They showered in quick and efficient fashion, minus a bit of lip biting on Onoelle's part as she allowed Mentuc to soap her up and rinse her off. She had been tempted to let the situation escalate, but given Jane's proximity… No. Best to wait.

After drying off they put on a fresh set of clothes and as she was still drying off her hair, Mentuc blinked out of the house to set up the tent. She never even saw him go into the cellar to get the camping equipment, meaning he was moving at his pace again. She knew she ought to tell him off for that, but given how much Jane's proximity was putting him on edge she decided to let it slide.

Once she was finally done with her hair she walked out of the bathroom, hugged Jane tightly and wished her goodnight, and all but ran after Mentuc. Night always came surprisingly quickly, owing to the sun sinking behind the mountains and sheltering the farm in total darkness. Luckily enough there was a glint of moonlight. Her husband might be able to navigate anything that wasn't total darkness as if it was day, but she would just get hopelessly lost. Had done so, on multiple occasions when she had still been trying to chase down Mentuc, before they had become an item.

Now there was just enough light to keep her from tripping over her own feet as she ran towards the tent. She didn't see her husband, but that said nothing. He could make himself invisible in a field of grass even if he was wearing a bright yellow vest. This was proven true when he somehow intercepted her by wrapping his arms around her from behind. She said nothing and just placed her hands on his arms, squeezing softly. Then he let her go and she dived into the tent. It wasn't too warm out and her nightwear offered no protection against the cold wind. Mentuc was alongside her every step of the way. His way of compensating for having to leave her alone with Jane earlier. She slid into the large sleeping bag, which was ice cold and shivered while her husband busied himself with closing the tent. Then he joined her in the sleeping bag and all of a sudden it didn't seem so large anymore. It did, however, become a lot warmer. Mentuc's nightwear was more decorative than functional, honestly more a thing to keep him from being naked in public than to protect him from the elements. The man simply didn't need it. He radiated heat.

They lay against one another in silence. Onoelle enjoyed his presence, his large arms around her, pressing her softly against his larger body. She wiggled slightly, pressing herself even tighter, drawing more of his heat into herself. She let out a contented sigh. Advanced psychology was interesting and the human mind was a very finicky, demanding thing, but sometimes? Just a good, warm hug from a person you completely trusted was all you needed.

'She saw,' his voice drifted into her ear, barely more than a whisper.

Onoelle knew what he was on about instantly, even with the comfortable situation slowly lulling her mind to sleep. She tilted her head slightly and was pleasantly surprised when she came cheek to cheek with him in a passionate gesture. 'Yes,' she confirmed.

'Will she tell?'

She chuckled softly. The question seemed so innocent, so simple. He didn't tense up, he still hugged her softly, still ran his chin through her hair. Nothing indicated the severity of the thoughts that accompanied that simple sentence. Perhaps because to him it was that straightforward. 'No. She won't.'

He made a soft, approving noise and pulled her a bit more against him, something she delighted in.

'May I try to read your mind?' she asked, wondering if she could let her thoughts follow his.

'Of course.'

'If I had said no, you would have tried to keep her here. Permanently.'

She felt him nod.

'If she had refused that… You would have killed her.'

'No,' came the surprising answer.

'No?'

'I would have put her in stasis. You would not approve of me killing her.'

'I would not approve of you putting her in stasis either,' she laughed. 'I thought that technology was theoretical?'

She felt a chuckle reverberate through his chest. She knew why. He had been wielding technology that the galaxy had declared theoretically sound but physically impossible for his whole life.

'You would disapprove me killing her a lot more. Letting her go would not be an option.'

'True.' She let out another soft laugh as she ceded the point.

She realised it was a weird thing to casually talk about your husband potentially murdering your best friend. Then again, nothing about Mentuc was normal. There were many things about his past that she didn't yet know, as he'd been alive for considerably longer than she had been. Still, with each passing day and every story he told she came to know him better, understand him more. Then there was Nightmare…

She shook her head, clearing that thought out of her head. Best not to dwell there. Nothing pleasant lay there. Instead...

'Mentuc?' she whispered softly, rubbing herself against him.

'Hm?'

'I'm wearing clothes,' she hinted, grabbing his arms and pressing them harder against her body.

'So you are,' he replied. She could hear him smiling, the smug bastard! He may be struggling with anything that wasn't said directly in nearly any subject but she had taught him very well in this regard.

She whined needily , moving his hands to her breasts and as his fingers cupped them, she pressed herself harder into them.

'So fix it,' she commanded.

That was all she needed to say.

When they had first begun laying together he had been hesitant, overly careful, fearful even. She was fragile and he was everything but. She was somewhat experienced and he was not. Not in the way most adults were either. The guy hadn't even watched porn before! For a frightening few moments she had worried that he had lacked a sex drive all together, but after their first night together those fears had been allayed. It had been pleasant, if somewhat awkward. Afterwards, as she had lain in his arms, they had talked. He had asked questions. Too many questions. He had pretty much killed the atmosphere by reducing the entire romantic experience by asking her —nearly literally— to make a manual for it. How was it supposed to go, what were the main goals, when was it okay to do it and a dozen more things she was loathe to remember.

At the end of it she was half convinced she would never be able to have sex again. Then he had pulled her towards him, as he had done now, and kissed her neck. He had proven to be a fast learner.

That first night was many months ago and over that time he had gone from adequate to decent, moved on to good, skipped past being excellent and went straight into godly as he had taken to exploring her body with enthusiasm. There were still some hick-ups, as he was always fully focused on drawing pleasure from her rather than receiving it, which frayed her pride more than a bit, but compared to what a supersoldier with senses so enhanced they could hear the hairs on your neck stand up could do to you her complaints were negligible. He played her body like an instrument and stars! He was good at it. And, she had to admit, incredibly relentless. His stamina by far exceeded hers and he often wasn't satisfied until she was gasping for breath and if she encouraged him a bit too much he didn't stop before she was so exhausted she drifted between the waking and the dreaming world, both filled with pleasure.

She was panting heavily as she lay underneath him, utterly soaked in sweat. He was leaning on his elbows, hovering over her and gently caressing her body with his, his lips teasing her skin with featherlight kisses. She didn't know how many hours of sleep they had wasted just now. It was hard to keep track of time when the feelings he drew from her body demanded her full attention.

His teeth teased her earlobe and she hissed softly as he tugged at it. She was exhausted, covered in sweat and her muscles didn't respond perfectly anymore. She let out a giggle as she remembered how many calories you burned per session on average. A rogue thought.

He looked at her, eyes wide and curious and she pulled him down on her again. He was a very tactile person and physical contact, in all its forms, was incredibly important to him, given that he only could have it with people he trusted. Physical contact with people he didn't trust was either limited to handshakes or extended to… things best not thought of when laying naked with him.

'You know,' she started, before she was forced to catch her breath again. 'If I had known I'd end up this sweaty I'd have saved the shower for after.'

'We can go shower now if you want,' he suggested, a playful tone to his voice. No smugness for once. He never was smug in the bedroom.

'No. Don't want to expose Jane to this. She'd be horrified.' A loud snort. 'Or want to join in.' She added a smile to make sure he understood it was a joke.

'If that is the case you'll just have to suffer here until morning.'

'I know.'

'You look beautiful.'

Despite what they just did and her being as naked as the day she was born with him equally well dressed on top of her, she blushed. A deep, red blush. She looked into his eyes and saw his lenses run over her naked body. She could barely make out the glint in them, a hint of her own reflection hidden in there, but he knew he saw everything. The raising and sinking of her breasts, the sweat pearling from her skin, slowly running towards the ground as gravity took hold of it, painting glittering lines on her skin. The goose bumps that covered her from head to toe as he ran his fingers tenderly along her back, touching all the right places. How her lips quivered as she looked at him in turn, a loving hunger welling up inside her heart once again. How emotion clouded her eyes, how her long hair was sprawled underneath her, a total mess.

The emotion in his eyes was equally visible. There was a bit of lust there that could easily be called minor when compared to the burning love that was there. A desire for passion, for having her close, to feel her against him. She saw his breath quicken and allowed her hands to roam his body, fingers sliding over his back, past his shoulders, down across his chest, to rest lightly on his waist for a brief moment. Her hunger for him grew. She was tired, exhausted even, but he was lighting a fire within her. He knew he could hear her heartbeat, the rasping of her breath, smell her arousal, her want, her need. It grew between them in silence, the fire going from smouldering to being set wildly ablaze in a handful of breaths. He ran his fingers across her back and neck, softly but insisting and she moaned at his touch. She struggled to keep her eyes open as he forced delight on her with gestures that set her very soul aflame. She knew that she was going to regret it. She saw the hunger in his eyes, his want, knew that it would be all the greater for having been separated from her, even if it had only been a short time. If she embraced him now he would exhaust her, tire her out beyond compare. It would be delightful at first, but tomorrow she would pay the price. Realisation sprang up in the back of her mind that he would be alone for a while again, tomorrow, as he would be hauling the equipment they'd get from the village back to the farm and that he knew.

Yes. He was a very tactile person. What he failed to communicate with words, he allowed his body to say. She touched his cheek, her hand shaking visibly as she saw the pure emotions well up in his eyes. The only emotion he had fully mastered.

Her breath was coming in quick pants now, her entire body hurting with pure want. She saw his chest rise up and down at a slow pace as he took deep breaths, the rest of him utterly motionless, a predator ready to strike. She felt the heat radiate from him and it was intoxicating.

The tension broke as she threw her arms around him, drawing him in for a deep kiss. He let his body speak and she eagerly listened as he told her just how much he loved her, everything else slowly fading as this simple message consumed every ounce of her very being.

'Guys!' shouted the freshly promoted Captain Herden, demanding the full attention of a mess hall turned bar that was filled to the brim with officers of the Special Boarder battalions, many of them sporting a shiny new badge of rank as well as a broad an varied collection of injuries. The promotion had been a hollow, mandatory thing, not done purely out of years of service or achievement, but mostly because of the holes left in the upper echelons.

Sheepdog gave Testy a hard push, forcing the superhuman to take a single step forward. The man caught on to the meaning and took a few more. If he felt ill at ease standing in nothing but too small briefs in front of dozens of officers, many of them who outranked him, he did not show it. Despite a solid manhunt Herden had failed to find something more appropriate for the man to wear.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

'I'd like to introduce you to X something something, colloquially known as Testy. Fresh out of the tube and freshly promoted! Also the only one of the super-bastards who actually talks to us! And the bastard-in-chief who directly saved not only my own hide, but also those of half of my men, none of whom would still be here today.'

A series of cheers erupted. Some men were more reserved than others, but none of those present denied him his applause nor his welcome. Without the supersoldiers none of them would have been here to celebrate, the previous two failed attempts to hijack Kra'lagh ships still fresh in everyone's memory.

Sheepdog herded Testy through the crowd as many turned to pat him on the back and more than a few catcalls where whistled his way, from male and female officers alike. Glasses were raised and his name was shouted and cheered at as the captain brought him to the rest of the officers of his company.

'Hey guys! Who got the last round?' he asked, ushering the supersoldier in.

'Heyo Sheep. Admiral did. Said he'll take it as a personal slight if catches any of us still sober by the end of the day,' a female captain said, causing he small group to raise a small toast to the Admiral. She offered Testy a hand.

'Name's Clarissa. Callsign Chi-chi. Don't ask.' She smiled warmly at him. Her platoon had taken heavy losses when they had been assailed from two sides by the bugs, only surviving because a Genesis platoon had violently crashed the party, breaking through on one end, annihilating every enemy there, then charging through the remnants of her platoon to do the same to the enemy on the other side.

'We're currently drinking to remember the death', a major said. 'Once we're done with that, we'll move on to drinking to celebrate, but for now...' The man raised his glass, slowly and solemnly, his eyes distant and watery. 'We remember.'

Another captain leaned towards Sheepdog.

'He's the sole survivor of White Platoon.'

Sheepdog's eyes widened and he nodded. White Platoon was a reinforced platoon that contained the commando element of their company. It was led by a colonel. The man who was now a major had been a fairly young lieutenant. The newly christened major was the old colonel's son.

'So, Sheepdog,' Chi-chi said. 'Who's Testy here? And what is he doing without a glass! That's heresy!'

The supersoldier was quickly provided with a glass and earned a round of cheers when he downed it in a single gulp. Sheepdog gave Testy a confused look. Supersoldiers who drank?

'Right, I'll lay down the groundwork real quickly. Bloke's a supersoldier, one of them genetic supermen. Ran into him and the Doc earlier. Word of warning, Frankenstein is a general now. Anyway, Testy is weird. Like proper weird. He's weird. But he's a good lad. Kept me and my men alive, like I said. That, or he has the worst luck and kept falling into shots that would've melted one of my men for a bit too long. Speaking of, Testy, how the fuck are you even walking right now? Last I saw you were kind of missing a good chunk out of your side and your stomach had pretty much been cut in half.'

'Fresh tissue was applied to the wound and flash-burned together. The cut had already been mostly healed thanks to your aidman.'

As the rest of the officers threw questioning looks at the pair of them, the two lieutenants who hadn't been promoted put their precognitive abilities to good use and went to the bar to load up on drinks again, before the story would kick off. Sheepdog waited patiently for them to return and then regaled the group with the full story, which was only slightly ruined by Testy ruining any bit of embellishment that he tried to insert.

By the time the story ended Chi-chi had rushed Testy in an attempt to pull up his too tight shirt, only to end up tearing it. Appreciative hoots were thrown her way from the other officers that were close to their group, but the people in question remained remarkably silence. Sheepdog had clearly told him just how badly the man in front of him had been hurt, but the only signs of having part of his body molten into goop and of being disemboweled were a few thin, angry red lines criss-crossing his pale skin. The entire operation had happened less than a week ago and the ships had been brought straight to the black zone, meaning that he never had visited a hospital until, at most, sixteen hours ago. It drove home just how inhuman he was.

'So...' Chi-chi began, trying to regain her usual confident swagger. 'You heal from pretty much everything that doesn't kill you outright?'

'Yes,' Testy responded, creating some distance between the female captain, whom he now classified as slightly unstable, and himself.

'Great!' she shouted. 'Finally a guy I can take to bed without having to worry about him breaking!'

Morale was restored as insults and boasts were traded and more alcohol was consumed.

A good many drinks later Sheepdog leaned heavily against Testy.

'So, Testy. My main. My buddy. Friend. Pal.'

'Don't forget bro!' another captain laughed.

'Bro, right. What was the reason you decided to tag along with us? Not that I mind, not at all, I'm glad to have you, but this isn't you, is it? You don't do fun. You don't do hanging out, relaxing, chilling, winding off. I've seen the rest of your unit, they're all doing chores, filing reports, cleaning their weapons. No remembering the death, no celebrating you're alive. So why are you here? What's your purpose?'

Testy seemed to grow taller, which was no mean feat given that he already was one of the tallest men in the entire bar, and without saying a word the rest of the officers gathered around him, drinks put aside and intoxication shrugged off. They could tell something important was coming.

'It was my observation that during the last mission the cooperation between our respective units was abysmal. We were not accurately aware of your abilities and levels of skill and you were not aware of ours. This led to more loss than what could have been. Therefore I have been given the task of organising series of joint training exercises.'

His words were met with deafening silence and it spread through the entire bar like a wildfire, those who heard it whispering it to those asking what had been said. Chairs were pulled up and dozens of men and women sat down. Testy, naked from the waist up, had their full, undivided attention. Some may harbour doubt towards the genetically supermen, but nobody would deny their effectiveness nor the truth of what he had just said.

'You want us to go up... to compete against you?' Chi-chi whispered, horrified by the aspect. She had seen her own platoon get slaughtered by an enemy she just couldn't handle, only to see those fuckers get splattered in mere seconds by the supersoldiers.

'No. That would be futile. You cannot beat us.'

In nearly any unit these would have been fighting words. Even now there were plenty officers who did the math and came to the conclusion that if they jumped him they could bring him down through sheer numbers. Given that they were also special forces and damn well aware of the inhuman aspect of Testy, they also knew this would cost them dearly and would be an utter waste of resources, time and effort. So they swallowed their pride, shook off the rest of the alcohol and continued giving him their professional attention.

'We will fight in mixed units. We can think faster, give orders faster, assign targets faster. Our communication systems are better, our armour stronger, our aim more accurate and we have an eidetic memory,' he began, listing off the main set of advantages that they had.

'On any level, on any field, we are better. But we are few. You are not.'

The irony that they, the special forces who were an absolutely tiny portion of the entire military, were labelled as not few was not lost on them and light laughter spread through the ranks.

'So I offer to mix our units. Create units where we, all of us here and more of my brethren, function as squad leaders, platoon leaders and company leaders. Both the officers here and my fellow soldiers can take up commanding roles. Me and my brothers shall also take up the role of assault specialists. I would like to enlist the help of you all to set up a series of exercises and wargames where we compete against one another. Again and again, in simulated environments with training weapons, until an acceptable level of cooperation has been reached.'

It took the officers a bit to realise that the speech was over. It wasn't heroic, it wasn't a briefing, it wasn't even really inspiring. It was short, to the point and contained nothing but facts. They looked to one another, highly trained soldiers and decorated veterans, each and every one of them, then back at the inhuman Testy, the genetically engineered freak in front of them, who casually demanded ownership of their units, to take over the men they had trained and shed victory, happiness, pain and death with. The men they had bled, cried, lived, fought and died with.

There were no cheers. No applause. No insults, no yelling. They simply lined up, brought out well hidden datapads and started moving the chairs together to form a massive circle. They had a huge set of exercises to plan for.

Unbeknownst to all, General Eisel and Admiral Verloff were looking at the events from Verloff's office through the multitude of cameras hidden all throughout the station. Both were silently radiating with pride. The men and women under their command were professionals all. The most effective fighting force in the known galaxy. And now they were planning and plotting to become even better. Thousands of men and women, the best and brightest of humanity, steeled by discipline, the harshest training and united by a singular purpose.

It was enough to send a single teardrop down the rubbery skin of the old Admiral.

Onoelle woke up and felt a lot better than she had any right to. She didn't feel good in any way, fuck no, everything hurt! But it was a manageable sort of hurt, not the oh please kill me why did I do this kind of hurt. The reason for that became clear when her awareness spread beyond her own body and she felt Mentuc's hands deftly massaging all her muscles. No doubt he had been at it for the most part of the night, steadily alleviating her pain bit by bit. She let out soft gruntling noise, letting him know she was awake but not yet in any mood to move or talk. He pressed a soft kiss onto her cheek as acknowledgement.

Really, the only part that really hurt in the worst ways was the one spot that he couldn't exactly massage without worsening the problem. Or giving her cause to make it worse. Life could really be worse. She was on top of her husband, was very comfortable and was being pleasantly spoiled, his fingers reacting to every move her body made and hunting down the most painful spots with delightful accuracy and eliminating them. Which was fair given that he was the one who caused them.

That made her think back of just how she had received them and her cheeks started burning to the point it became uncomfortable. Naturally the big oaf that her husband was, noticed this and he calmed her down by drawing her into a long, tender kiss. All too soon she was out of breath and her mind was filled with stupid, stupid ideas again.

'Stop~' she complained, pulling her lips away from his with reluctance.

'Are you in much pain?' he asked, even though he knew how much she was hurting. His fingers ceased their massaging and moved onto her hips again, doing very bad things.

'Yes!' she lied honestly, squirming under his touch. 'So stop!'

He didn't listen and bit her neck and she felt her body heating up.

'I'm serious Mentuc! I'll be useless for the rest of the day!'

'Maybe I would like that,' he whispered into her ear, the words sending a shiver down her spine.

'Carry you around in my arms all day. Ruin your plans. Keep you close to me.'

It was unfair how quickly her resistance weakened. The way he gently caressed her and made soft-spoken promises was something that relit the slumbering embers within her.

Then he broke it off, leaving her panting and stuck with a feeling somewhere between relief, annoyance and want.

'You smell,' he said, his eyes smiling.

'And you're in pain.'

He was planning something, she was sure of that, but what?

'I'll be too busy to prepare breakfast with the tent needing to put tucked away and with you being in no state to do anything until you've limbered up properly.'

Mentuc? Being too busy to make breakfast? The tent didn't need that much work and she could manage if she had some time. Her mind tried and failed to get ahead of his thoughts, to figure out what he was alluding to.

'So I'll ask Jane to take her Vertigo to the village, get some breakfast for us.'

Huh.

'In the meantime I'll deal with the tent.'

Right.

'And then you can take a shower.'

Oh.

'With me,' he finished, kissing her.

Oh.