and rock from explosions. Then there was one massive explosion that knocked them off their feet, and the evacuation alarms started to sound.
Bel and Tiri quickly ran for the escape pods. When they arrived though, they discovered that half the bay had been destroyed. There weren't nearly enough escape pods for the entire crew.
The command had already come down that the youngest would evacuate first. As one of the few members of the Ona'vhi under 100 years old, Bel was immediately assigned a pod. Tiri, on the other hand, was 389 years old, one of the oldest crew members. She wouldn't be getting a pod.
Bel was desperately clinging to Tiri, refusing to board her escape pod. "I won't leave you, Tiri! I won't escape by myself! Not again!"
Bel's face was streaked with tears and his nose was snotty, but Tiri leaned in and kissed him with every ounce of love she possessed. Tears were streaming down her own face as she placed her lips next to Bel's ear. "I love you, Bel. Live a good life." And then Bel felt a pinch in the back of her neck.
Tiri lifted Bel up into her arms as she dropped the micro-injector gun. Bel had lost all motor control, he could barely speak. As Tiri strapped her into the escape pod, Bel's tears fell without end. Mustering what control she could, Bel pleaded. "P-please, Ti-iri, do-on't..."
With tears dripping from her chin, Tiri leaned in and kissed Bel desperately, one last time. "I love you so much, Bel. Too much to let you die." Then she stepped back, closed the hatch, and activated the escape pod. Bel's last view of Tiri was her tear-filled blue eyes, and a sad smile on her lips. Bel was screaming in her head, Please, not again!
But the escape pod launched, out into the blackness of space. Thelossian escape pods were heavily cloaked and armored, but that didn't stop the Vilmex from trying to destroy them. Bel's pod was rocked by multiple explosions, and then a lucky shot damaged the propulsion system. The pod flew off course, away from the primary shipping lanes, away from the battle, and out into the dark void.
Bel regained motor control after about 30 minutes, not that it meant much. She sank into her memories of Tiri, freezing constantly on that last image. He thought about his parents, and his father's face that looked so like Tiri's. Will everyone I love force me to go on without them?
The escape pod was capable of supporting a conscious passenger for 3 days. After that it would force the occupant into suspended animation where it could continue to support them for up to a decade. On the second day the damaged propulsion unit fried itself, and took a chunk of the life support system with it. The suspended animation system was incapable of activating now, which meant Bel had at most two more days before she ran out of air.
But Bel didn't care. He remained in his fugue state, growing weaker by not availing himself of the provided nutrient capsules, and seeming to hope for death. Will I see my parents? Will I see Tiri? That's all she thought of.
Then, on the fourth day, as Bel was slipping between consciousness and unconsciousness in the waning air supply, the escape pod came to a stop. It might be more accurate to say it bumped into something. Feeling the jolt, Bel looked out of the pod's only view port, where he met two giant, glowing blue eyes. They seemed to peer into the depths of her very soul. Then a gentle thought flowed into his mind. Would you live for me, little one?
Be'larien snapped back to the present. He'd been far more immersed in these recent memories than the earlier ones. But how the Life Story arranged her meeting with Hasa jerked her back to the present. Turning his head to look at Hasa's face, he found Hasa's eyes already focused on him. Before she could even ask the question, Hasa sent a thought impression, this one containing far more than 'words'.
He saw an image of Hasa walking through the dark vastness of space, travelling at speeds that made the universe blur. Then he suddenly stopped as a being appeared before him. It seemed to be made of glowing, white mists. It held out a tendril on which was a small ball of pulsing silver mist. Be'larien's soul.
The entity asked Hasa if he was willing to bond with this soul. There was the impression that Hasa was not the first asked, not by a long shot. As ancient as Hasa was, he'd never considered a soul bond. Only out of respect for this entity did Hasa even entertain the idea. Sending out of tendril of his mind, Hasa looked into the nature of this soul.
Hasa's thought impression didn't include what he'd found in Be'larien's soul, but after a short pause he agreed to the entity's request. The entity drew a thin silver thread from Be'larien's soul and seemed to plunge it into Hasa's brain. When the tendril retracted it pulled with it a pulsing black and silver thread that sunk into Be'larien's soul. Then Be'larien's soul and Hasa were instantly transported to their current location, where Be'larien's current body almost instantly took form.
Be'larien continued to stare into Hasa's eyes after the image faded. Standing up, for the first time in this form, Be'larien took a few steps forward to stand immediately before Hasa's muzzle, not even noticing the heels on his sandals. With tears streaming down her face, she hugged Hasa right over his nose. Tears were falling from Be'larien's eyes as he buried his face in the fur of Hasa's head. She didn't know how many beings her soul had been presented to, how many had said no, but Hasa looked into her soul and said yes. Hasa said yes.
Letting out a very light snort, Hasa sent his thoughts that Be'larien was being silly. Be'larien didn't care, and didn't let go of the hug, and Hasa didn't stop him. After a few minutes Be'larien finally let go, and stepping back she wiped at her eyes to get rid of the tears. Finally using his real voice, Be'larien said, "Thank you Hasa. Thank you for sharing your soul with mine." This time Be'larien didn't even notice the natural purr of her voice.
Hasa snorted, his go to move really, and sent a thought that contained his entire opinion. You are my beloved one. Be'larien's smile was almost splitting his face, and his hearts felt full to bursting. Hasa closed his eyes, turned his head, and went back to a resting position. He sent a final thought. Now finish learning who you were in this world, so you can start being who you are.
Following Hasa's advice, Be'larien went back to Hasa's side, sat down, and leaned back into his fur once again. It was time to finish this. When he went back into the memories, he wouldn't come out until he'd reached the present.
Bel's initial meeting with Hasa'renalim was defining. She felt Hasa in her soul, his all encompassing knowledge and acceptance of everything she was, and when he asked if she would live for him, from her hearts came the answer. Yes.
Suddenly he felt Hasa even more intimately, occupying a spot in his heart he hadn't known was empty. New tears poured down Bel's face as she realized she wouldn't ever be alone again, and she'd never be left behind. The door of the escape pod vanished as if it had never been, and yet the air in the pod didn't escape, nor did the cold void of space rush in. A gentle force disintegrated the straps holding Bel in the pod, and began to gently pull him toward Hasa's gargantuan form.
Hasa was massive, easily the size of a medium size Thelossian ship. He could play kickball with asteroids. Be'larien almost came back to the present, but decided her curiosity could wait.
Bel was floated up to the level of Hasa's head, and gently descended into the fur between his antlers. It was like being wrapped in a warm, fluffy blanket that smelled of grass after a spring storm. Bel could almost feel the hurts of his hearts healing. A thought came from Hasa. Shall we go home?
Home? What home? Bel's home had been destroyed, twice. First her parents, and then Tiri. What home could she have?
Bel sent her own thought. No Hasa. Not yet. First we go to war. Hasa paused for a moment, and then his own thought returned. As you need. And Hasa began to walk. And the universe began to move.
While a Star-Treading Deer is extremely powerful, one of the Anat'runhaki, that is not their defining trait. They are FAST. Aside from those beings that can warp to anywhere they wish, only a handful of individual entities are faster than a Star-Treading Deer. Within but a few minutes they arrived at the retreating Vilmex armada.
There were nearly a million Vilmex ships, all concentrating fire on 3 Elunis Class flagships. While the Vilmex weapons were doing minimal damage, the Thelossian ships were rendered incapable of attacking, simply because their attacks got swallowed by the ones from the Vilmex. And then Bel and Hasa appeared among the Vilmex ships.
To Hasa, the Vilmex ships may as well have been paper. He didn't so much attack as begin walking through them. Everywhere he passed the Vilmex ships shattered and exploded. The Vilmex began diverting their weapons to attack Hasa, but he was too fast. Not that their weapons would have been effective in the first place.
With the pressure reduced the Thelossian's own weapon fire started getting through. The Vilmex ships began to vanish at incredible pace. Bel would later learn that once the Vilmex ships reached only a few thousand they desperately tried to surrender. But Bel didn't know, and she probably would have kept attacking anyway. The Vilmex were like a plague, and he needed to vent his anger and sorrow.
Finally the last Vilmex ship was destroyed. Sitting on Hasa's head, Bel watched the wreckage. She felt... drained. She just wanted to rest. Hasa sent a thought. Home?
Bel sighed. Vengeance was served, but he gained nothing. Nothing but Hasa. And that was everything. Yes, Hasa. Now we go home.
Hasa began to slowly approach the Thelossian flagships. They wisely didn't target him. Aside from the fact he'd helped them destroy the Vilmex, and their sensors had already seen Bel sitting on his head, the Thelossians just weren't plain stupid enough to aim their weapons at a Star-Treading Deer.
As Hasa approached the central flagship his body rapidly shrunk until he was only the size of a Thelossian assault ship. Bel had been shifted from sitting on his head to sitting between his shoulders. They went in through the docking bay that had been opened for them. There was a small welcoming party for them, including a Lo'nacri, a commanding Thelossian admiral.
Bel was gently lowered to the ground via Hasa's power as Hasa shrunk to the size of a normal deer. The Lo'nacri, a woman with long golden hair and crimson eyes, immediately approached. "Be'larien Sil'nathiel, it is good to see a survivor of the Ona'vhi." Bel wasn't surprised they knew who she was. After all, she was still wearing her combat gear.
"I am Lo'nacri Si'tani Min'acrias, commander of the Thelossian fleet. I thank you and your friend for your timely aid. Would you introduce us?"
Bel knew what the Lo'nacri was after, since Bel would never have qualified to even speak with her on his own. Anyone at the rank of Lo'nacri was ultimately a politician. And while Thelossian politicians were the best you could hope for, they were still politicians. And when you ride in on a Star-Treading Deer, your importance quickly skyrockets.
Still, Bel wasn't foolish or crass enough to point this out. "This is Hasa'renalim, my bonded. And if it's not too much trouble, I'd appreciate a bed. I'm exhausted."
Bel could tell the Lo'nacri wasn't too happy about the redirect, but she wasn't about to call Bel on it. Not when Hasa was standing right behind her. "Of course." She turned to a nearby officer. "Si'vizhil, escort the Ne'zheal and her bonded to appropriate quarters."
The Si'vizhil saluted, right hand over left breast. "At once, commander."
Turning back to Bel, the Lo'nacri said, "Rest well Ne'zheal, we will have much to discuss later." Bel nodded and she turned to Hasa. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Hasa'renalim." She offered a respectful salute and slight bow to Hasa.
With that the Lo'nacri took her leave. The Si'vizhil approached them and said, "Please, follow me."
They were led to sizable quarters, far too big for a Ne'zheal to qualify for, but then Bel understood these quarters were mostly for Hasa. Without even glancing at the bed, she walked over to where Hasa had lain down, where she promptly sat down, leaned back against him, and fell asleep. He'd need the rest. Her life would likely be a circus for the near future.
And right she was. After the interviews about what happened on the Ona'vhi and how she met Hasa, she promptly became a celebrity. Everyone wanted to be her friend, and through her, Hasa's friend. It was enough to drive him mad.
The Thelossian flagship returned not to Thelos, but to Dalvarmik, the Capital Planet of the Federation. A great deal of pomp was made, and Bel was publicly awarded a medal for services to the Federation. She was also given a sizable cash reward. Bel thought it was a big joke. Her 'services' were vengeance, and the action itself was carried out mostly by Hasa. But she didn't turn it down, because the event boosted the morale of the entire Federation and the Thelossians. But she'd never wear the medal again after that day.
When Bel finally got back to Thelos, and after being fawned over excessively, he was promoted to Si'vizhil 2nd Class and assigned to a new Selbevia Class ship in the Assault Unit. She was the youngest Si'vizhil in 20,000 years, and the youngest 2nd Class in recorded history. But it all felt hollow.
She rode on Hasa from Thelos to her new berth, the San'kavil. It was in orbit around the planet she'd grown up on, Alabrax. The trip was all too short. She could ride through space on Hasa forever.
Bel settled formalities with her new commander quickly and went to rest in her quarters before her rotation began. Hasa had special quarters built for him near the docking bay, where he was already relaxing. Bel thought he might pick up some 'company' while on his way to his own. But she didn't get far before she stopped dead in her tracks.
Before Bel was a rather delicate looking Thelossian, she was barely 3 fels tall. But she had glorious emerald hair that hung to her mid-back and radiant golden eyes. There was a nervous expectant smile on her lips. Bel's hearts stopped. "Tas?"
The smile on Tas' face blossomed into a radiance that left Bel struck dumb. She giggled and said, "So you do remember me, Bel. I was worried I'd been forgotten."
Shaking off her stunned state, Bel quickly closed on Tas and pulled her into a desperate hug. Tears were forming in her eyes. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you."
Bel felt wetness on his shoulder as Tas whispered, "I know just how happy you are. Because that's how happy I am to see you too."
They proceeded on to Bel's quarters, where they talked, Bel's desire for 'company' forgotten. It turned out Tas had shown a flare for engineering during her time at the academy, and was assigned to a Lothan Class ship's engineering crew after graduation. She increased her skills over the years and was assigned to the San'kavil during the war with the Vilmex. Now the war was over and here they were.
Much like her time with Tiri, Bel's relationship with Tas grew slowly, at least for Thelossians. However in this case Bel admitted to herself right away that she desperately wanted Tas. But she had an irrational fear that if they got together something would happen to tear them apart. Hasa had even told him to stop being silly.
Finally, after 4 months, and while they were relaxing in Bel's quarters watching holo-vids, it was Tas who moved first. She stood up and moved directly in front of Bel, then she sat on her lap, pressed their breasts together, and proceeded to kiss Bel's brains out. Bel was shocked at first, but quickly one hand went to the nape of Tas' neck and the other to her ass. Bel ground her rapidly hardening member into Tas' rocking hips.
Tas pulled back from the kiss, flushed and a little breathless. My god she's beautiful, was the only thought in Bel's head. Tas placed both her hands on Bel's cheeks and stared into her eyes. "I love you Bel. I've loved you since we were children. And I'm not letting your fears rob us of one more minute together. You got that?" Bel could only nod before Tas leaned in to kiss her senseless again.
They weren't wearing armor since they weren't on duty, so what little clothes they had rapidly vanished. While Thelossians are perfectly capable of thinking of other things during sex, they don't have to. Bel and Tas proceeded to focus on each other as they explored all of life's joys. At least until they were on duty again.
And so life went. Tas and Bel became each other's primary partner, and while they both had other partners, sometimes together, they could never get enough of each other. After 6 years, when Bel was 90 years old, they swore their Life-Bond.
They performed their oaths during leave on Alabrax. They were in a little wooded area of a park they played in as children. Both of them were deliriously happy, but Bel couldn't help but worry.
Ultimately, Bel's worries came to naught. The next 10 years passed by with nothing more than the occasional standard fight with pirates. Bel and Tas had served their mandatory 50 years. They both agreed to leave active service together, at least for a while. Bel used the reward she'd received from the Vilmex War to buy a very nice house on Alabrax, with a backyard the size of a park for Hasa to roam in. They'd moved in two weeks ago, and Bel had just come out to the yard to spend some time with Hasa.
Be'larien opened her eyes back in the present.