The Mission

By Rob Nagle, revised by Brantley

Chapter 2

The tired, and harried, head of Binkley's World emergency response, Per Bjork, strode into the office of the tired, and harried, Binkley's World Chancellor, Howard Jolie. It had been a very long, and very exhausting, night for both of them.

"I have the latest update on the quake, sir," said Bjork.

Chancellor Jolie leaned back in his chair to give his legs a needed stretch. He drew in a breath for what he hoped would be a relaxing sigh only to discover that he was far too tired to enjoy it as he let the air out.

"Let's have it," he said in a fatigued breath of disappointment.

"Whatever caused it, it's over."

"I'm well aware of that," the Chancellor stated. "Go on."

"No damage here," Bjork reported. "Aurean containment is intact, and planetary defenses are still on high alert. Space probes are online again after the last power failure - that grid really needs to be worked on. The Protectors Kim'Vallara sent to check on the probes have confirmed their operational status. Neither the probes, or the Protectors, have detected any unauthorized vessels in our the system, and the gateways of both wormholes are reported to be secure."

"So that rules out an Aurean counter-strike," Chancellor Jolie surmised.

"Yes sir," Bjork responded. "We were not under attack."

"Then what happened in those mountains last night?" Jolie wanted to know.

"An investigation as to the cause of the disturbance is to get under way as soon as the emergency status is downgraded, but the Institute's geologists have assured me that there are no volcanoes in the mountains - active, or dormant. They also assure me that there are no land faults that could set off quakes."

"Oh really?" Jolie grunted. "Then how do they account for those subsurface pockets of magma the Protectors found up there? If not a volcano, or a Binkley quake, then what could have caused such an extreme, and protracted, disturbance – enough to feel even here?"

"I'm sure that will all be addressed in the investigation, sir," Bjork related, "but our planet's geological stability is well documented."

"Which makes this phenomenon all the more baffling," the Chancellor groused. "I wish Kim'Vallara hadn't gotten the jump on us. We'd just begun to mobilize our forces when he told me that Protectors were already on site."

"There are advantages to being able to fly, along with not having to be bothered with equipment - or even clothing in most cases," Bjork noted.

"Indeed," Jolie readily acknowledged, "and they were able to make it back here quickly to help with the evacuations."

"Which, if I may say, sir, have been completely successful, even if, as it turned out, unnecessary. There are no reported casualties, or injuries."

"No one hurt," Jolie mused reflectively. "That's the main thing. So, what's our current status?"

"Building inspections will begin this morning, just in case. We should request Protector assistance - tachyon vision will greatly speed the process of assessing structural integrity, and it would hasten the reopening of buildings that are sound."

"I'm for anything that'll get things up and running again. Forward a request to Colonel Kim'Vallara." The Chancellor smiled. "Hopefully, his response time will be as good as it was with the mountains."

"I'll see to it at once, sir," Bjork replied.

"How are the emergency shelters bearing up?"

"Supplies are in good shape. The populace has been pretty shaken up, but has remained calm, and everyone would like to get back to their homes."

"Let the evacuation order stand until we know the buildings are safe. We don't want anything collapsing on anyone."

"Could we allow rehabitation once a building is cleared? It would help speed things up."

"Let's do the city a section at a time. With Protector assistance, it shouldn't take too long."

"Very good, sir. What about surface to space traffic?"

"Let's wait a couple more hours before allowing freight traffic to resume, but all personnel carriers are to remain grounded for the time being."

"There are some transport vessels still off planet - three to be exact. The passengers are probably getting pretty hungry by now."

"Authorize docking with the nearest freighters, and have the crews share their food stores. As an incentive, say that those vessels accommodating will get preferential landing when conditions are deemed safe. Is there anything else?"

"No, sir."

"All right," Chancellor Jolie assessed for his own benefit, "so, basically, everyone's still in one piece, the planet is still in one piece - barely, there is no Aurean invasion, damage assessment is soon to get underway and we still have no idea of what hit us."

"That's the sum of it, sir, yes," Bjork confirmed.

"Good job, Per," Jolie readily granted. "I want to see quick results on that investigation, and . . . go get yourself some sleep."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir."

Once alone, Chancellor Jolie slowly swiveled his chair away from his desk to face the bay window that comprised the fourth wall of his office. He gazed out over the recovering capital city of Binkley's World. The effort to rebuild the planet since the Aurean surrender had been great, but there were numerous signs that that effort was beginning to pay off. But now the unexpected had suddenly reared its head. Would it threaten to stall the reconstruction effort? Ruin it altogether? Tired though he was, Jolie's stubborn mind continued to grapple with questions that proved to be equally stubborn.

"What on Binkley's could have caused this?" he wondered.

***

"How can you fly?" Oon'ah asked her.

The two supremis femmes glided gracefully through the pure morning Binkley's World air as they returned to the city from their night among the mountains. The bright sun greeted them as they rejoiced to be alive in a new day. Rejoiced as they never had before. Rejoiced as they never knew they could.

"The same as you," Xanthra answered, though she seemed reluctant.

She flew beside her life - her love. For the first time in her life, she felt whole - complete, and she was profoundly grateful for that feeling.

"I was an experiment," she explained. "The gland was generated in me shortly after I was born."

"But surely you would have been closely monitored," Oon'ah speculated, wanting Xanthra to go on. She wondered at how the enhanced Prime had so effectively hidden herself for so long.

"Please," Xanthra's quiet voice pleaded, "let's not speak."

Oon'ah rolled herself beneath to face the woman who had set her free. Her loving arms crossed behind her neck.

"But I want to know you," she whispered to her.

Xanthra looked on her from the depth of her long sadness. Oon'ah saw that she'd transgressed, and was sincerely sorry for molesting her.

"If you wish - as you wish - when you wish," she said. "I will ask of nothing more from you."

She left her be, and resumed her place at Xanthra's side.

"No one's seen me out of uniform before," Oon'ah fretted, suddenly worried over her state of nudity. She tried to make light of her concern. "I wonder if anyone will recognize me?"

"There are lots of different uniforms," Xanthra stated. She looked to Oon'ah. "Even as you are."

Oon'ah frowned curiously at the wellspring of her life.

"I don't know what you mean," she confessed.

Xanthra smiled, and rolled beneath her love as they flew along. Her fingertips barely grazed the fluff of Oon'ah's silky down.

"I think that you look wonderful in uniform," she said.

Their look held one another.

In an instant, and yet again, each saw everything they'd ever wanted in the other's eyes. They sighed as one - glad to be alive, and claimed each other as their own - so glad to be alive! The clutch of their embrace sent them gently spinning off course. They didn't care if they crashed into the ground, or drifted into space. That they were was all!

"I do so love you!" Oon'ah softly prayed when she could speak again.

Xanthra saw, and Xanthra knew.

"Don't cry," she begged her love through tears. "I'm here," she promised her, and, yet again, she promised! "I won't leave you."

She floated off remaining close.

"As if I could live otherwise," said Oon'ah B'Té, too overwhelmed with a joy she had no right to, yet which belonged to her alone.

Neither woman had ever suspected that they could know such passion - surely not in life, but each of them had discovered that even their wildest dreams were sorely lacking to define their feelings. Nothing had prepared them for each another. They were naked with the newborn innocence of babes, but with the consciousness of grown adults. Both of them were quietly terrified that it was just a dream about to end.

Neither of them wished to think about it - but it was all they could think about.

At length, Oon'ah sought distraction. She pulled ahead, and flexed her glutes.

Herself being ripe for distraction, Xanthra noted the twitch. She saw a big, red, neon sign on her lover's ass that read, "GRAB ME!"

She smiled.

I can do that, she thought.

After a lingering romp in the air, they flew low for awhile, then ran the rest of the way on foot. No one knew that Xanthra could fly, and she preferred it stay that way for now.

They parted at the internment camp for Aureans. Xanthra took her place on the inside of the corral-like rail fence.

"When next I come," Oon'ah told her, "it will either be to take you with me, or to stand here with you."

The Aurean knew that the Velorian had put her standing at serious risk. She couldn't bear to see her hurt in any fashion.

"Don't sacrifice yourself for me," she soberly advised.

They tarried - the two super beings struggling for mere moments more. Neither of them knew how blissful agony could be. Beyond choice, beyond desire, both felt equally the tearing need to be with one another.

"You'll be alright?" Oon'ah asked her love, noting the gathering of Primes, and Betans, watching them.

"I'll be fine," Xanthra assured her. "They know me. They know better than to try anything."

For fate to grant a moment more! Anything!

"Good luck," the Aurean bid the Protector.

Xanthra knew of the debriefing Oon'ah would be facing that day. She knew that she would have some difficult questions to answer - herself being the main question.

"With you," Oon'ah announced in a trembling voice that spoke of bedrock confidence, "I don't need luck."

All then said, neither of them would allow themselves to touch. No more moments. Determined to give no outward sign of the horrible pain in her chest, Xanthra turned to leave.

"Oh, here," she said, turning back as she drew the bandana from her head.

She held it out to Oon'ah by her fingertips.

"Thanks."

Oon'ah smiled, and quietly rejoiced for yet another moment.

"Keep it," Oon'ah told her. "Who knows, you might need a diaper."

Xanthra grinned, and held the bandana under her nose in both her hands. Oon'ah thrilled at her love's subdued enjoyment.

"It has both of us all over it," Xanthra confided to her.

"Then maybe I should take it back to keep you near," Oon'ah teased.

Their deep blue eyes clung to one another as naturally, and completely, as their souls clung to life. Both of them knew that their bond was real, and that it would last.

"I won't cum without you," the one promised.

"And you have my faith," the other pledged.

Again the time had come to part. Oon'ah noted the gathering behind Xanthra.

"I want to lick you in front of all of them!" she proclaimed. "To let them see what they're missing!"

The Aurean could scarcely breathe.

"Go on," she pleaded - commanded. "Before I take you now - go on!"

It took all her courage, but Oon'ah turned away. Unsure how she could live without her life, she turned, and then she walked away. She would endure - she would survive, only to be with her life again.

She paused her stride, wanting but another glance. She turned back to see her life walking from the rails that separated them. Xanthra wore nothing but the bandana that Oon'ah had given her. The beauty of her carriage was fulfillment in itself to behold. Oon'ah watched her as she approached her fellow Aureans. She watched the majestic bearing of her perfectly shaped head. She watched the matchless poise of her feminine shoulders. She watched the gentle rustle of her raven hair against her back in the morning breeze. She watched the hypnotic roll of her hips, and buttocks - the sure stride of her long legs - the placement of her gorgeous feet. Just watching the woman walk drove her mad with desire! She saw how all Xanthra neared gave willing, if grudging, sway to her. Even the Primes took care to stay clear of her path.

Oon'ah B'Té smiled, her fertile imagination toying with ideas of how she was going to pay back her glorious whore for making her so delirious with joy. She continued to watch as Xanthra slowly vanished among the crowd.

"She is quite a bitch," she murmured to herself.

***

"Things seem to getting back to normal," Velorian chief civil staffer Jeff Hard'n noted from the status update on his computer screen. "The cities are still off-limits, but the first freighter has just docked at port. Maybe it'll have that water purifier everyone's been screaming about."

"Being able to bathe more than once every two weeks would be nice," opined fellow staffer, E'lan Reddih'le. What with toxic wastes from the war polluting the region, water had been in short supply, and only enough for drinking could be flown in from remote locations, given the strain on logistics.

"Are all our people, and resident Aureans, accounted for?" Hard'n asked her.

"All are accounted for - except two," Reddih'le answered. "Auxiliary Protector, B'Té, and Aurean Betan, Xanthra R'N, are missing."

Hard'n frowned.

"'Missing'?"

"R'N never returned to the Aurean staging area from her interrogation by Protector B'Té early yesterday afternoon," E'lan explained.

She produced a handful of clothing, which she deposited on the Hard'n's desk.

"A search of BTé's office turned up these," she went on. "The place shows evidence of violent struggle. It's pretty thoroughly trashed."

"Really?" said Hard'n, surprised. "It's unlike Oon'ah to be so physical with an internee."

"I know," said Reddih'le. "Whoever she was talking to must have given her very good cause."

Hard'n picked up the items, and took a moment to look them over.

"A Protector's uniform, and a comfort woman's thong . . . ," he noted.

"If the uniform is Protector B'Té's," Reddih'le observed, "I can't imagine her without it."

Hard'n was well aware of Protector B'Té's preference to be clothed - which was unusual for a Velorian. He looked up at Reddih'le, and smiled.

"She must feel . . . naked," he said knowingly.

"In all probability, she is, sir," Reddih'le responded dryly.

So much for humor, Hard'n thought.

"Neither of them has been seen since the disturbance of last night began," E'lan related to him.

"Really?" said Hard'n.

He leaned back in his chair as he gazed at the Aurean thong draped over his fingers.

"I wonder if there might be a connection?" he mused idly.

***

"Oon'ah!" Ba'be greeted her fellow Protector as Oon'ah floated into the general quarters of the Protector's barracks.

She'd dropped by for what had come to be known as a 'waterless shower' - which amounted to no more than a firm scrubbing with a dry towel.

"Hey, Ba'be," Oon'ah returned her greeting with an after glowing smile.

"Where were you last night?" Ba'be wondered with more than a hint of playfully accusative suspicion.

Oon'ah's smile began to quickly fade.

"You missed all the excitement," Protector Ba'be went on.

Oon'ah frowned.

"Excitement?" she asked cautiously.

"Yeah!" Ba'be expounded. "This whole place was shakin' - literally! We thought the Aureans had come back. I got bounced out of bed. It made me think of what Sa'mule, and I, once did on Erind'or - Skietra, that man could buck! Did I tell you about the time he drove me - "

"About this excitement?" Oon'ah sought to clarify without seeming unduly interested.

"Oh, everything's cool," Ba'be told her with a casual wave of her hand. "No Aureans, no casualties, everything checks out. Speaking of 'check out', have you seen the centerfold in the new issue of PlayVel? - the guy's like a horse! - Oh, but be a little careful though - some of the pages might be stuck together."

"So, uh," Oon'ah queried - still in the spirit of seeming not unduly interested, "have they . . . found the cause of this, uh - 'excitement'?"

"Nah," Ba'be said. "Nobody's got a clue, but they're still searching - hey, di'ja get a load of the package on that one?"

She nearly flew out her window to whoop, and whistle, at a passing man.

"Hey sugar! Ya want some spice!"

Oon'ah stood unnoticed in front of the desk of her department receptionist until she had to clear her throat.

"Oh, Protector B'Té!" the receptionist exclaimed upon looking up at her. "Excuse me, I didn't recognize you out of uniform. I thought you were an internee."

"Internee, or not," Oon'ah instructed the receptionist, "the Aureans have the same right to be acknowledged as do I, or anyone else for that matter, Cy'bal. Is that understood?"

"Yes ma'am," Cy'bal contritely replied.

"I presume you have a revised schedule for me for today," said Oon'ah. "I'm aware that I . . . fell a bit behind yesterday."

"Your office has been scheduled for repair as soon as the city's emergency status is lifted," Cy'bal informed the department's head, "and your morning's schedule has been reassigned to other staff." She looked up at Oon'ah. "You're to report to headquarters immediately."

Gulp! thought Oon'ah, even as she maintained her poker face to her subordinate.

Well, thought Oon'ah as she walked through the corridors of Binkley's World Velorian Headquarters, this is it, I guess.

She'd been directed to the office of Colonel James Kim'Vallara - the head man himself. She'd found her uniform missing from her office - along with Xanthra's thong, so had gone to headquarters in her altogether. A naked Supremis in public wasn't at all unusual. Hers was a clothing optional people, after all, and the majority of Velorians simply opted to go without - but she was Oon'ah B'Té, and Oon'ah B'Té had hardly ever been seen without her Protector's uniform.

She figured that both items of clothing would be waiting for her once she got to Kim'Vallara's office. She was expecting to hear a detailed accounting of hers, and Xanthra's, night in the mountains, followed by a thorough dressing down for the disruption they had caused, and then, probably, a demotion.

Break me from an Auxiliary down to what? she wondered. There isn't a lower status - yeah, but they'll probably create one, just for me . . . aren't I fuckin' lucky - as always.

A word caught in her mind.

Fucking . . .

It was, perhaps, the one activity Velorians were most noted for - especially Protectors.

Anyone . . . anytime . . . anywhere . . .

Except for her. Oon'ah B'Té was not like that. Not that she was such a good girl, but

How could I . . . after that . . .

The memory of her abuse had crippled her. She knew that, and had accepted it as much as she was able to, but then, suddenly, everything was different.

Xanthra . . . what a beautiful name!

It was the one time she'd let herself go, and become a normal Vel.

It was good - it was right!

The one time . . . and now, as she proceeded to her boss's office, she saw that she had cause to reflect on her personal situation in the glaring light to her kind's notorious amorous reputation.

I just had the greatest sex of my life, and now it's going to be considered 'conduct unbecoming of a Protector'.

The irony cut deep.

Skietra, can it possibly get any worse?

She sought distraction in the faces of those she passed by in the hallways as she marched to face the music she, and Xanthra, had made. The surprised looks she got from people she knew made her painfully self-conscious.

Ugh, I feel naked.

The fact that she was seemed lost on her.

Oh Xanthra, I miss you!

***

"Auxiliary Protector Oon'ah B'Té, reporting as requested, sir," Oon'ah stated to announce herself at the front of the Colonel's desk.

James Kim'Vallara looked up from the litter of documents on his desk. Being a man of action, Kim'Vallara had an ineptness at paperwork, which most believed was merely contrived. He seemed to require a moment to stare at the naked woman standing in front of him before actually seeing Oon'ah.

"B'Té!" he lightly exclaimed with a tone between surprise and amusement. He stood up, being the gentleman that he was. "Without your uniform, I didn't recognize you there for a moment." He indicated a chair directly behind Oon'ah. "Have a seat. We have a lot to discuss."

Offering me a seat for the purpose of an official reprimand, and then to be stripped of rank? thought Oon'ah. This does not compute.

She watched as the Colonel made a quick - and charmingly unsuccessful - attempt to organize his desk. When he looked up again, he appeared displeased to find her still standing.

"Come on, Oon'ah" Kim'Vallara prompted impatiently. "Pull up a chair, and sit down."

"Oon'ah?" Oon'ah considered further.

When both of them were seated, she decided to take first strike advantage: Make a full confession, then let the Colonel handle it from there.

"Sir, I want you to know that I am prepared to accept full responsibility for what took place yesterday."

She saw the Colonel frown at her curiously.

"How can you take responsibility for it?" he wondered. "You weren't even there."

The fuck I wasn't, mister! was Oon'ah's immediate reaction. She calmed herself to proceed.

"I acknowledge that the situation was highly unorthodox - "

"You can say that again."

" - if not wholly without precedent - "

"There is no precedent for what happened, B'Té," the Colonel stated.

Oh, gimme a break here, will you! she griped internally. I'm trying to fess up!

" - and the outcome," she calmly went on to say, "whatever that may be, must rest solely on my shoulders."

She watched Kim'Vallara's handsomely experienced eyes study her as he considered what she'd said.

"That is certainly magnanimous of you, B'Té," the Colonel replied at length with evident care, "but I'm afraid it's not going to be enough."

Well, Oon'ah thought despondently as she considered Kim'Vallara's words. She was surprised, yet not surprised. It was the end. She knew it. She had tried. She had honestly tried, but, I guess I'll be spending the rest of my 800 Earth-year life scrubbing commodes.

"In view of what has happened, your status will have to be changed," the Colonel informed her.

Oon'ah sat quietly, stoically, expectant, waiting.

This is why he wanted me to sit down, she realized.

It was going to be far worse than she'd ever thought. Much far worse.

Let's have it.

"You are no longer the head of resident Aurean reassignment," Kim'Vallara told her.

Against her will, Oon'ah's eyes closed. Her head bowed.

Accepted, she conceded with bitter resignation.

"You are now the head of resident Aurean integration."

Against her will, Oon'ah's eyes popped open wide. Her head shot up.

"What?!"

"I can appreciate that this must be a shock to you," Kim'Vallara sought to explain. "The meeting this decision came out of had just concluded when all Aurea broke loose around here. The emergency, by necessity, put informing you on a back burner. Sorry."

Oon'ah was speechless, breathless, thoughtless. For a prolonged moment, she couldn't believe that she was not going to be spending the rest of her life cleaning toilets.

"You're . . . sorry?!" she exclaimed in a muted tone of profound shock.

Kim'Vallara leaned forward, presenting his open hands to her.

"Oon'ah, please," he addressed her, trying to placate the obviously upset Protector. "Let me give you a brief run-down on what's happened."

"So . . . ," Oon'ah dared to wonder tentatively, "this . . . isn't about the . . . disturbance?"

The Colonel looked directly at her, and then he laughed.

"Oh, of course not." He relaxed back in his chair. "I know you had your hands full last night."

And my mouth, thought Oon'ah dreamily, and my pussy . . .

She could only stare at the man with doe-eyed amazement. But then he winked.

Does he....?

But then theColonel's look waxed serious.

"This has to do with an incident that happened at the corral early yesterday morning," he began. "A Betan woman mopped up the place with thirteen Primes," he went on. "Seven males, and six females, to be exact."

Oon'ah frowned curiously.

"But a Betan shouldn't even be able to slow down a Prime," she noted as a matter of course.

"This one can," said Kim'Vallara darkly, "and, evidently, she can do a lot more than 'slow them down' as you say. She almost killed one of them."

Oon'ah's curious frown deepened.

"Xanthra R'N," said the Colonel.

Oon'ah's brow unexpectedly relaxed as her eyes widened. Kim'Vallara looked at her closely.

"Are you familiar with her?" he asked.

Am I ever! was Oon'ah's thought, but, for the record, she paused for a reflective moment before responding cautiously, "The name 'Xanthra' rings my chimes - er, I mean, a bell."

"Well, she's very quickly become a very big fly in the ointment," Kim'Vallara told her thoughtfully. His eyes shifted up to Oon'ah. "Until further notice, no Aureans are to leave the planet."

Oon'ah sat up in her seat.

"Why?" she wondered.

Kim'Vallara seemed troubled as he absently toyed with a paper weight on his desk.

"This, uh - "

"Xanthra."

"Xanthra, yes, thank you," said the Colonel.

He looked up at Oon'ah.

"She's not a normal Betan."

I know . . ., thought Oon'ah, thrilling at the thought of her.

Kim'Vallara looked back at his paper weight.

"She's not even a normal Aurean."

I know . . .

"We all know -

Know what?

- that, despite their proclamations in support of natural breeding, the Aureans are conducting experiments with genes," Kim'Vallara related. "The T'set'Lars were the result of one of those experiments. Then there was that business of the Kella'Primes. We have reason to believe that this - "

"Xanthra."

" - may be yet another experiment."

What the Colonel was telling her didn't surprise Oon'ah. That Xanthra had come under official notice, however, did have her concerned. She pressed on to find out more.

"Then how did she wind up here?" she asked.

"I don't know," Kim'Vallara confessed, "but, from what we do know of the Aurean genetic makeup it's clear she has, definitely, not been naturally bred - which means that she has been deliberately bred - which means that Aurea could be very interested in tracing her whereabouts, and retrieving her."

"They do keep a tight lid on their genetics program," Oon'ah ventured of her own. "Maybe this one found a crack, and managed to slip through."

"She'd have to be very smart to do that," the Colonel surmised, "but I suppose it's not impossible."

"What about the original documentation that brought her to Binkley's World in the first place?" Oon'ah asked.

"Her background checks out," Kim'Vallara related, "at least on the surface, so I doubt that she's a deliberate plant by the Aureans."

"So, she's a rogue?" Oon'ah inquired.

She was trying to glean the Colonel's attitude toward Xanthra without giving herself away. She found the way Kim'Vallara's eyes fixed on her unsettling.

"That remains to be seen," he told her.

Oon'ah felt an involuntary chill rush through her body.

"It's become imperative that word of this Xanthra not get back to Aurea," Kim'Vallara stated. "For that reason, none of the Aurean residents are to leave Binkley's World, nor are they to be allowed any communication either to, or from, Aurea. Enough of them saw what she did yesterday, and, by now, word has gotten 'round, so, all of them know what she did. If we sent them back home, they would tell of what they know, and Aurea might come after her in force.

"I don't need to tell you that the Binkleyans, determined though they are, would not be able to stand up to an Aurean attack in their present condition," the Colonel went on to say, "and Raul'lan tells me that our own resources are stretched pretty thin, so we would not be able to give them the support they would most likely need.

"Which leads me to a proposal I put on the table at yesterday's general meeting," he intoned with slow deliberation.

What proposal? Oon'ah wondered.

"Integrate the resident Aureans, and make them part of Binkleyan society."

Oon'ah burst out laughing at this. She couldn't help it. The thought of Aureans as a part of any society was too incredulous to entertain, let alone consider seriously.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir," Oon'ah snickered, struggling to stifle herself, "really."

Kim'Vallara smiled good naturedly at his fellow Velorian.

"Your response is a lot more charitable than the one I got at the meeting yesterday," he related easily.

"I am sorry," Oon'ah assured her superior. She presented her open hands to him. "but . . . "

"We can't send them home, and they can't remain prisoners in containment forever," Kim'Vallara explained. "The Binkleyans would just as soon execute the lot of them, but, that not being an option, integration is really the way we have of dealing with the Aurean presence here."

"What did the Binkleyan Conciliate have to say to that?" Oon'ah inquired.

"They were totally against the idea," the Colonel related, "until I pointed out the potential risks to them. Being at the top of Aurea's shit-list is one thing - it's something they're rather proud of in fact, but if it became known that they were harboring a genetic fugitive, it could easily turn into something much more serious."

"Then why not just send this . . . "

"Xanthra?"

"Yes sir, thank you, sir," said Oon'ah. She was playing devil's advocate - and gambling wildly, but she had to know the Colonel's attitude toward Xanthra. "Why not just send her off world if she's that great a concern?"

"I considered that," Kim'Vallara said as he began toying with his paperweight again. "but her being here is not a threat - at least, not yet. The problem is her traceability. We can't change that, or make it go away - and even if we did send her off planet, where would we put her? Presumably, we're the only ones who know anything of her true nature. I think it's best that she remain here where we can keep an eye on her."

Hearing this gave Oon'ah ample cause to close her eyes.

Thank you, Skietra! She prayed with a sincerity she'd rarely known. Thank you!

"Don't take it so hard, Oon'ah," she heard the Colonel counsel.

"What?" Oon'ah quickly said, eyes wide open.

She hastily wiped a tear away with a knuckle.

"Excuse me, sir."

"I know you'd like to see the last of the Aureans the same as we all would," said Kim'Vallara with notable fatigue, "but there's really no other way to handle this."

"Sir?"

"The Binkleyans know it too," Kim'Vallara went on, "so they've agreed to a test to see if the Aureans can be assimilated into their society."

"What sort of test?" Oon'ah wondered.

The Colonel glanced at her. Oon'ah could see his look of doubtful concern.

"Don't laugh when I tell you this," he said to preface what was to come.

His attention gravitated back to the paperweight in his hand. Oon'ah would have been on the edge of her seat if she hadn't been anxiously levitated two inches above it.

"Aureans, and Velorians, paired together on an individual basis in everyday living situations for a period of one local month."

Oon'ah suddenly dropped from view beyond the edge of the Colonel's desk. There was an audible *thump* as her invulnerable body hit the floor.

"B'Té!" Kim'Vallara ejaculated as he shot up from his chair.

In the next instant, Oon'ah shot up into the air.

"It's all right! I'm okay!" she chattered from the height of dignity recovery mode. "Velorian Protector falling out of her chair - Dumb! - no big deal, like, it happens every day - DUMB! - right?"

Kim'Vallara looked on with concern as the levitated blonde beauty tried to make light of what had happened. Oon'ah fretfully straightened herself, her hair, whatever.

"Are you sure you're alright?" the Colonel wished to know.

"Sure," Oon'ah assured.

She opted to sit her naked self primly in the air five feet above the floor.

"Fine!" she chirped as brightly as she could under the circumstances.

Kim'Vallara allowed a moment for the moment to pass before continuing.

"Believe me, I fully realize that the notion of Aureans, and Velorians, living in harmony is shocking," he said as he resumed his seat, "to say the least, but the Binkleyans reason that if Aureans can coexist peacefully with Velorians, then they can coexist peacefully with any life form."

He sat back, and tried to relax.

"Much as I wanted to, I couldn't argue with their logic - not without shooting myself in the foot at any rate."

He glanced at the attentive, levitated Protector.

"So, we're stuck, I'm afraid," he went on, "and we have to make this work."

Kim'Vallara's nervous attention returned to the paperweight on his desk. Oon'ah could tell that the topic was not a pleasant one for the Colonel.

"I'm authorizing a sponsorship program to begin this process of integration," he informed his new chief of Aurean integration. "The Aureans will remain in Velorian custody, but - as I've said - on an individual basis. Primes will be paired with Protectors - Betans with members of our civilian staff. The particulars, and who winds up with who, I leave entirely up to your discretion, - "

Thanks a lot -

"but I specifically want you, and Xanthra, paired together."

"What?!"

"She's a special case, Oon'ah," the Colonel pointed out, "so she requires special handling."

With the matter finally out, Kim'Vallara could relax. The paperweight lay on the desk beneath his idle fingers.

"From the time she left Aurea, several years ago," he observed, "her classification has been that of a Betan pleasure unit."

He reflected on the unique Aurean who'd wound up in his charge.

"She's covered herself very well," he went on, "it's really quite an admirable feat of deception she's pulled off when you think about it. We don't know anything of her true capabilities, or intent."

He looked at Oon'ah specifically.

"I leave that for you to find out, but I think you can appreciate that it's to everyone's best interest that she remain covered. I think you understand."

"Yes, sir."

"And, B'Te... cool it."

Meaning, he knew... but not officially?

***

Like a corpse rising from its grave, Protector Ly'n slowly emerged to her waist from one of the lower peaks of the central mountain range where the disturbance had been concentrated. She, and Protector Bea'trice, were investigating its cause. Ly'n was not a happy Protector at the moment. She was completely coated with a layer of cooling, slowly crazing magma.

"About this shit detail you've got me on," she commented to Protector Bea.

A pair of heat beams shot from her eyes - along with lava spatterings, and vapor, from the magma that had coated them.

From the comparative sanity of the nearby rock she sat on, Bea took due note of her fellow Protector's stinking, steaming, black and red glowing form.

"You look beautiful," she said. "If I were a rock, I'd jump your stones."

"Eahea," Ly'n forced herself to laugh in mockery. "You are so funny," she added drolly.

With the aid of a rock encrusted finger, she honked lava first from nostril, then from the other.

"Are you sure this is the last one?" she asked.

"It's the last one," Protector Bea assured her.

Ly'n held something out to Bea. A rain of crumbled rock fell from her arm, and shoulder.

"Here," she said, "I found this about forty miles down."

Bea took the item from her. It looked like a bowl of cooling magma. Ly'n extracted her lower body from the rock as she shook out her hair.

"Hey! Watch that!" Bea snapped, protesting the cascade of pebbles coming at her from Ly'n's flying hair.

"Well, excuse me all to Aurea," Ly'n retorted as she levitated higher in the air. "Being covered with rock is not exactly my idea of an evening dress y'know."

She spun at high speed to fling the rest of the rock from her body by centrifugal force.

"I see what you mean," Bea commented, gingerly picking fragments of rock from the bowl's surface with her fingertips.

Oh, pul - ease! thought Ly'n.

She put herself to the task of manually dislodging a large, and stubborn, wedgie of half molten rock.

"How about that," she heard Bea comment.

"What?" Ly'n wondered.

She flexed her feet. Crumbling rock fell from her soles. Bea had finished her cleaning of the item Ly'n had found. She held up for her to see.

"A Binkleyan bandana," Bea informed Ly'n.

"You're kidding," said Ly'n. "Where I found that, it shouldn't even be ash."

She worked her fingers to break the rock loose from her knuckles. Bea passed the bandana under her nose.

"Hm," she noted casually of the bandana's odor, "honey and wildflowers."

Ly'n was still covered with rock, and burnt dust. Her hair looked like a collapsed Afro wig, it was so filled with pebbles, and broken chips of rock. She sat on a boulder to clean the half-cooled lava from between her toes.

"What was a Protector doing out here?" she wondered, "I mean - down there."

A stone invaded her comfort. She rose to brush off her back side, and used the power of her breath to clean the surface of her perch.

"Stupid rocks!" she muttered before resuming her seat, and attending to her toes.

"I don't know what a Protector would be doing out this way," Bea said, thoughtfully observing the bandana in her hand. She gathered it in her fist. "But whatever she was doing . . . " She squeezed. A flow of liquid fell from the bottom of her fist. " - she was doin' a lot of it."

"Jeez," Ly'n commented with surprise at the copious amount of moisture.

Bea looked the bandana over in her hand.

"It's what kept this thing from burning," she noted.

Ly'n shook her rock encumbered head as she rubbed away the dried magma adhered to her shins.

"I keep tellin' ya," she sighed. "If we packaged ourselves, and sold it as an aphrodisiac, and preservative - we'd make millions, and be able to retire."

"Packaging, Ly'n," said Bea as she undid the bandana from its crumpled state, "that's the problem. It takes a lot to hold us hot, little Vels. The cost alone would consume any profits, and who'd want to buy perfume in a bottle that looked like it could hold nuclear fuel?"

"Mm," Ly'n grumbled, still picking specs from her shins, "what if we freeze-dried?"

Bea laughed.

"Ya know, your saying that just made me have the craziest thought."

She gave her observing fellow Protector a knowing look, the bandana swinging gently from the end of an extended finger.

"Oon is the only one of us whose whereabouts last night has not been accounted for," she proposed.

The two Protectors regarded one another for a long, and thoughtful, moment as Bea continued to gently swing the bandana.

The bandana came to rest on her finger.

"Nah!" they both then said at once.

"'Ramrod'?" Ly'n commented laughingly in disbelief. "That chick's so frigid you could freeze ice up her snatch."

"Yeah well," Bea noted soberly, turning the bandana over in her hands, "what happened to her hasn't happened to everyone."

"Yeah . . . ," said Ly'n in somber reflection.

Bea gathered the bandana in her fist again, and squeezed out even more moisture from the cloth.

"She had a wonderful time, whoever she was," she observed in a dreamy way, then she looked to Ly'n with a dreamy smile, "wish I'd been here."

Ly'n laughed easily. She took a lock of hair between her hands, and began to crush the rock from it.

"I'm gonna have to go to the sun to get this clean," she groused.

"Say, uh," it occurred to her, "we didn't think to check for honey, and wildflowers, did we."

She began excavating the rock from beneath her fingernails.

"Nope," said Bea with a sigh, "which means that we need to go back, and take a look."

"Fine," said Ly'n.

She removed a cleaned nail from between her teeth.

"You're diving this time."

She turned her head to one side, and spat.

Bea made an obvious show of fluffing her luxurious wealth of flaxen yellow tresses.

"Oh, but I just washed my hair," she said with a appropriate pout.

Ly'n smiled at her fellow Protector as she relieved herself of another chip of rock. She was confident that Bea had a clear, and present, choice of either 1) diving in, or 2) getting thrown in.

***

Oon'ah had to fight like the dickens to maintain her public demeanor of dour reserve. She fairly skipped through the air on her way to the Aurean internment facility. She was so happy she couldn't believe it! Here she thought she was going to be engaged in the struggle of her life to have Xanthra with her, and now - BANG! - out of the blue, they were officially paired! She couldn't believe her good fortune, or the Colonel's good will. Something RIGHT in her life had fin-ally happened!

I wonder if she'll recognize me with clothes on? HA! There's a switch for you!

Her uniform had been forwarded to her while she'd been at headquarters.

Hardly anybody recognized me naked, and now I'm wondering if I'll be recognized dressed. Skietra! I don't even recognize me!

It was going to be wonnnnderful! she thought as the facility came within her sight. She would claim her woman - her life! - her love! They would gaze on one another longingly - then clutch in tearful embrace! They would undress each other slowly, then treat the entire Binkley's World populace to the greatest exhibition of sex between two humanoids anyone had ever witnessed - they'd even leave the Protectors breathless with excitement, awe and envy! - and then the two of them would fly off to the stars, and be happy - ever afterward. Ever happy afterward! Not another trace of care or sorrow would either of them ever know! They would live only for each other! It would be wonderful, and last for all eternity -

"Can I help you?" asked a male's age-encumbered voice.

Oon'ah was abruptly shocked awake to find herself standing at the corral in the company of a very old, and very tired looking, Binkleyan man. His clothing appeared to be as soiled, and rumpled, as his person, but that didn't surprise her. Fresh water was still Binkley's World's most pressing problem, and bathing was a relative luxury.

She recognized the old man as the gate keeper of the facility. One of the hill people who had survived the Aurean occupation. Though the Velorians were in charge of the planet's Aurean residents, the Binkleyans had insisted on maintaining an official presence. They could kill two birds with one stone by giving the old man this post as a sinecure.

"Oon'ah B'Té," Oon'ah officially informed the man.

The elderly gentleman produced a folded list, and began perusing the names on it.

"Oon'ah B'Té . . . ," he mumbled slowly as he searched.

Oon'ah waited patiently within the reserved demeanor she deemed proper for an Auxiliary Protector as other people in the area went about their business. Inside, however, she was like an exploding star of excitement! There were so many things she wanted to do to Xanthra - with Xanthra, that she couldn't think of what to do first. Oh, she hastily decided, we'll just do . . . everything! I mean, we're Supremis, aren't we? Yeah, we'll do everything - and then . . . we'll do it all over again, and then . . . again . . . and then -

"I don't have an 'Oon'ah B'Té' on my list," the old gate keeper said.

Oon'ah's attention snapped back. Her eyes refocused on the old Binkleyan to see him in the process of scratching an itch. By the look of him, she judged that he must have several.

"No," Oon'ah politely strove to correct, and explain, "I - am Oon'ah B'Té, Velorian Auxiliary Protector in charge of Aurean integration."

"'Integration'?" the man exclaimed. "I've heard of that - yes I have. Don't like it, ma'am. Not one bit! No good will come of it, you can mark my words!"

Oon'ah wouldn't've thought the man capable of such an outburst - tired though it had been. She tried to return to the point of her visit.

"I'm not here to discuss that, sir," she pointed out to the man. "I'm here to claim an Aurean Betan woman. Xanthra is her name."

"Xanthra . . . ," the Binkleyan mumbled.

He began examining his list again.

Oon'ah bore another period of waiting. She tried to remain rooted in the here, and now, but she couldn't help thinking of how she missed the taste of Xanthra's sugar, and spice. Skietra, that woman was beautiful! There wasn't a single curve of her gorgeous body that wasn't anything less than sublimely perfect. The placement of every gene was by divine intent! She saw the two of them cunt slapping each other across an endless landscape of erotic heaven.

"I have three Betan women by the name of 'Xanthra' on my list," the gate keeper informed her at length.

He looked up to note the glazed state of Oon'ah's eyes.

"Do you have a last name?" he asked.

"B'Té," Oon'ah said with a conspicuous tone of dreamy distraction.

"'B'Té' . . . ," the gate keeper reiterated thoughtfully.

He checked his list again.

Oon'ah could feel Xanthra's glorious mouth on her . . . everywhere. How could another know her so exactly at first touch? Providence! It had to be! No other force could have conspired to such a perfect union as they two! Xanthra's hands were so sure - her fists so attentive!

"I don't have a 'Xanthra B'Té' on my list," the gate keeper informed her.

Oon'ah's perfect vision of Xanthra's beautiful, glowing genitals became her somewhat less than perfect view of the Binkleyan's weathered features.

"No," she sought to clarify, although the politeness of her tone was a bit strained now, "B'Té is my last name."

The gate keeper's eyebrows rose curiously, then lowered with equal curiosity.

"What would I want with your last name?" he asked her.

"I . . . don't know," Oon'ah confessed.

Along with feeling miffed over her reveries being repeatedly invaded, she was becoming flustered.

"You asked me for a last name."

"I meant the last name of the 'Xanthra' you're looking for, ma'am," the old Binkleyan clarified.

"Oh," said Oon'ah.

Her lips pursed slightly as she realized that she didn't know Xanthra's last name. She hadn't made a point of remembering Kim'Vallara's mentioning it. The name had been on her stat sheet when she, and Xanthra, had first met in her office, but she'd been so captivated by the Aurean's beauty that it had quickly become lost to her.

"Uhm . . . ," Oon'ah mumbled awkwardly.

"I'll need a last name, ma'am," the old Binkleyan reminded her.

"Well," Oon'ah groped, her mind racing, "I don't exactly know her last name, you see."

"Hm," the old man grunted doubtfully.

"Maybe I can describe her to you," Oon'ah offered.

The look of the old Binkleyan was not encouraging.

"She's, uh," Oon'ah forged ahead, "tall - like my height, very good looking, has black hair and very blue eyes."

The look of the old Binkleyan was still not encouraging.

He blinked.

"All Aurean women are tall, very good looking, have black hair and deep blue eyes," he informed her academically.

Oon'ah sighed.

Of course they do, she chided herself.

"Uhm . . . "

An idea hit her.

"Oh, I know," she quickly said, then she applied her fingers to her pelvis so as to pantomime the lay, and outline, of Xanthra's thong. "She's wearing a - " was all she got out before she remembered, No, she's not. Xanthra had left her thong in her office the previous day.

"Uhm . . . "

The gate keeper waited patiently.

"She's wearing a bandana!" Oon'ah suddenly recalled.

The look of the old Binkleyan was not encouraging.

He shrugged.

"A lot of the Aureans wear bandanas," he informed her.

"Well, this isn't an ordinary bandana," Oon'ah chattered on, "it's very distinct, because," before she considered that, "it's . . . uh . . . scented."

The old Binkleyan continued looking up at her.

"'Scented'," he reiterated for the benefit of their mutual understanding.

"Yes," Oon'ah confirmed, " . . . scented."

The gate keeper drew a noticeable breath through his nose as he considered the term in the light of their mutual understanding.

"And just what is the . . . odor of this particular . . . scent?" he wished to know.

Oon'ah realized that the Binkleyan was, obviously, unfamiliar with the . . . attraction pheromones of a Supremis. She was reduced to groping once again.

"It's a very distinct scent," she attempted to clarify without clarifying. "You can't miss it."

The old Binkleyan continued to look up at her.

"But can you - identify this . . . odor?" he inquired.

Oon'ah looked on him pleadingly.

"Lookin' for anyone special?" asked a hard edged, feminine voice.

Oon'ah looked up, and, suddenly, nothing else existed. There was Xanthra.

She stood on one hip the other side of the pipe corral fence, her opposing elbow perched on the top rail. She had that fuck you-dare me-I can lick you senseless any time smirk on her beautiful face. It was a look that Oon'ah had come to love, and a look which she was coming to know well.

She didn't know how much of her conversation with the gate keeper Xanthra had overheard, but none of that mattered anymore. Nothing mattered anymore as she held out her hand to her life, and bid her, "Come with me."

The inviting plea of a lover's command took Xanthra unexpected. She balked momentarily - unwilling to believe what she'd heard, then she grasped the top rail, and gracefully vaulted herself over the fence to the other side. She approached Oon'ah with the care of measured steps, stopping close enough to feel the Velorian's warm exhalations on her chest. Each others eyes were all that either of them saw.

"Xanthra R'N," Xanthra said for the gate keeper's benefit.

"'Xanthra R'N'," the gate keeper mumbled as he consulted his list.

Xanthra slowly passed around behind Oon'ah - making sure that their shoulders brushed as she went. It was the first time they'd touched in hours! Oon'ah closed her eyes. She felt helplessly out of breath.

"Ah, here we are," the old Binkleyan said. "'Xanthra R'N'," he read from his list. He looked up at Oon'ah. "I do have who you're looking for."

"I've come to claim her," Oon'ah said. "Her release is to be permanent. She will remain in my company until further notice."

"An Aurean?" the old Binkleyan said with surprise. "Out of containment?"

The fact of how it sat with him was of no concern to Oon'ah, but she had to observe Binkleyan protocol.

"Aureans routinely traverse to my office," she pointed out. "They've also been released into a Protector's care for work duty."

"But they've always been returned to the facility," the gate keeper stipulated.

"That policy is to be relaxed," said Oon'ah.

"Mmm, I don't know . . . ," the old Binkleyan grumbled. "I don't like it, I can tell you that. Not one bit! She's a bad one, she is. You should have seen what she did here yesterday. I don't like it at all, but you Velorians are officially in change of the Aureans. I just hope you know what you're doing."

He produced a weighty sheaf of papers.

"Are you familiar with the contractual obligations for assuming possession of an Aurean?" he inquired.

"Tiresomely," Oon'ah responded.

Unfazed, the gate keeper went on to explain.

"The Binkleyan Conciliate - in it's foresight, and wisdom - has had the foresight, and wisdom, to compose a set of rules for unsupervised Aurean possession," he prefaced to say.

He then proceeded to elaborate, at length, on the many clauses, articles, terms, conditions, restrictions and limitations of the official document he was so proud to represent - and which did seem to be a tad bit cleaner than himself.

Oon'ah made as polite a show as she could of listening. Xanthra stood behind her, her intimately experienced hand playing under the skirt of her uniform - the raised nipple of a Supremis firm breast teasing against the back of Oon'ah's shoulder.

Oon'ah grew distracted by the attention. She tried shooing Xanthra's hand away from her bottom, but was always thankful when it returned. She worked her shoulder to shoo her breast away, but was always thrilled to feel the distinctive press of her gorgeous little raisin again.

"This particular rule," the gate keeper continued, "applies only in the event of a hangnail on the left hand's third digit on the second Thursday of each month - leap years not included." He looked up at Oon'ah. "That is important to remember."

Listening to the Binkleyan was getting harder for her as he went on, and on. She was having an increasingly more difficult time giving a shit about him, or his forms, or his need for signatures. Awareness of Xanthra's touch was tearing at her everywhere. She wanted to backhand the aggressively amorous Aurean as hard as she could, then eat her to within a millimeter of her life!

"Xa!"

She'd turned abruptly. They faced each other. There was nothing else.

In the next instant, their mouths were locked together in passionate embrace. Each of them blocked out everything but the feel of the other kissing them. Their moistened lips wrecked loving havoc, giving all, taking all, expressing what no other could. They kept their hands away, and even kept their breasts from touching. They knew that more would lead to more until life itself would be consumed in the singular blaze they shared.

It took the utmost force of will for them to part. Each knew she was needed as she needed. At end, a desperate buss from one, and then the other took a portion of her upper lip between her teeth, then sighed to let it slip away.

"This concludes the reading of the text, thereby fulfilling my obligation to inform you of just what you're letting yourself in for," the old Binkleyan concluded. "What's that smell?"

He worked his nose in apparent effort to identify something in the atmosphere that seemed not to his liking.

Xanthra smiled shyly. Oon'ah closed her eyes, and bared her teeth.

"It's woman smell!" she stated, turning on the man. '"It's the scent of a Supremis!" she declared without a care as to what who heard. "It's the honey and wildflowers of a Velorian, and the sugar and spice of an Aurean - both in a dangerously heightened state of sexual arousal."

She squared her feminine shoulders to give her incomparable breasts some added lift. More than anything at the moment, she wanted to feel Xanthra's sharp teeth gnashing away at her painfully waiting clit.

The old Binkleyan looked up at Oon'ah curiously.

"Any further questions!" she demanded.

The old Binkleyan continued looking up at her.

"Nnnnnnope!" he answered.

Xanthra's fingers touched the back of Oon'ah's hand. It calmed her instantly.

"What papers do you need signed?" she asked.

The release, and contract, were attended to. When all was in order, the gate keeper filed the completed papers into a pocket.

"Now that the forms have been finalized," he said to Oon'ah, "we may now proceed with your taking possession of your desired Aurean."

Oon'ah, and Xanthra, joined hands, both of them giddy with joy. They gazed on the gate keeper with glowing anticipation. The old Binkleyan made a show of straightening his tattered cloak, and cleared his throat - only to be unexpectedly taken by a protracted fit of fearsome coughing. When he looked as if he might expire at any moment, however, he recovered, and successfully reclaimed his official manner.

"We are gathered here together," he announced for those around to hear, "to witness the joining of this Aurean, and this Velorian."

The ceremony raised a number of eyebrows. Oon'ah, and Xanthra, had eyes only for each other.

"By the power vested in me by the Conciliate of Binkley's World, in conjunction with the Velorian Recovery Authority," the gate keeper further stated, "I hereby pronounce you - paired!"

The happy couple couldn't've been more delighted.

"Good luck," the old Binkleyan said to Oon'ah, with a doubtful glance toward Xanthra.

"You're going to need it."

Next Chapter