Chapter Four

By the time planetary species develop the technology for interstellar space travel, their societies usually have become or have started to become unified. Whether this is due to the supreme efforts and expense to build interstellar vehicles or due to a fundamental societal maturity leading up to this effort is unclear. What has been shown is that most planets enter the interstellar community as a single socio-political entity.

The Askarans were one of the exceptions. Passionate, opinionated, fractious, obstinate, all were characteristics shared by most on their planet. They were a traditional people and breaking with tradition was one of their favorites. They loved everything. They argued over everything. They fought over everything. Small wars were commonplace, yet short in duration. However, in spite of their myriad differences of opinion, they were still able to work together and build dynamic, energetic societies.

The Askarans themselves were borderline repto-humanoid. Their hairless skin had a scaly characteristic and displayed a motley array of yellows, greens and browns. In all other ways, they resembled humans.

When Feld, or Kenmark as he was known as then, had landed on Askara II, he was in need of a good place to lay low and regain his strength. His latest work with the Spice Guild of Mentath had been somewhat less than exemplary and his theft of a holy relic in return for withheld payment hardly endeared him in their eyes. Askara was not known to the Mentaths and would therefore be the perfect place to hide out. Given the Askarans appetite for conflict and the fact that they were notoriously bad at anything secretive or covert, it might also be a great place to make a credit or two. The latter idea was his first mistake.

His second mistake was agreeing to meet with T’Malka A’Qarth, Princess of Thuun. Thuun was the second largest of the 25 nations of Askara. It was also one of the most ambitious. T’Malka was the only child of P’Tal and T’Luun A’Qarth, the King and Queen of Thuun, and was every bit as ambitious as her parents. She was head of the nation’s security apparatus and, in that capacity, notified Feld of her intentions to hire him.

When Feld first met with T’Malka, he was surprised by the complete lack of any kind of pheromone sense. While he had noticed that most Askaran women had a very subdued scent, the complete lack of scent caught him off guard. Regardless of that fact, the meeting was cordial and Feld agreed to do some low-level observation work in several of the other Askaran countries for a fairly handsome payment.

Days became weeks became months and low-level observation work became video reconnaissance became courier and dead drop ops with ever increasing payments.

After his latest mission, Feld was called back to Thuunevaal, Thuun’s capital city, for a direct report to T’Malka. Meeting in her safehouse apartments, Feld was again struck by her lack of pheromone scent. Shaking off his unease, Feld listened as T’Malka thanked him again for jobs well done and told him how his services were greatly appreciated by the royal family and citizenry of Thuun.

She shuffled through some papers on her desk, paused then and met his eyes for a time. Finally she said, “Today, Thuun finds itself in a difficult situation. We are a warlike people; that should come as no surprise to you by now. However, usually our conflicts are over minor disputes or political perceptions and are over quickly enough to recover from. Something else, though, is happening.” She paused, then added, “All reports that I’ve received over the past year or so seem to indicate a multinational attack is building up against us. Thuun is going to need every able-bodied Thuunian in the military if we hope to survive this attack with our national integrity intact. However, even with that, it may not be enough.”

She stood up and walked around the desk, motioning for Feld to follow her. Together they walked from the office through the sitting room and out onto the balcony overlooking the city. Down below and well into the distance was a bustling city, teeming with life and energy. T’Malka put both hands on the balcony’s railing and leaned forward looking into the distance as if salvation could be delivered from the horizon through sheer will. After a minute or so, she dropped her head and turned to face Feld, eyes full of concern. “Kenmark, Thuun needs friends, even outworlder friends. Please understand that our pride makes this difficult to ask of an outworlder. However, I see no other easy way. I fear the next war that Thuun finds herself involved in will be a war for her very survival. I…, we need your help.” A pause, then, “How much are you willing to do for Thuun? Will you help us? Will you help me?”

It hit him then, like a brick in the face. A pheromone sense like no other he had sensed before. The scent was foreign yet familiar. It was the wild abandon of running the white water rapids back home, and the exhiliration of a shared childhood prank, and the excited promise of newfound love. And it enveloped him and consumed him whole. A quick, panicked thought flitted across his conscious mind warning him that this was more than a strong signature. The warning died, though, as his eyes drank in her golden eyes, her dark green mottled skin, the curves of her body both seen and hinted. His last conscious words were a husky-soft “Yes”, as his lips met hers and the white water rapids washed his mind away.

Feld consciousness drowsily returned to him in a berthing compartment of an Askaran maglev en route to somewhere. Trailing behind were the scattered memories of the past three days. Under the bedsheets Feld was naked which, apart from the journey to the maglev station, was how he spent most of those three days, so his memories told him. His memories told him many other things as well as he lie there regaining his wits. Many, many other things.

Feld got up from bed and walked to the shower, passing his folded clothes on the side table and his new Askaran travelling robe on the door hook. He knew his new orders were in one of the robe’s pockets, but he couldn’t care less at this point. What he needed right now was a hot shower, alone this time he grunted to himself, and some time to think about what had happened.

Feld fought to organize his thoughts and feelings. He felt a curious mixture of contented pride and shame over the recollected events and was deeply troubled by the lack of control he experienced from T’Malka’s pheromone signature. It wasn’t just the lack of control that concerned him. Feld had put himself in situations before where he just let things happen and enjoyed the results of chaotic circumstances, but this was different. He had made no prior conscious decision to indulge himself in T’Malka’s pleasures and, most importantly, had felt no desire to do so beforehand either. The most troubling thought though was that he wanted to do it again. And not as a conscious desire, but as an unconscious need. The fact that he didn’t see the harm in it should have been a clue of sorts.

After his shower, Feld dressed, ordered a meal and read his new orders. He sighed audibly after reading the single page document. He was to destroy a military maglev switching station in the neighboring country of Kithuun.

It was the beginning of a cycle that would last 18 months and start a covert war among the nations of Askara. Feld would return from his assignment, lose three or so days to T’Malka and find himself on a maglev for parts unknown with new orders. Each cycle reinforced Feld’s need for T’Malka’s presence and his desire to please her. When Feld’s fourth sabotage mission failed due to increased security, T’Malka did not meet him in her safehouse apartments. Instead, Feld was sent to a flophouse on the outskirts of Thuunvaal and received his new orders by courier. Feld responded by completing both of his missions, getting slightly wounded in the process. T’Malka gave him five full days for that.

As the days and missions wore on, his need to complete the mission outweighed his compassion to avoid unnecessary casualties. As security tightened, more personnel were maimed or killed in fulfillment of the mission. No risk was too great nor any obstacle too high. Success bred success and desire bred desire.

After months of this kind of mutual sabotage, the nations of Askara decided to meet to end the war. All covert operations ceased and Feld found himself back in T’Malka’s apartments. She kept him there for twenty or so days of unceasing delirium while the negotiations took place. Finally, it was time for a new mission.

This time it took Feld three full days on his own to regain his senses. When he did, he found himself in a low-class apartment in Valkevaal, the capital city of Valke, the largest nation on the planet. He was watching the live video feed of the peace negotiations and trying to reconstruct his memories. His heart jumped when he saw the Askaran leaders, including T’Malka’s parents, making their way to a long table on a dais in the city government plaza. He knew immediately that the dais was wired to a large bomb and he knew who had put it there.

In his right hand was a remote control, but it had nothing to do with the vidscreen he was looking at. Horrified, he was considering his options, when he heard the door behind him open. He began to swoon, but he fought hard to maintain control, knowing what the immediate future held. She approached him quickly and stood behind the low-backed sofa he was sitting in. She ran her hands along his shoulders and up behind his neck, running her hands into his thick reddish hair. He felt himself losing control, but he kept fighting nonetheless. She ran her hands down over his shoulders and onto his chest as she bent down and whispered in his left ear, “Hello my little Field Marshall. Did you miss me?”

“Yes. Yes, my love. I’ve missed you horribly.” Feld was barely aware of where the response came from.

“Have all the preparations been made?” she purred into his ear.

“Yes. Everything’s ready. All that needs to be done is to trigger the detonation with this remote.” Feld reached up with his left hand and ran his fingers over the smooth scales on the top of her head. “I ache for you.” he whispered and turned to kiss T’Malka full on the mouth.

She put a finger over his lips and pulled her head away just slightly. “Now now, my love. Your mission isn’t complete yet. We need this one final victory before you can conquer me.” As Feld turned his head back to the vidscreen, she moved in closer, nibbled on his ear and ran her right hand into his hair. She whispered, “When my parents take their seats, you may complete your mission, my little Field Marshall.” She thought a bit and said, “Field Marshall. Such a cold name, Field Marshall. Much too formal, though you certainly deserve the rank.” A pause, then, “How did your ancestors pronounce it? Feldmarschal? That has a nice ring to it. My little feldmarschal. My little Feldy. Hmmm… Feldy, when my parents take their seats, would you be so kind as to obliterate them?” Her laughter rang like birdsong across his consciousness.

When P’Tal and T’Luun A’Qarth of Thuun took their seats, Feld managed to keep his thumb off the button. “Feldy, is something wrong? It’s time to fulfill your destiny. It’s time to push the button.” Like a life raft in a hurricane, Feld focused all the will he had and kept his thumb off the dreaded button. Perhaps, he thought, he could beat this. Perhaps he might actually be able to… become utterly consumed in all that was T’Malka’s desire. Completely unaware of subsequent moments, Feld pushed the button.

Feld regained his senses in an Askaran military prison outside of Valkevaal. Over the next few days, he would learn that the bomb had not detonated when he pressed the button on the remote. Feld’s earlier successes had made him a marked man and Valkian security forces had spotted his entry into the country. Instead of arresting him immediately, it was decided to set a trap for whoever was behind the operation. The bomb was defused right after Feld had installed it and a receiver was set up to notify security when the transmitter was activated.

Right after Feld had pressed the button, security forces moved on the apartment. T’Malka, however, tipped off by the fact that there was no explosion on the vidscreen, made her escape. Worse still, she engaged a secondary plan and other covert operatives opened fire on the dais. While less impressive than a large scale detonation, the carnage was just as complete. Agitated security officers found their senseless primary suspect and roughly arrested him.

T’Malka immediately assumed power and Thuun used the initial confusion to rapidly assault their neighbors. Other, smaller countries allied with the stronger Thuun and a global war was at hand. Feld cooperated with his interrogators and described his activities and motives as best he could. When Feld described his pheromone sense and T’Malka’s effects upon that sense, Askaran medical teams were brought in to examine Feld. After several invasive tests, no cause could be found to account for the type of behavior he described. It was determined that Feld invented that aspect of his testimony so as to get a lesser sentence. After a quick trial, Feld was convicted of several counts of several state crimes and sentenced to death. In light of the fact that he had been mostly forthcoming in his testimony and taking his successful military experience into account, Feld was given a choice between death or military service in a penal unit. Feld chose the latter.

Feld spent the entirety of the war with the 467th Penal Battalion. Four years after the start of the war, as the Grand Allied Armies marched into Thuun, the 467th was prepared for the assault on Thuunvaal. By now, Feld was the only survivor of the original complement of men and women, though he had been wounded numerous times.

When the final assault came, the 467th, led by a Capt. KenMark, once again led the way into a hostile city with their arsenal of stun weapons and, once again, the unit took horrible losses finding booby traps, mapping minefields and softening up fortified positions. As the battle in the city intensified, and military units fragmented into individual squads and platoons, Feld found himself near T’Malka’s old safehouse apartments. He went in to search for any clues that might relate to her whereabouts and found T’Malka in her old office collecting documents. Along the back wall, a hidden door was slightly ajar.

She looked up, surprised. Then she flashed a smile as Feld felt his consciousness slip away in a way that was so familiar and oh so wonderful.

“Feldy, sweetling. I can’t believe you’re still alive. Have you come to say goodbye? I’d stay and shag you one last time, but I’m a little busy right now.”

“So am I”, Feld replied as he squeezed the trigger of the stun rifle. T’Malka’s body went completely limp as she fell to the floor. Standing over her still form, Feld, with complete clarity of thought, stunned her several more times. Battle fatigue, it seems, did have its advantages.

Feld activated the comm link. “Capt. KenMark of the 467th to task force command. I have T’Malka A’Qarth in my possession. Repeat. I have T’Malka A’Qarth in my possession. Copy?”