CHAPTER 1: PLANETFALL

	Dennis adjusted his tie, and breathed on the shiny UNN badge pinned to his lapel, polishing it with his sleeve as he looked out through the shuttle viewport. Below the tiny craft Borealis hung in space like a monstrous Christmas ornament, the arid world's twin suns blazing in the distance. The yellow secondary was almost obscured by the bright glare of the white primary, and smears of pale clouds streaked across the moonless planet's surface like the paintbrush strokes of a lazy deity. 
	Long years of law school and unpaid internships had finally led him to this, deployed to Borealis by the United Nations to serve as the first ambassador to Earth. They had seemed eager to ship him off, he must be needed urgently, and he had swelled with pride as his diplomatic papers had been handed to him. There were no senior diplomats available for the position, they had all mysteriously vanished when the post had been announced, but Dennis had not hesitated to take on his first real assignment. He didn't know much about the planet and its people, but he knew that it had only recently been inducted into the Coalition of allied worlds, and many Borealans had never met a human before.
	He would be building bridges and smoothing relations between Earth and Borealis, and more importantly, meeting new people with alien cultures and strange practices, his heart fluttered with excitement. He would not be pushing papers here, this would be an adventure!  
	“Ambassador Carlisle, would you please take a seat and strap in? We'll be landing shortly.” The pilot said, craning his head back into the shuttle compartment. Dennis nodded and sat down in one of the seats that lined the walls, this was a troop transport, hardly luxurious, but in order to make the seventy five light year journey from Earth to Borealis he had to hitch a ride on a Navy jump freighter. The massive ships were among the few classes of vessel capable of using superlight engines to cover the vast interstellar distances, and they weren't cruise liners by any means. He was glad to be out of the cramped ship with its spartan furnishings and looked forward to touring the new embassy building that he was told had been built in his honor. He might be a glorified clerk back on Earth, but these aliens seemed to think he was of immense importance and high standing, he saw no reason to correct them. 
	He gripped the arm rests on his seat as turbulence began to rock the little craft, and he looked forward to the pilot's cockpit to glimpse the planet close up. As they descended through the atmosphere and the nose of the shuttle glowed orange, flames licking up the glass, the planet's features became more developed. Great lakes and snaking rivers broke up the deserts, ringed by bands of lush greenery. He couldn't make out any cities or spaceports, but Borealis was not very developed. They had only recently been introduced to superlight technology, and currently had only a small fleet made up mostly of ships they had purchased from other species. He had seen no space stations or elevators in orbit, the ships must have to make planetfall, which was extremely fuel inefficient. 
	The shuttle cut through cloud layers, emerging beneath an azure sky, the white glare of the primary star like sitting under a fluorescent lamp. The quality of the light had an odd tint to it, everything looked too white, or perhaps Sol made everything too yellow? The air resistance slowed the ship, and it glided on stubby wings, cruising towards its target at a more leisurely pace.
	“We're about fifteen minutes off, Ambassador. I'm supposed to give you this.”
	The pilot fumbled through a bag, then produced a small paperback booklet. Dennis unbuckled, getting up from his seat and moving towards the cockpit to retrieve it.
	“Just some basic info on dealing with the natives.”
	The cover was a cartoon of one of the aliens, tall with feline ears and tail, leaning down to shake hands with a little human. It was titled 'Borealis Tourism Guide'.
	Dennis thumbed through it, the title seemed odd to him, there had been no tourism to Borealis since contact was established and they had been inducted into the Coalition, only now was an embassy being established. Had the producers of the guide expected an interest in the planet that never manifested? Tourism was not a big industry on an interstellar level, due to the expense of traveling great distances, but the rich and powerful tended to travel when it was possible. 
	The first section was called 'Borealan culture and social conventions', that seemed like a good place to start.
	
	'Due to the hierarchical pack structure of society on Borealis, you are advised to keep in mind the following instructions:' 
	'Do not maintain eye contact with a Borealan, this may be misconstrued as a challenge.'
	'Do not joke with, tease, talk back, or otherwise provoke a Borealan, even in a manner that may seem friendly or affectionate to a human.'
	'Do not make unsolicited physical contact with a Borealan, such as tapping them to get their attention, bumping in to them by accident, or attempting to touch their ears or tail.'
	'Do not attempt to argue with or assert yourself over a Borealan. If there is a disagreement, bypass them by talking to a superior.'
	'Should a Borealan show aggression towards you, attempt to make yourself appear as weak and non-threatening as possible, then seek immediate medical attention for bites and/or lacerations.'
	
	He looked up to the pilot, his blood running cold.
	“Bites and lacerations!?”
	The pilot chuckled to himself.
	“Did you not research the planet you were going to be stationed on, Ambassador?”
	“Well, I glanced over the basics! I thought it would be better to get to know the locals and build a more personal relationship with them through being immersed in their culture.”
	The pilot steered the shuttle through a pocket of turbulence, and Dennis grabbed a handhold in the roof of the craft as it shook, then leveled out again.
	“Well then this is going to be a very enlightening visit for you, Sir.”
	“What does that mean? Why is it funny?”
	“You ever heard the nickname the marines give the Borealans?”
	“No...”
	“They call them 'Mad Cats', I've been told they fight like lions, and they're a pain in the ass to be around. They get sent to a special Navy facility for training before they're even allowed to be in a room alone with a human.” 
	Dennis swallowed hard, looking through the windshield at the arid desert racing below them, in the distance was a large band of greenery. He fiddled with his tie nervously.
	“I'm not trying to scare you, Ambassador, but did they not tell you this when you took the job?”
	“No...and I was the only one who applied...”
	The pilot whistled, his tone sympathetic.
	“Take a good read of that booklet then, and er...” 
	“What is it?”
	“Don't go anywhere on your own.”

	The ship glided into view of their destination, a gigantic lake, large enough to rival the great lakes of North America, its glistening blue surface reflecting the harsh light. Hundreds of miles of desert surrounded it, but in a wide band around the water source grew a plethora of exotic plants and trees. There was a whole forest, or maybe a jungle. Tall, straight trees that resembled firs, alarmingly high even at this distance, jutted up from the canopy, their spiny leaves spreading in a cone pattern. Dennis was used to seeing trees that resembled these in cold climates and they looked oddly out of place next to the desert sands. He couldn't make out much else as the greenery flew by them, the ship descending towards the water. 
	As they cleared the foliage, Dennis' eyes widened as the first Borealan city he had seen revealed itself below them. It was immediately clear to him that Borealans built out, not up. There were no structures more than than three or four stories tall, most buildings were long and squat, with impressive stone arches and domed roofs that brought to mind imagery of Arabian or maybe Roman architecture. 
	It was austere, but there was a unique artistry to it. 
	The city, small by human standards, was nestled between the band of green forest and the shore of the lake. The ground was paved with stone, marking the boundary between the city and the forest, he guessed it must have been cleared in the distant past, and it had been paved to prevent the trees from encroaching on the living space. With a start he realized the water sources he had seen from orbit might be the only habitable zones of the planet. Life clustered around them almost desperately, carving out what territory it could glean from the desert. 
	The pilot circled the craft around, giving Dennis time to take in the view.
	“This is the capital city, Elysia. Each water source is a territory, each territory is ruled by a tribe, each tribe is further subdivided into packs and family units. The Elysiedde family is currently the most powerful political entity on the planet, most of your dealings will be with them. They're currently the only territory that can afford spacecraft, and Admiral Elysiedde has been very eager to make alliances with Coalition planets. His own daughter is currently training new Borealan troops for the war effort on a UNN starbase.”
	“So these guys are a bit more...friendly?” Dennis asked, a twinge of apprehension in his voice.
	“They're about as friendly as a Borealan is ever going to get, yeah, but don't expect much.”
	“I don't suppose it's too late to ask for a ride home?” Dennis asked, half-joking.
	“Afraid not Ambassador, but in the future, please read the assignments you agree to more thoroughly.”

	The ship banked, flying towards the center of the squat city, buildings made of what looked like sandstone, in shades ranging from deep brown to off-white lined narrow streets, the ever prevalent decorative arches passing overhead. Every other building had a domed roof, even the smaller dwellings had one, wide and decorative, their curved surfaces patterned with indents and ribs. Before them an impressive structure loomed, only five or six stories tall, but it towered over the surrounding buildings. A great spire reached into the air, supported by stacked layers of massive decorative columns, like several Greek Parthenons stacked one on top of another. It was paler than the stone around it, almost pearl white, and it reflected the sunlight of the primary star like a beacon. There was construction happening beside it, a much smaller, square building with a domed roof. Blocks of stone and unrecognizable machinery blocked the street. 
	The shuttle circled the spire, behind it was a large, flat slab of rock, landing lights blinked at the edges. The piloted zoned in, setting the shuttle down on the improvised landing pad, the engines kicking up a torrent of dust and sand. The engines died down, and Dennis walked towards the exit ramp, apprehensive. 
	“Watch your step.” The pilot commented, and the ramp began to lower.
	Dennis recoiled, hit by a wall of sweltering, dry heat that seared his lungs. It was like opening an oven door, the hot wind washed over him like a blow dryer. He stepped forward, immediately beginning to sweat inside his two piece suit. As he walked off the ramp and outside of the artificial gravity range of the little shuttle, he heaved as if the wind had been knocked out of him, his knees bent and he doubled over, the dry air burning his throat.
	“Argh, what the hell...”
	“High gravity!” The pilot called out. “1.3Gs I believe.”
	“You couldn't warn me?” Dennis choked, it felt like someone had dropped a small horse onto his back.
	“You were gonna find out eventually. Have fun Ambassador, I'll be back to pick you up in six months.”
	“Six months!?”
	“Yeah, any damage to your joints after that will be permanent.”
	The engines of the shuttle flared, and Dennis hobbled off the landing pad to escape the gale. Taking stone steps down towards the spire, afraid he would fall in the high gravity.
	A large wooden door opened in the building, and a towering creature stepped out. She was about eight feet tall, with a head of shaggy orange hair, small furry ears on the top of her head that pivoted, and the flat brow of a cat. Her fingers ended in claws, and her legs had a jointed heel, with odd, paw-like feet. A long, furry tail swung behind her. She wore a revealing robe made of light, blue fabric that accentuated her impressive figure and showed off the patterned skin on her shoulders and thighs, he assumed because of the heat. She was heavily muscled compared to a human, probably due to the high gravity. She watched him with large, amber eyes, then called to him in rolling English, her accent oddly Russian to his ears.
	“Ambassador Carlisle! We have awaited your arrival most impatiently!”
	He was hunched over, raggedly breathing in the dry air, and he was sweating as if he had run a triathlon. He wanted to stand up straight and shake hands, make a good first impression, but it was impossible under these circumstances. 
	He stumbled down the last couple of steps, limping over to her, cursing himself for accepting this position, this was not a promotion, it was an exile! He had been the only one young and naive enough to think of adventure and prestige before his own neck. 
	It was a lesson learned far too late.
	“Ah! My apologies Ambassador, I, how do you say...”
	Her English was good, but not perfect, she seemed to have some odd grammatical quirks.
	“The gravity here, is too much for a human, yes? You will adapt in time.”
	She grasped him gently under the arm, alleviating some of the crushing weight, and guided him into the building. They descended a flight of stairs, slightly too big for his human legs, if this alien had not been there to support him he might have fallen badly.
	When they reached the bottom, they emerged from another door into the street, and turned towards the construction site.
	“I am sorry, I failed to introduce myself, I am called Xhe Fortaz, you may call me Xhe, I have been trained specially to assist you while you visit us.”
	Dennis nodded, not wanting to speak, large breads of sweat dripping down his pale face.
	“Do not worry, we will get you seated in a chair, it will help.”
	They walked past heavy stone blocks and large, rugged machinery of indecipherable purpose, entering the new building, its polished wooden door flanked by two large pillars. There was a long hall running down the center of the structure, the floor was made from shiny marble that squeaked under his shoes. Borealans seemed to have a love for stonework, but perhaps in this high gravity, they could only build low and strong. Even if the style was borne from a limitation, it was no less aesthetically pleasing. 
	“This is the embassy we have built for you, as is customary for your people, we hope that it will please you.”
	“I-It's very nice.” Dennis wheezed. His knees and ankles felt like they were going to give.
	Xhe steered him into a side room, past an ornamental door and into an open space with a wooden desk, everything was brand new and varnished to a fine sheen, the furniture must have been carved from local wood. She lowered him into a chair behind the elaborate desk. It was cushioned, and a little too high for him, the measurements must not have been perfect, but he relaxed into the seat, the pressure on his legs relieved.
	“Oh lord, thank you Miss Fortaz.” He gasped.
	“Please, call me Xhe.”
	“Of course, Xhe. You'll forgive my ignorance, I was not made aware of the...local conditions when I was assigned to Borealis. I was unprepared for such heat and high gravity.”
	She looked sympathetic.
	“I understand, I have trained with humans on your Pinwheel, under Miss Elysiedde.” 
	“Pinwheel?” Dennis asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.
	“A space station where Borealans and other aliens are sent to learn human customs, so that they might serve in the military, or in my case assist the Ambassador.”
	“Ah, yes, my shuttle pilot mentioned some such station.”
	The alien was oddly reverential, she said 'Ambassador' as if she were addressing royalty, not a politician. She had said that embassies were a custom of my people, implying that hers did not use them, perhaps the concept of an ambassador was new to them, and they assigned the position far more importance than it really deserved. No matter.
	“Xhe, may I bother you for a glass a water?”
	“A drink? Of course, please wait here.”
	She scurried out of the room, almost sprinting. He had never had his own secretary before, but he sensed he would get along with this one. 
	He looked around the room, or his office, as seemed to be its purpose. There were no paintings on the walls as one might find in a human designed office, but odd tapestries and curtains hung from the walls, made of fine fabrics, despite the lack of windows. In fact he had seen no windows on any of the buildings so far. 
	One especially large tapestry seemed to depict a battle scene, it was crude, and the perspective was poor, but he could recognize what was being shown. A large, muscled Borealan with a flowing mane commanded an army, assaulting a squat castle, whose denizens aimed at them with what looked like pipes, maybe muskets or rifles. The embroidery was intricate, fine craftsmanship despite the relatively crude art. 
	He examined the desk, it looked like mahogany, but was surely some native species, the deep brown, varnished sheen was inlaid with carved heads. They looked like cats, not Borealans, something else. Perhaps some local animal. Because there were no windows, the light came from a bulb on the ceiling, putting out a less harsh, more yellow light than their sun. The cats had done their research. 
	If only they had installed artificial gravity generators, even if it was just in one room. His legs ached and his back was beginning to get sore. He believed them when they told him he would adapt to the new gravity, but how long would that take? 
	His feet dangled from the chair, he felt like a child sitting at a dinner table, fortunately the front of the desk had a panel, and people on the other side would not be able to see that. The floor was carpeted with a deep, royal red. Overall the room looked like the office of a tasteless statesman, or a politician who fancied himself a big player, Dennis loved it.
	After a moment Xhe returned with a wooden mug, comparable in size to a thermos. She placed it on the table, waiting eagerly, and Dennis hefted it awkwardly, taking a tentative sip. 
	“Thank you Xhe, that hits the spot.” He felt the rasping in his scoured throat receding.
	“You've done an excellent job on the embassy, my compliments to the architects.”
	Xhe beamed, her tail flicking backwards and forwards, almost like a dog wagging, Dennis remarked, as he took another draw from the mug.
	“I'm glad it pleases you, Ambassador. We attempted to imitate human styles.”
	“This tapestry.” He said, gesturing to the larger battle scene that dominated one wall. “What does it depict?” Xhe turned to examine it.
	“That is the battle of Elysia, it depicts the ancestor of Patriarch Elysiedde capturing this territory  after laying siege to its citadel, shortly after he would found the capital city.”
	“A Patriarch is your leader then? Like a King or a President?”
	“Yes, more like a King, the title is usually hereditary, it can be taken by force but the breeding of great families is impeccable and that rarely happens.”
	Eugenics, then? Interesting, this species had no moral qualms about the practice. 
	“Does it have to be a male? Have you had any female leaders?”
	“No, it can be a Matriarch, there is less...” Xhe struggle with a word. “Dimorf...”
	“Sexual dimorphism?” Dennis offered.
	“Yes, there is less sexual dimorphism among Borealans than among humans.”
	Dennis had imagined male Borelans to be even larger and more imposing, but that might not be the case, he was somewhat relieved. It was hard enough craning his neck to speak with this female, as oddly attractive as she was.
	“Will I be introduced to the current Patriarch?”
	“Oh, yes, very soon in fact. He is aware of the difficulties humans experience in the early stages of their visit, and will be visiting you here. An honor I am sure you can appreciate.”
	Dennis soured, he would not make a good impression on the leader of this planet in his current state. He would have preferred to have a straight back and a firm handshake when introducing himself, rather than being slumped in a chair with his face coated in sweat. Perhaps such an early visit was a strategic attempt to make the Patriarch's presence more overpowering? Had the political maneuvering already begun? 
	“Excellent.” He replied, putting on his best smile. He had been told that Borealans were nightmarish and ill tempered, but Xhe was lovely, and helpful. He still had the booklet with him, he should examine it more closely and read the rest of its entries in private. 
	“Do you know if my luggage has arrived Xhe? I sent it ahead of me.”
	“Yes, we received several containers, they have been stored in your bedroom as requested.”
	“Perfect, thank you.”
	He wasn't sure what to do now. He didn't feel like unpacking, he just wanted to sit down, he felt like a giant boulder was compressing his chest. Perhaps he should make small talk, get to know his new aide.
	“So, Xhe, tell me about yourself, how did you learn English?”
 	She looked flustered. Had he overstepped some social boundary, or was it just uncommon to show interest in the lives of employees here? She answered anyway.
	“Well, all soldiers and diplomats learn your language, we have a school in Elysia that teaches it, and to learn human culture and social conventions we must travel to the Pinwheel and undergo integration training.”
	“I keep hearing about this station, what does this integration training consist of?”
	“Well, human and Borealan society is very different, interacting with humans can be...trying for us. We must undergo intensive training and learn to suppress our pack instincts in order to live and work alongside humans.”
	“It may surprise you, but I didn't really know much about your people or your culture before coming here. I intended to learn through immersion, but I did come across some information that...worried me.” 
	Xhe was visibly surprised, and her flat brow furrowed. 
	“Oh, I assumed you would have completed immersion training. Your superiors did not order such schooling?”
	“No, you're the first Borealan I've met.”
	Xhe looked concerned, and touched her clawed fingers to her chin pensively.
	“That complicates things, they sent you here with no training, and no knowledge of our society?”
	Dennis was starting to get very worried.
	“No, is that a problem?”
	“I will have to teach you, please do not leave this building without me, Ambassador.”
	Lord, what had he gotten himself into here? He winced his back was starting to hurt in this chair, the gravity was intolerable.
	“Xhe, I assume there's a bed in this bedroom you mentioned?”
	“Yes.”
	“Could you help me up? I'd like very much to lie down for a while.”
	She moved behind the desk and lifted him under the arm, the pressure was put back on his legs, and he hobbled out of the office. There was no second floor in the building, the bedroom was at the end of the marble hallway, behind another wooden door. 
	She opened it into another ornately decorated, stately room. The Borealans it seemed had spared no expense, and their attempts to impress him had succeeded with flying colors. The question he kept asking himself was, just what on Earth (or Borealis, in this case) did the Borealans think an Ambassador was?
	The bed was gigantic, the carved wooden headboard must have weighed half a ton. Upon it were inscribed more battle scenes, and what looked like a hunting party of Borealans chasing down some large animal in the jungle. 	
	Xhe lifted him onto the mattress, and he sank into the soft material, his pain relieved.
	“How long do I have until the Patriarch arrives, Xhe?”
	“One moment...”
	She retrieved an electronic device, and tapped it.
	“In your time, three quarter hours.”
	“Thank you.” He relaxed, sighing as his muscles and joints were alleviated of their stress. 
	
	Xhe closed the door on him, intending to give him some privacy. He may request more water later, and she would bring it to him. It was odd being subservient to such a small, frail creature. He was barely able to survive on Borealis itself, let alone challenge one of her people. It gave her a creeping sensation of wrongness, but this was what she had trained for. Months on the Pinwheel with the Patriarch's vaunted daughter, now a Matriarch in her own right, albeit ruling over the microcosm of the station. 
	She was expected to succeed her father in time, and she was the foremost expert on humans. Along with her human companion, she had taught Xhe what was expected of a “secretary”, one who serves the Ambassador. Xhe would never have been selected for such a task were it not for her extraordinary temperament, but even with that advantage it had taken her months to meet the standards Raz Elysiedde had set for her. 
	She could be in the company of humans indefinitely now, and what few impulses to assert herself over them still rose to the surface, she could control. She had even learned to defer to them, to take commands and accept their leadership. Were an inferior of her own kind to make such outrageous challenges to her status, she would claw them viciously, and teach them their place. But she had come to learn the way of these humans, their bizarre, contradictory social system and their obtuse culture. 
	Besides, this Carlisle might be physically inferior, but his status was great, he represented all of humanity, the UNN, and their colonies. He must be an individual of great and noble exploits to have earned such an honor. She should respect him, surely after his period of adjustment to the planet's crushing gravity, his character would shine through. 

	Dennis splashed water on his face from a tall marble basin in his en suite bathroom. He looked in the mirror, straightening his tie and rubbing his sleeve over his UNN badge. The Patriarch, or as the UNN called him, 'Admiral Elysiedde' would be arriving soon. He must look his best, and make a good impression. The gravity still tugged at him, threatening to pull him to ground and crush his joints into bone dust, but he would have to endure it as best he could. His legs felt as if he had climbed a mountain with a rucksack full of breeze blocks. 
	Xhe knocked on his door, and he hesitated before answering, marveling at her knowledge of human social conventions. 
	“Is it time, Xhe?”
	“Ambassador, my lord Patriarch Elysiedde will see you now.”
	Dennis composed himself, and putting on his best diplomatic smile, strode confidently into the hall.
	He was confronted with nine feet of male Borealan. He was almost as wide as a human was tall, massive shoulders supported a head the size of a lion's, with a flowing mane of orange hair to match. He wore an ornate robe made of a fine blue fabric that shimmered in the light, embroidered like a tapestry with golden figures. Hunters, warriors and unidentifiable beasts battled eachother in intricately woven scenes, and a flowing cape trailed on the ground behind him, made from the soft, downy hide of some animal, layered fur shining in pearlescent shades of blue, green and brown.
	His massive claws were tipped with gilded thimbles, and his long tail swayed, protruding from a split down the middle of his long cape. Upon his breast were innumerable badges and medals, what honors and achievements they might boast were unknown to Dennis. 
	He tried to contain his awe, and hoped that it did not show on his face.
	The Borealan spoke, his rumbling voice reverberating in the enclosed space, making Dennis' bones shake. His English was very good, with the same hint of Russian that Xhe exhibited. 
	“Ambassador Carlisle, we meet at last. I hope you will excuse the unfinished state of your embassy.”
	Dennis adjusted his tie, fidgeting, and replied, doing his best to keep his voice from wavering.
	“Not at all, Patriarch, the embassy you have built is grand and tastefully decorated. I find myself  impressed by your knowledge of human culture, and the subtle Borealan touches you elected to include.” 
	Oh God, had he addressed him correctly? Should he call him Patriarch or was it Admiral, or maybe Lord? Should he dumb down his grammar so that the alien might better understand him, or would that be seen as an insult to his intelligence?
	“Yes, I displayed some tapestries from my own private collection, I am pleased that you can appreciate them. How are you finding our quaint little planet, Ambassador? Do her claws still grip you?”
	He had to think for a moment, the Patriarch must mean the gravity.
	“Yes, she has quite a grip! But in time I believe I will adapt, and be able to fulfill all of my diplomatic duties.”
	Elysiedde liked Dennis' response, he laughed, the low baritone echoing through the hall.
	“Good, good. I am aware of the fragility of human visitors, you should be on your feet, touring the capital within a few rotations. I will not take up too much of your time, it is better that you rest for now, but when you have recovered I expect you to attend one of my banquets. I would like to show off my alien guest to the leaders of the other territories.”
	“Of course, Patriarch, it was an honor to meet you. I observed the impressive architecture of your city on the way down, I'm eager to explore it and meet the people.”
	Elysiedde nodded, then turned to leave, his shining cloak flowing behind him. He strode down the marble hall towards the entrance, his claws clicking on the hard surface. When he reached the large, wooden door he turned around again.
	“Oh, and Ambassador, Xhe is not only your aide, but a member of your pack now, she will obey any command you give her without hesitation. Please don't be hesitant to make any and all use of her during your stay, she has been specially trained for this task.”
	He left, and Dennis looked to Xhe, she had been almost cowering in a corner during the Patriarch's visit, was she afraid of him, or was this one of their alien social rituals?
	“What did he mean by that, Xhe?”
	She looked flustered, a little angry.
	“How much do you know about Borealan social structures, Ambassador?”
	“Not a lot, I know you live in packs.”
	“Borealans don't really have friends the way humans do, we form packs, each pack has anywhere between one and a dozen members. The leader of the pack is the one who physically overcomes the others, usually through violence. They are the Alpha of that pack, they command unwavering loyalty and deference from the others. During my training I learned how to suppress the instincts that govern such behavior, in order to work alongside and take instructions from a human, who would under normal circumstances be my inferior.”
	Dennis swallowed, she had two feet over him, and claws like knives. If she had wanted to overpower him through violence, the fight would not be drawn out.
	“My position as your secretary puts me in a subservient position to you, in Borealan culture, this makes you my Alpha. I must obey any order given.”
	“Xhe, you know I'm not a Borealan. Humans employ eachother and form power structures unrelated to their social status all the time, you don't have to be my slave in order to work for me.”
	She raised a hand, gesturing for him to stop.
	“Trust me, it is better this way. The training I underwent was intensive. I suggest you pay it no mind, and focus on your duties. I will work around you.”
	“I'm not going to ask you to do anything a human secretary wouldn't do.”
	She nodded, was she a little relieved? The Patriarch's comment had been strange, but no matter, he was here to do a job. Better to make the best of the situation. 
	“Sounds like I have some free time before my diplomatic duties begin, I guess I'll get unpacked!”
	He returned to his room on shaky legs, and Xhe trailed behind him.

	Dennis unpacked his clothes, toiletries and a few personal items, among them a slab of Kobe beef, given to him by the Ambassador to Japan. It was contained within a stasis unit to preserve it, a sizable square box with transparent windows and a blob of nondescript machinery on one end that contained the technology required to slow time in the contained space. It might be the most expensive gift ever delivered, but it would keep the meat fresh, and it was the best Earth could produce. 
	It would make an excellent gift for the Patriarch, Dennis would present it to him at one of the banquets he had mentioned. 
	“What do you think, Xhe?” He asked, hefting the container so she could see inside, her eyes widened, lingering on the marbled meat.
	“What is it?”
	“This is Kobe, the most expensive luxury meat Earth produces. The livestock are fed a special diet and massaged to improve the flavor. I'm going to give it to the Patriarch as a gift, do you think he'll like it?”
	She nodded enthusiastically. 
	“You might not know a lot about my people, Ambassador, but whoever gave you that gift certainly did their research.”
	Satisfied, he set it down and got back to work.
	Among the possessions that been shipped ahead was a large trunk, doubly heavy in this intolerable gravity. He tasked Xhe with dragging it to the center of the room. Pushing a button on the side made it open like the petals of a flower, revealing a sophisticated communications and computing station. It would allow him to do any work that required a computer, and to communicate with the UN and UNN High Command. The receiver was powerful enough to send and receive data to orbiting satellites. 
	Xhe seemed fascinated by the device, walking around it and examining the powerful transmitters. He turned it on, its self-contained power source whirring to life. The monitors flared, displaying data on the status of the computer and its peripherals. 
	“It's a computer.” He said, showing her the keyboard and the trackball mouse. 
	She rolled the trackball experimentally.
	“We have computers, of course, but this is advanced compared to ours. No doubt the Patriarch will want one if he sees it...”
	“I had heard he enjoys buying foreign technology, especially ships.” Said Dennis, as he started a diagnostic scan, had to make sure no components had been damaged during transport.
	“Yes, Elysia is the only territory that can afford to buy starships right now, my lord Patriarch has made it a matter of inter-territorial grandstanding.”
	“You don't approve?”
	Xhe lowered her head, as if she had done something wrong. The Patriarch was not in earshot, did Borealan subservience to those of higher social status run so deep?
	“It is not my place to question the Patriarch, but I do wonder if the money could not be better spent elsewhere. Our pacts with the Coalition guarantee the protection of the planet from space, in exchange for our best warriors serving on the front. They are really just happy to be occupied. There has not been war on Borealis for a generation, the Elysiedde family line has dominated, and Elysia is the most powerful territory. She commands respect above all others.”
	“So even your international politics reflect the pack structure?”
	“They do, yes. There was a great war which Elysia won, under the leadership of Tark Elysiedde, the first Patriarch of Elysia. He led his tribe in the conquest of this territory and defeated three other tribes in the process. One was exiled into the desert, the others were inducted. The scene of the final battle is depicted on the tapestry in your office, which dates from that period.” 
	Incredible, he had the equivalent of the Bayeux Tapestry on his office wall. That explained the relative crudeness of the art. Xhe continued.
	“The ships he bought serve no purpose, they are used only for boasting, to demonstrate the wealth and modernity of Elysia to the other territories, although they pose her no threat.” 
	Dennis nodded, he had read about many dictators of Earth's past who had done similar things, Saddam Hussein, Kim Jong Il, Idi Amin. That was not to say that the Patriarch was a dictator, but it was a worrying correlation. Could such an underdeveloped planet even afford to fuel the ships, or have the training to staff them? He doubted it.
	The computer had finished its diagnostic, all systems operable, the only anomaly was a higher than optimal system temperature, but that couldn't be helped.
	“I think I will take the Patriarch's advice.” Dennis said.
	“You are dismissed Xhe, please return tomorrow morning at your earliest convenience. I'm going to rest for a while.”
	“I live in the embassy now, I have my own room down the hall.”
	“Oh, fair enough, I'll see you tomorrow then?”
	She nodded, and left the room, closing the door behind her. It was unusual, on Earth being a secretary was just a job like any other, but it seemed Xhe had been groomed for the role, and undergone extensive training. It had become her life, and he didn't know how he felt about that.
	
	The next day was uneventful, Dennis rested, attempted to train himself by walking up and down the marble hall under the crushing gravity, and communicated with his superiors via the console, telling them of his progress and the difficulties he had encountered. When he questioned their forthcoming in telling him about the details of the assignment, they simply didn't respond.
	He examined the Borealis Tourist Guide, trying to familiarize himself with the culture and customs as best as he was able. He felt uncomfortable asking Xhe about it, and was unable to retrieve data from the console due to the great distance between UNN space and Borealis. Although the satellites were capable of FTL communication, the size of the packets they could send and receive was limited to small communiques. The little booklet the pilot had given him was the best source of information available to him. 
	It had sections on Borealan culture, society, history, the environment, and even local food culture. 
	After a trying jog up and down the hall, he leafed through the section experimentally. There was a crude cartoon of a Borealan shoving a T-bone steak into its mouth.
	There was a lot of information compared to some of the other sections. It seemed the Borealans were very enthusiastic about their culinary arts and enjoyed sharing them, perhaps a throwback to their pack animal ancestors eating as a group.
	
	'Borealans have a rich food culture that is a significant component of their social experience. Their diet consists of varied meats, fish, grains and gourds. They are sensitive to the oils and fats in cooked meats, preferring cooking methods that enhance these flavors, and texture is of great concern when preparing meals. They have almost no perception of sweet flavors, and so humans visitors with a sweet tooth may wish to bring condiments and sauces with them when dining. This will not be seen as an insult to the chef, as many Borealans commonly carry small spray bottles containing their preferred oil, which may be processed from meat, fish or vegetables depending on the tastes of the individual. The rendering of fats is an important aspect of Borealan cooking, producing lard or schmalz for use in soups and stews.
	Much care is taken when feeding livestock to ensure that the fat of the animal retains a certain flavor, and meats from the same species may not always have a similar taste, due to the diet of the animal before slaughter. Many of these subtle flavors would not be perceptible to a human, but it is a very important aspect of Borealan dining and should be taken into account. The excess skin of many animals is fried and served as an entrée or a snack.'

	Interesting, the text was giving him ideas of how his gift should be cooked, Xhe had been right, the Japanese Ambassador had done his research, the Patriarch would be pleased. He continued to read.

	'Borealan civilization is based around the great lakes and rivers of Borealis, which are home to rich aquatic life. Fish and other seafoods are a staple of the Borealan diet. Being strong swimmers and enjoying bathing as a recreational activity, bare handed fishing is a popular competitive sport. Locals will compete to see who can catch the largest, or the greatest quantity of fish with their hooked claws. Commercial fisherman use conventional nets and trawlers.
	Borealans prefer oily fish similar to mackerel which are commonly smoked, and the lower social classes eat many species of bottom feeding crustaceans analogous to lobsters and crabs, which are considered to be at best rustic, and at worse unsanitary.'

	'The cultivation of a grain not unlike the corn plant found in South America led Borealans to the discovery of agriculture, animal husbandry, and later civilization. It is a source of fiber, and grows easily in the jungles that ring the water sources. It is prepared in a wide variety of ways, from cereals to complimentary dishes.'

	Dennis wondered absent-mindedly what a Borealan cereal might taste like, did they serve it with milk? They were cats, after all. Captain Crunch took on a whole new meaning in a 1.3G environment. 

	'Borealans also enjoy gourds, more for their texture than their flavor, and cultivate parasitic vines that grow on trees and produce fruit not unlike the pumpkin. These are often eaten raw, or cooked into pies.'

	Dennis lay the booklet down on a bedside table, and decided he would order his first Borealan meal. He had not eaten since arriving on the planet, and he had brought no food with him besides the Kobe in the stasis container. It seemed that anything a Borealan could eat, a human could eat too. He called for Xhe, and she arrived quickly, standing obediently at the edge of the bed.
	“Xhe, I would like some food.”
	“Of course Ambassador, I am familiar with many human dishes that I can-”
	“No, no, I want to try a local dish.”
	Dennis retrieved the booklet and leafed through to the culinary section.
	“I would like some smoked fish, I'm not sure what kind you have, but use your best judgment.”
	“Very well, Ambassador.”

	After some time Xhe brought him a huge dish, a Borealan sized dinner plate that was comically large, on it were two whole fish. They were about the size of trout, brown and crispy with odd armor plating along the dorsal area and too many fins. They had the same streamlined appearance as an Earth fish, convergent evolution, there must be an optimal shape for swimming. He looked to Xhe expectantly, waiting for cutlery, but none came.
	“Borealans use their claws to eat.” She explained. 
	Dennis picked a fish up gingerly, it was heavy, and took a bite. It tasted good, the scales were fine and he stayed away from the armor plating, focusing his attention on the soft underbelly. It was well cooked, smoked over a wood fire he surmised from the flavor. 
	“It's good!” He mumbled, he would have liked a knife and a fork, his fingers were greasy and the fine scales were sticking to his mouth, but the dish was a success. He afforded himself a moment of pride for having tried something new, he was eating an alien! Probably the first human to ever to eat this particular species.
	Xhe observed him as he ate clumsily, he had noticed that she always tried to keep a neutral expression, but now she seemed amused. He would have to find a solution to this problem before he was invited to one of the Patriarch's banquets. 

	The next few days passed quickly, every day he sampled new Borealan dishes, meats, seafoods and grains as described in his guide, leaving their preparation at the discretion of his aide. He trained, doing his best to adapt to the harsh gravity, every jog up and down the marble hall became easier than the last. After five days he was mobile, and growing impatient with his sedentary life in the embassy. He wanted to see the city, experience the culture as he had intended, and no aggressive aliens or stifling heat would stop him from doing that.
	“Xhe, I would like to tour the city.” 
	“Are you able to walk so far?” Xhe asked hesitantly, eyeing him as he stood in the hall.
	“Well enough, yes. I'm dying of boredom, I need to get outside and do something.”
	She looked distressed, it was obvious that she wanted to deny his request, but because of the strange Borealan social caste system she was unable, and that suited him just fine.
	“I...will make the necessary arrangements. But you must understand, Ambassador, the Borealans that are allowed to interact with humans have undergone extensive training and conditioning. Those in the city have not, they are, by human standards, wild. They have never interacted with a human, most have never seen an alien, humans are small and comparatively weak and so you will be treated as an inferior. If you do not know how to make yourself appear non threatening and submissive, you may expose yourself to violence.” 
	He felt a tremor of fear in his belly, she was deadly serious, but he put on a strong face. He had not traveled 75 light years in a cramped jump freighter to cower inside an embassy when there was a whole alien city out there to explore.
	“So teach me! Give me the Borealan crash course.”
	She looked uncomfortable, and shifted her weight from foot to foot, her long, furry tail flicking back and forth restlessly.
	“That may not be a good idea.”
	“If you aren't qualified to teach me, Xhe, then who is?”
	 She considered for a moment, then nodded.
	“Very well, Ambassador. As you wish.”
	
	Xhe did her best to teach the human, but she knew that it would not be enough. He had no idea of the massive cultural gulf that separated their species, and the only way he would truly understand would be to learn the hard way? Perhaps in this case it was better to just let him trip and fall, so that he might pick himself up.
	He understood the basics, not to make prolonged eye contact, to avoid physical interactions, don't argue, don't talk back, don't joke or 'pal around' as the humans liked to call it. Almost every human social interaction was deeply provocative to a Borealan, and although he seemed to understand on a superficial level, she was certain he would slip up. It was their nature after all, she could not undo a lifetime of learned behavior in an afternoon. 
	She taught him how to be submissive, how to stay low and keep his eyes down, how to respond should someone address him, and how to avoid confrontations and back out of arguments. Seeing the small, frail creature take on his natural role nagged at her, tickled the back of her mind. The old instincts threatened to rise and undo her conditioning, he was like a ripe fruit, begging to be picked from the branch. She longed to assert herself over him, to take her rightful place as his Alpha, but she suppressed the desires, using the techniques Miss Elysiedde had taught her. Though unnatural, though infuriating, the Ambassador was her Alpha by special appointment, and she might be one of a handful of Borealans on the planet who could tolerate such an arrangement. This was a service to her Lord Patriarch, and she would see it through.

CHAPTER 2: LOCAL FLAVOR

	Dennis left the embassy, breathing in a lungful of hot, dry air. The white sun blazed above him, bleaching the sandstone buildings and casting dark shadows. He could tolerate the heat, and the gravity, though he acted a lot more brazen than he really felt. 
	“Stay close to me, do not leave my sight.” Said Xhe, and he trotted next to her, outpacing him with her slow strides. There weren't any pedestrians in this part of the city, the Patriarch's spire protruded from the skyline, a white glare penetrating the more yellow and brown landscape. 
	These squat stone buildings were made to last, that much was obvious. There were fine details and engravings on the pillars and blocks that held them up, murals and reliefs carved into the stone, who could guess how long ago. These dwellings were the work of artisans, people who took great pride in their work and expected it to be on display for a long time. He realized that all of the arches that decorated the streets, and the domed roofs of the houses were self-supporting, made from interlocking blocks that exploited the very gravity trying to tear them down, in order to stay upright. It was a deceptively simple, yet elegant solution. 
	They continued the down the street, Dennis didn't know where Xhe was leading him, hopefully somewhere interesting. The sandstone arches passed over his head, and the windowless buildings lined the streets, which were paved with stone slabs and in some places, cobbles. The jungle would not reclaim this land through such thick rock, weeds could not prevail in cracks and creepers would find no purchase here. Dennis had no sense of time, or of scale, how old was the city? Was he looking at modern building techniques, or those of the distant past? Had these stone slabs been placed here to ward off the encroaching jungle a hundred years ago, or a thousand? He wanted to ask Xhe, but their time scales did not seem to translate well, and elected to follow her in silence rather than bother her with calculations. 
	She seemed tense, was she embarrassed to be seen in his company? Perhaps, Borealan society was strictly regimented, but he got the impression she was worried for his safety more than anything. It didn't bother him, no society could exist in the way everyone wanted to imply, violence could not be the result of every minor confrontation or disagreement. The whole social system would collapse. He would heed her dire warnings, but suspected that much of it was exaggeration. Things were never as bad as they seemed.
	
	The pair walked for a while, it seemed as if the city was deserted, he didn't see a single Borealan. Just when his feet were starting to hurt, they crossed into a larger street lined with colorful signs and stalls. A market? Some kind of bazaar? 
	Towering Borealans crowded the street, of all shapes and colors. None were below seven feet, they wore robes and clothing in all manner of styles, a rainbow of finely woven cloth and patterned, flowing garments. They had varying skin tones, from a pale white matching his own, usually punctuated by orange tiger stripes that he might have thought were tattoos had he not known better, to a dark tan with cream colored leopard spots that patterned the shoulders, arms and thighs. Their hair came in diverse patterns and colors, oranges, silvers, golds and blacks. They weaved around him, some pausing to stare intently at the odd little alien. It was overstimulating after having been couped up in the embassy for the better part of a week. 
	Xhe steered him through the crowd, a firm hand gripping his shoulder. He felt like a child lost in a mall. These aliens were not only tall, but impressively muscled, a combination of their high protein, mostly meat diet and the crippling gravity no doubt. He could feel his own body changing gradually, his muscle mass increasing under the stress of having to carry around an extra thirty percent of his body weight. It was more effective than any gym membership he had ever paid for. 
	He knew not to stare, it could be taken as a challenge that must be met with violence by the offended party, but he couldn't take his eyes off them, it was a kaleidoscope of colors and patterns. An eight footer walked past him, pausing to glance down with emerald green eyes. Her skin was a light brown, softly patterned on the shoulders and arms with spots, like a cheetah. She had a mane of black hair that fell down her back, the same markings that were on her skin decorated the thick strands. She wore a floaty, green sari in an almost Indian style, the delicate garment was wrapped around her body and fastened with an ornate belt around the waist. 
	Clearly clothing was as much, if not moreso a means of self expression on Borealis than it was on Earth, no two Borealans were alike, he could have sat and watched them all day. He felt drab in his black suit, to think that he had considered his shiny, red necktie a daring fashion statement. 
	Another Borealan paused to meet his gaze, this one was male, about the same height. Light skin with golden hair, he wore blue baggy pants made from a breezy material, perhaps something analogous to cotton, and his chest was bare, exposing dark stripes that extended down to his belly, save for a decorative red sash with golden embroidery that hung across his shoulder.
	Xhe hurried Dennis along, increasing the pace.
	“Do not stare, I told you this!”
	“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, they're just so...colorful!”
	She steered him past vendors and stalls, selling slabs of meat hanging from hooks, colorful items of clothing, decorative jewelry and beads, and skewered fish, ranging from the size of a trout, to something that looked like a shark in the process of being cut into sections with a machete. 
	Dennis wanted to see everything, to peruse every stall and examine every alien artifact, but Xhe's only concern was getting him off the street. They turned into a building marked with an illegible sign, it was dingy inside, and it smelled strange. There was a haze in the air, like smoke, and a handful of aliens sat around a table. One raised its head to look at him, then nudged another, and soon he was the focal point of the whole room.
	“What kind of place is this?” He whispered to Xhe.
	“A tavern, there won't be many people here at this time of day, better to get you inside. I told you not to stare at people, did you not understand?”
	“I'm sorry, there was so much to see!”
	He heard a chair scrape on the wooden floor, and one of the Borealans who had been sitting at the table got up and walked over to them. It was a female, slightly larger than Xhe. Some kind of pipe protruded from her mouth, which trailed grey smoke behind her. 
	She stood a short distance away, taking the pipe in her hand.
	“A human, on Borealis?”
	She spoke English? Dennis noticed that she was wearing some kind of form-fitting jumpsuit, different from the decorative clothing of the Borealans he had seen in the market. It was Coalition blue.
	“Remember what I taught you, Dennis.” Xhe whispered ominously.
	The stranger cackled heartily, taking a draw from her long pipe and blowing a cloud of smoke. It smelled like tobacco.
	“Don't worry, caretaker of the human, I'm Coalition.” She tapped her clawed fingers on a metal badge on her breast.
	Xhe exhaled, and stood a little straighter, relieved, but still on guard. 
	“Pinwheel?”
	The stranger nodded, and Xhe turned to Dennis.
	“It should be safe.”
	The stranger beckoned to Dennis.
	“Join us, human. I'm curious to know what you're doing here, of all places.”
	Dennis perked up, this was what he had wanted, to interact with the locals, to learn their culture and customs so that he might better serve as the ambassador. It was his job to understand the aliens, to work alongside them. 
	He trotted over to the table, where four other Borealans smoked or nursed large, wooden mugs containing an unidentified liquid. It's a goddamn bar, he thought to himself, an alien bar. The stranger gestured to a stool, far too large for him, but he climbed up anyway, his feet dangling like a toddler in a highchair. The others eyed him curiously, and the larger stranger returned to her seat, puffing acrid smoke and examining him. She was laid back and confident, clearly the Alpha of this small group.
	“My name is Chaka, I'm a Lieutenant Colonel with the Coalition, I'm on shore leave for a few months while my ship, the UNN Stalwart is in dry dock.” She took a long draw of her pipe and blew a cloud of smoke in Dennis' direction, he did his best to suppress a cough. Xhe hovered nearby, watching them carefully.
	“So tell me, what is a human doing on Borealis? In this tavern of all places?”
	“My name is Carlisle, I'm the newly appointed ambassador to Borealis.”
	“Ambassador!” Chaka crooned, a wry smile on her lips. “And what does that job entail?”
	“I represent Earth and her colonies in political matters concerning Borealis.”
	“Impressive, that's an important job. So what are you doing in this tavern?”
	“I wanted to see the city! I've been cooped up the in the embassy for a week, adapting to the gravity, and now I want to learn about your people and culture, so I can better perform my duties.”
	The other aliens sitting around the table had not spoken, he suspected because Chaka was clearly the Alpha, and based on what he knew about Borealan packs, to speak out of turn could be taken the wrong way. Not that it mattered, this Chaka seemed to do enough talking for all of them, and besides, they might not even speak English. He had to remember that he was on foreign soil, the vast majority of people he encountered would not be able to understand him. He would have to rely on Xhe to be his interpreter in most cases. Meeting a Coalition soldier by chance was certainly fortuitous. 
	Chaka eyed him, her yellow pupils reflecting what little light was available in the dingy, smoke-filled room. She had leopard patterns in her bushy, auburn hair. He assumed the patterning extended to her skin as it had on the other Borealans he had seen so far, but it was obscured beneath her suit, unusually modest compared to the local fashions. 
	“I have just the cultural experience for you, Ambassador.” She crooned, getting up from her seat and walking across the room to another table, upon which were lines of containers and bottles. After a moment she selected one, a tall, clear bottle containing a pink liquid, and brought it back to their table. She slammed it down, and unsealed it, pouring a cloudy concoction into a wooden mug.
	She slid it across the table towards him, and he hefted the large cup, sniffing the contents experimentally. Xhe looked concerned, but did not rush to stop him, Chaka's cohorts watched him with baited breath.
	“What is it?” He asked.
	“This is a Borealan delicacy, roughly translated it is called 'raises the hair'. It is a traditional spirit made from fermented berries and milk.” 
	“Doesn't sound like anything I couldn't stomach.”
	The Borealans around the tabled nudged eachother and watched expectantly.
	Dennis raised the mug to his lips and took a taste, then a long draw. He lowered the cup, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.
	“Tastes like strawberry milk!”
	Chaka gaped, then slammed her fists on the table, making his mug jump. 
	“Not so much as a cough!” 
	“Was that supposed to be strong?” Dennis scoffed. “I've had ciders with more of a kick than that.”
	She poured him another cup, and filled the mug of an adjacent Borealan with the pink spirit. This one looked reluctant, but complied, taking a drink, then lowered the cup, sputtering and hacking.
	Chaka laughed, slamming the table again with her clenched fist. 
	“You see? That was the reaction I expected! Don't tell me you little monkeys can drink a Borealan under the table.”
	“Is that a challenge?” He demanded brazenly. Chaka seemed taken aback, but then her lips curled into a smile and she picked up her wooden mug in her clawed hand.
	“Yes, yes it is.” She lifted the mug to her lips and took a long draw. Her brow furrowed as she held it, then she swallowed heavily, hissing like an angry cat. Her cheeks began to redden immediately, and she poured another round. The other aliens looked on in silence, either smoking or sipping their own, more mild beverages. 
	“What are you waiting for, Ambassador?” Chaka gestured to his mug. “It would be rude to issue a challenge, then back down.” She sucked her pipe, then blew smoke in his direction. He waved away the cloud, picking up his mug again. Xhe had taken a seat a short distance away on some kind of padded couch that protruded from the wall and was watching him. There didn't seem to be a bartender, did Chaka own this hole in the wall, or were Borealans trusted to take only their share, then leave appropriate compensation? Perhaps service members had special privileges in this culture so concerned with status and strength? Very strange. 
	Dennis drank deeply, the liquid was smooth and milky. The first sweet tasting product he had come across so far. He suspected that it was a side effect of the berries used primarily for their alcohol content, but he liked it. If this was supposed to be a strong spirit, Borealans had a very low tolerance for alcohol, a good vodka would probably poison them. Out-drinking this warrior might earn him some sorely needed street cred.
	He finished off his mug and pushed it over to Chaka, and she refilled it, laughing.

	Xhe was becoming concerned, like all humans the Ambassador thought he was being friendly, when from the perspective of a Borealan he was being provocative. This warrior had undergone training on the Pinwheel, so she would have a modicum of tolerance for human behavior, but she was becoming rapidly drunk after he had foolishly challenged her to a drinking contest infront of her pack. She would drink until she dropped, or risk losing face. As his handler, Xhe wanted to call it off, but she would let it go on a little longer, the Ambassador must be allowed to make mistakes or he wouldn't learn anything. She would pull rank if she had to, she was here on special appointment, in direct service to the Patriarch, no Borealan would question her authority. But for now, let him have his fun. Chaka's body language was becoming more and more suggestive, and knowing that she would lose the drinking contest she would certainly try to gain the upper hand through other means. Xhe would have to be vigilant. 

	Dennis was becoming tipsy, but his opponent was drunk. Her face practically glowed red and her eyelids drooped. She took another swig of pink liquid, which they had decided should be called 'hair raiser' between them. She hiccuped, a comical sound coming from such a fearsome creature. 
	She glared at her pack, looking back and forth, then snarled something in the course Borealan dialect. Reluctantly, they slid their stools out and got up, filing out of the tavern, past the ever patient Xhe, and into the street. The heavy wooden door clicked shut behind them.
	“Packs are so boring...” Chaka slurred, taking another loud sip of her beverage. The bottle was almost empty now. 
	“They do whatever you tell them, which does have its...benefits. But humans are more fun, always surprising you.” She squinted at Xhe, pointing to her with a claw. “She's your handler, I suppose?”
	Dennis nodded.
	“She's my secretary, she helps me in my work and acts as a liaison with the Borealan government.”
	“Well well, you're higher ranked than I had guessed. Tell me, is she your subordinate?”
	“Yes, insofar as a Borealan can be subordinate to a human.” He looked over at Xhe, she did not seem pleased. Was it some kind of insult he wasn't aware of? He was only stating facts. Chaka put her hand over her mouth, suppressing a giggle. 
	“My, how salacious.”
	Dennis was taken aback. 
	“Salacious? Why is that?” 
	Chaka leered at Xhe, a lurid grin on her lips, exposing her sharp feline teeth.
	“I suspect that your secretary has not been volunteering information on the rights and privileges of Alphas in Borealan society.”
	Here it was again, the Patriarch had alluded to something similar. Dennis wasn't dense, he had picked up on the sexual overtones of the conversation, but whatever rites or customs Chaka was referring too would not apply to him, an alien. 
	“I'm not sure what you mean.” He lied, taking another drink.
	“You humans, always playing coy.” 
	Dennis jumped as he felt her prehensile, furry tail snake up his leg under the table. He coughed into his mug, choking on the liquid.
	“Is it finally starting to get to you, Ambassador?” She asked sarcastically. “Why don't you dismiss your secretary, and we can have a little...cultural exchange?”
	Dennis swallowed hard, and looked back at Xhe. She was glaring at them, he could see 'don't you dare' etched in her expression. She wasn't his boss, she couldn't tell him what he could and couldn't do, but he did value her counsel, and fooling around with a drunk alien twice his weight didn't seem like a sensible course of action.
	He got up abruptly, hopping off the stool. Chaka's round ears swivelled to track him.
	“Is there a restroom I could use?”
	Chaka pointed her claw at a door to the far end of the room. He marched off, adjusting his tie nervously.

	He relieved himself in a stall not unlike one might find on any human world, it appeared that the Borealans preferred a simple hole in the ground, similar to ones used in some parts of Europe. As he washed his hands in a large basin that he had to stand on his toes to reach, Chaka pushed open the door and entered the room, swaggering over to him drunkenly.
	She spun him around, pinning him against the tiled wall and pressing her thigh into his groin. He gasped at the sudden stimulation, trying to pull away, but she was too strong.
	“I want to lodge a complaint with the UNN.” She slurred. “The Ambassador doesn't want to fuck me.”
	He opened his mouth to protest, but she blew acrid smoke in his face. He coughed, trying to dispel the lingering cloud, and she brought her face down close to his, surprising him with a kiss, her pipe discarded on the floor. 
	Her rough, feline tongue parted his lips and invaded his mouth, roving wantonly as he struggled against her. She tasted of copper and ash. Her long tongue grazed his throat, and he felt his knees weakening under her relentless assault. She held him there for what felt like minutes, locked in a deep, shameless kiss. Just as he felt he might suffocate, she released him, her soft lips leaving his with an audible pop. Her tongue snaked back into her mouth, trailing a strand of saliva.
	He realized his face was red, and he was panting. He was a goddamned paper pusher, he wasn't qualified for this! The tax man wasn't sexy, the marines were the ones who had to fight off the girls on shore leave, not Dennis. He didn't know what to do. 
	Chaka snickered at his expression, and moved her mouth to the side, pulling away the white collar of his dress shirt with a hooked claw and planting a wet kiss on his neck. He shuddered at the sensation, and her warm breath tickled his skin. She pressed her thick thigh deeper into his growing erection, and kissed again, this time sucking as she pulled away to leave a red welt. 
	“I wanted to do this on the station, every day those little bastards tormented me, but they had me sharing a room with a Krell. What sour luck, never did get one of you apes alone for a one on one session.”
	She bit his neck gently, pressing her sharp fangs into his flesh. The pricking sensation sent a chill down his spine, yet despite himself his erection only grew, becoming sore and hot. She groped his bulge with her free hand, and he winced.
	“There was this one trainee, about your size, figured he'd made me his friend or something. Made up a nickname for me that I hated, kept fucking with me all the time. Every day he'd greet me like we were equals, he'd try to eat at the same table, he'd grab my tail to get my attention and he always followed me around, getting under my feet.”
	She moved up, sucking his ear into her mouth and chewing it, the lurid sounds filling his head. His heart was racing, he didn't know what to do, should he call for Xhe? Demand that she stop? Some part of him wanted to let her continue, to see where this would go. 
	“What I wouldn't give for ten minutes alone in a locked room with that kid.” She seethed, pushing her nose into his collar and breathing in, was she smelling him? 
	“You can't just give humans a good swipe with your claws, they're too fragile. They'd bleed out and then you'd be on the next jump freighter home. It defies all logic, drives you crazy, until you realize you can fuck 'em.” 
	She dragged her hot tongue across his throat, leaving a trail of wet saliva. Dennis gasped, and she squeezed again, her hand still on his groin. 
	“Heard stories about that too late, didn't get the chance to break that little trainee the way he deserved, but what do you say? Want to help me make up for lost time?”
	The door slammed open, and Xhe strode into the bathroom. She barked something at Chaka in the Borealan tongue, all hissing and spitting, it sounded harsh. Chaka hesitated, then obediently backed away, letting Dennis loose. He stumbled forward towards Xhe, crouching slightly in a futile attempt to hide his erection.
	“Did I not tell you never to leave my sight?” She scolded. “Maybe now you will heed my warnings.”
	She turned to glare at Chaka.
	“And you! You're lucky I don't report this, when has such deviant behavior been so commonplace amongst our troops?”
	“Report me for what?” Chaka slurred. “He never told me to stop, look at him, he can barely stand.”
	Xhe spat something in Borealan and Chaka lowered her head, not quite submissive in her drunken state, but knowing that she couldn't argue.
	Xhe took Dennis by the arm and led him out of the bathroom and back into the tavern. 
	“That's enough culture for one day, let's go back to the embassy.”
	
	They arrived back at the embassy, the sun was already going down. Xhe never let go of his arm the entire walk back, until he was safely in the marble hallway and the great wooden door was firmly closed behind them. She released him, glaring.
	“Why must you make my job harder than it already is, Ambassador?”
	“It's not my fault, she seemed perfectly friendly, how was I to know she would...do that?”
	“It is not your place to know, it is your place to follow my instructions, I told you not to stare at people, I told you not to get friendly, and I told you never to leave my sight. Did you think I was joking?”
	Dennis rubbed the red welt on his neck and stared at the marbled floor. Why was she chewing him out? She was under his employ, not the other way around. Maybe he should have taken her warnings more seriously, these aliens were unpredictable, volatile. He understood that now that he had seen it first hand. 
	“Ok, I'm sorry. I guess I needed to see it for myself. I'll follow your instructions next time.”
	Xhe nodded her approval, seeming to cool off a little. 
	“It is partly my fault, I wanted to get you off the street before you started a confrontation, I should have payed more attention to where I was ta	king you.”
	“Well, you did get me out of there, so I guess we're square.”
	Xhe paced in the hall, distracted.
	“You should get some sleep Ambassador, we will try again tomorrow, maybe somewhere less populated. Do you require food?”
	“No, no. I'll be fine, thank you Xhe.”
	He turned and walked to his bedroom, swinging the wooden door open and collapsing into his soft bed, the crushing weight of the gravity relieved. He massaged his aching thighs, it was getting easier, but he was still sore. Xhe was right, better to rest. Besides, she seemed agitated, and his close encounter had given him a new respect for the large creatures. 
	His mind wandered to Chaka, and her unsolicited advances. Were they unsolicited though? 
	According to Xhe his friendliness was provocative to a Borealan, simply being amicable broadcast the wrong signals, signals that to a Borealan meant challenges or invitations. This was more than just learning a new culture, or a new language, this meant re-learning his entire concept of social interaction. It must be done if he intended to succeed in his assignment on Borealis. 
	He lay back, trying to ignore the confusing fluttering in his heart, and the surge of guilty arousal as memories of Chaka's rough tongue dragging across his skin roiled in his mind. What would have happened if Xhe had not come to his rescue? Did Borealans sleep with humans? Chaka has suggested as much, and in her drunken state it seemed as if she had been willing to take things that far. Perhaps she would have hurt him, then again she might have rocked his world, he'd never find out now. 
	He rolled over to stare at the wall, aroused and a little resentful. He didn't know what he wanted.    

	Xhe struggled to control herself, she paced in the hall, clenching and unclenching her fists. The Ambassador had claimed to understand, but he didn't, he said one thing and did another. More human quirks, more contradictions. She longed to bury her claws in his supple flesh and punish him for his disobedience, but...
	She stopped herself, and performed a breathing exercise to slow her heart. She was not Alpha here, although it was unnatural, although it defied her instincts, she must defer to Carlisle, the Patriarch had ordered it. To defy the Ambassador was to defy the Patriarch, she must see this through, and remember her training. 
	Perhaps the collaboration between Borealans and humans was doomed to fail from the start, how could such fundamental differences be overcome? Was it foolish to even attempt to coexist? It didn't matter, it was not her place to decide such things, she had been given orders, and the training required to carry out those orders, and she would reign in this unruly human through means other than domination.
	The Ambassador would surely want to travel somewhere new tomorrow, she would arrange it very carefully, and maintain control. They would travel by shuttle, and she would choose an area with a low population, a fishing village perhaps. Maybe the Patriarch would loan her some of his elite guards for a day, they would be safe, they would obey unquestioningly. 
	She strode into the Ambassador's office and activated the communicator, dialing a code into the display.
	“I'm sorry to disturb you so late in the evening, but I must speak with the Patriarch.”

CHAPTER 3: CRIMSON GUARD

	“Ambassador, you must get up, we have much to do.”
	Dennis sat up, rubbing his eyes. It must be morning, though it was impossible to tell because of the lack of windows. It played havoc with his internal clock. 
	“Yes, I'm on my way Xhe, give me a moment...”
	He hopped out of bed, the familiar pressure of the harsh gravity clamping down on him, and got dressed. His suits might be bland compared to local fashions, but damn it, they were his. He couldn't represent Earth and her colonies in a Hawaiian shirt, as much as he would have liked to wear one in this crippling heat. 
	After a few minutes he stumbled out of his bedroom, Xhe was waiting in the hall, clad in a revealing blue dress made of some light, almost transparent material that clung to her figure. She looked good. Standing beside her were two towering figures, one male, one female. They wore combat armor in a UNN style. It looked like a Kevlar weave with ceramic plating covering the vital points, yet it was decorated elaborately. UNN troops wore their armor tactical black, this was red, patterned with golden embroidery in the fabric and gold paint on the ceramic plates, depicting more heroic scenes of battle and hunting. They wore fur capes, not unlike the one worn by the Patriarch, though smaller and less impressive. This was the first time he had seen a Borealan wear a full faced helmet, a dark visor obscure their features, and he assumed, shielded their faces. Amusingly their furry ears protruded from slots in the top of the helmets. 
	“Do we have company today, Xhe?”
	“These are two of the Patriarch's elite guards, they will accompany us to a lakeside fishing village, where I am hoping you will be able to explore Borealan culture...unmolested.”
	“Is it dangerous?” He asked warily, eyeing the imposing guards. Their ears pivoted and tracked him. 
	“Not unduly, but after yesterday's incident, I contacted my lord Patriarch and requested some security. This way, even if you should leave my sight, you will not leave theirs.”
	Dennis was uncomfortable, that sounded more like a threat than a reassurance. But on the other hand, he was excited to see more of the planet, and he was eager to get underway.
	“Well, let's go!” He exclaimed, striding past the elite guards towards the door. The Borealans turned to follow him. 

	Xhe led them back through the towering, white spire and onto the stone landing pad Dennis had first arrived on. A shuttle was waiting for them there, it looked like an old model. This must be one of the Patriarch's maligned purchases. They piled in, there was a Borealan pilot behind the controls wearing something analogous to a flight suit, though he had no pilot's helmet, and thus no HUD. He must be flying by eye. Dennis fastened his seatbelt extra tightly as the shuttle sputtered into life and lifted off in a cloud of dust. 
	They soared over the sandstone city, its ever impressive architecture wavering in the heat, the white glare of the spire dwindled into the distance as they crossed over the lake. The blue, shimmering surface stretched as far as the eye could see, more of an ocean than a lake by his measure. It was these precious oases that life clung to in the desert that the ancient tribes of Borealis had fought so hard over. Dennis could imagine the wandering desert tribes, driven to battle over the lush, welcoming forests and jungles, nomads warring for their right to stake their claim on the fertile land. He wondered if all of the Borealans now lived in the 'territories' the Patriarch had described, or if some still wandered the wastes, outcast and unwilling to integrate into the larger tribes. 
	He noticed the guards were armed now, they sported the long barreled, bayoneted XMR design that had become popular among Borealan service members. A variation of the modular rifle produced by the UNN, it could be modified for use by any humanoid species. He had heard stories of Borealan soldiers using these weapons as spears, as much as they actually fired them. 
	He leaned over to Xhe who was sat next to him, whispering, unsure if the guards were fluent in English.
	“So how does this arrangement work? Will they obey your orders? Are you their Alpha?”
	Xhe looked over to him.
	“You needn't whisper, they are under orders to be here, they do not care what you think.”
	He glanced at the guards, their expressions were hidden behind their opaque visors, they fiddled with their weapons, cleaning and loading mechanically. Xhe continued.
	“You must have realized it by now, but we must use parallel social structures in order for a complex society to function. If we didn't, Borealis would still be tribal, with the most powerful leading, regardless of their qualifications. The Patriarch might rule us, but he doesn't do so alone, he appoints trusted advisors to help him govern. He still makes the final decision, but he will take into account the educated opinions of his council in matters of economy, war or politics. Borealan society is governed from the top down, two individuals who might otherwise fight for dominance will cooperate when the order comes from a higher ranked member of the social structure. In this manner, a more dominant individual can even be ordered to follow the instructions of a less dominant subordinate, as long as the order to do so came from his superior.” 
	Dennis nodded, it made sense. He hadn't thought about it, but it was the only way such a rigid society would be able to get anything done without descending into infighting. 
	“So these guards will obey you, because the Patriarch told them to?”
	“Yes, even though the Patriarch is not here, he gave them orders to defer to me, thus I carry the authority of the Patriarch until I relieve them of their duties or they are given new orders.”
	“How does that work in a professional setting?” Dennis asked. “Let's say a large group of Borealans is building a dam, how do they organize?”
	Xhe thought for a moment, her clawed finger tapping her chin.
	“In that case, an overseer would be appointed either by the Patriarch or the minister in charge of that infrastructure. The overseer would carry that authority until the completion of the project.”
	“It sounds needlessly complicated.” Dennis scoffed.
	“To you, perhaps. But from our perspective, human society is incredibly chaotic and inconsistent. This way everyone knows their role, everyone has a place.”
	Dennis looked out of the window thoughtfully as the lake raced past beneath them. He could see the far shore coming into view, it seemed that the Elysian population ringed the entire lake, making use of all available space. Some areas were more populated than others, forming population centers, although not officially distinct cities. The whole area was simply known as Elysia. 
	The shuttle began to descend, and Dennis saw their target on the far bank of the lake, a small cluster of wooden buildings with piers extending a short distance into the water. A few had skiffs moored to them, bobbing gently in the water. 
	The shuttle circled, the pilot was searching for a landing site, then came down a short distance away from the small village in a clearing near the jungle. This area was not paved with stone, it seemed that the Borealans who lived here had to manually cut back the encroaching plants, he saw stumps and pruned bushes at the edge of the treeline. He felt the landing gear absorb the impact as they touched down, dust and dirt blowing up in a cloud around the shuttle. Locals crowded the border of the village, curious, perhaps some of them had never seen a shuttle before? They would certainly have never seen a human. He felt a little apprehensive, but the presence of the elite guard reassured him. 
	The landing ramp descended, and the guards stood, hefting their XMRs and waiting for Xhe's signal. She waved them forward, and they trotted out, taking up position to the left and right of the ramp. Upon seeing the crimson clad soldiers, the rapidly growing crowd appeared to mutter amongst themselves, if they had been close enough to hear, Dennis would not have understood them. 
	Xhe glided down the ramp, surprisingly elegant in her blue dress, and Dennis trailed behind her. Upon seeing him, the crowd became more animated, craning to get a look at the strange alien and his regal escort. Xhe marched towards them, and the guards followed her, Dennis struggled to keep up with her loping strides. As they neared the village, Dennis got a better look at the crowd. They were less elaborately dressed than the Borealans he had seen in the city, their clothing was more spartan and functional, their jewelry was made from shells and beads, rather than gold and gems. He noticed that almost all of these villagers had similar coloring and patterns, were they a distinct ethnic group? A tribe that Elysiedde had assimilated? 
	For the first time he saw young Borealans, children, or rather kittens. They were the size of large toddlers, chubby little creatures with large paws and oversized eyes. Their bodies were covered in a layer of fluffy fur. Borealans must lose the majority of their fur as they matured, as all of the adults he had seen were hairless besides the head, tail and feet. Perhaps the young needed it for insulation? Did Borealis even have winters? Everything seemed so arid. They hid between the legs of their parents, peeking out at him.
	Xhe came to a stop before the crowd, she addressed them in the Borealan dialect, and occasionally gestured towards Dennis, he stood straight, trying to make a good impression, without understanding what was being said.
	 Whatever they had been told seemed to satisfy them, some dispersed, going back to their business, others crowded closer, examining Dennis, their round, furry ears tracking him like radar dishes. He realized he didn't even know how to say 'hello' in Borealan, could he even pronounce the words? It seemed to be all spitting and hissing.
	An especially fat kitten stuck out its fluffy head from between two adults, staring at him with large, amber eyes. Its tail curled around the leg of its parent for reassurance. He waved at it, and it inched forward, eyeing him warily. Nobody protested as it crept closer, sneaking a sniff of his pants leg. It tugged at the fabric with stubby, clawed fingers. Xhe reached down and gripped it by the scruff of the neck, lifting it off the floor and placing it a short distance away. It hesitated for a moment, then shook itself like a dog, waddling back over to the waiting arms of its caretaker. Like many young mammals these did not seem to be fragile creatures.
	“What did you say to them?” He asked Xhe.
	“That you are the Ambassador to a Coalition ally, and that you are touring Elysia with the full authority of my lord Patriarch.”
	She made him sound so important, he had been here for a week now, and he hadn't really done anything yet besides eat, sleep and antagonize women in bars. He wondered when the Patriarch would request his presence and the political maneuvering would begin. 
	“Can you translate something for me, Xhe?”
	She nodded.
	“Tell them that I appreciate their hospitality, and that I'm looking forward to learning about their culture and way of life.”
	Xhe relayed the information, but the crowd did not have a strong reaction. They were more interested in him, than why he was here or what he wanted from them, and why shouldn't they be? This was the first time many of them had ever seen an alien. 
	“What interests you?” Asked Xhe.
	“What do you mean?”
	“What aspect of their culture are you interested in learning about?”
	Dennis thought for a moment, considering.
	“In my book I read about bare handed fishing, do they do that here?”
	“Probably, this area is very...rustic.”
	“Maybe I'll just wander around a bit first, would that be ok?”
	“We have authority here, they will not protest.”
	That wasn't really what he had asked her, but whatever. He wandered into the village proper, the guards hovering close to him as the small crowd parted to make way. The buildings here were distinct from the sturdy masonry of the capital, they were built from lumber, using the stout trunks of the gnarled trees to prop up the structures like pillars on a Greek temple. The almost wholly intact logs bore the load, while the spaces between were filled in with closely connected planks. No windows here either...
	“Xhe, why do none of your buildings have windows?”
	“Large windows would be a structural weakness, the gravity here means that buildings must be low, and strong. They would also interfere with insulation.”
	“Insulation? But it's so hot.”
	“Insulation prevents heat transfer, it keeps both the heat out in the summer, and keeps the heat inside in the winter.”
	“You have winters here, then?”
	Xhe stopped, and looked at him, an expression of surprise on her usually expressionless face.
	“Nobody told you about winter on Borealis?”
	“No...should they have?”
	“Twice per month for a period of about three days, Borealis is sent into the shadow of an eclipse as the secondary yellow star passes in front of the white primary. The temperature drops to below freezing, as what heat the atmosphere can retain is lost to space. It becomes dark, the only source of light being the secondary star. The lakes and rivers freeze, and most local fauna hibernates or retreats underground. Our ancestors would huddle deep inside caves for warmth, but in the modern era dwellings are designed to resist the weather. The people retreat inside and enter a state of reduced metabolic activity in response to the drop in temperature.”
	“That's...unusual!” Dennis replied, yet another damned obstacle. This planet was a nightmare, Earth was a paradise in comparison, and he was beginning to miss it more and more.
	“That explains why your trees look so out of place, they must be evergreen, adapted to survive the cold.”
	“Correct, our flora is very hardy. Some plants die off, releasing spores as part of their life cycle in order to grow again when the sun returns, but the larger trees and shrubs endure the winter.”
	“And this all happens in the space of one month?”
	“From the sixteenth to the eighteenth day of Borealis' thirty four day month, and from the thirty third to the first of the following month, yes.”
	“How did life even evolve in such a harsh and variable environment?”
	“A tough planet will produce tough life. We have a saying here, roughly translated from Borealan, it means 'The strict mother raises disciplined children.' Traditionally, Borealans credit their strength and endurance to the planet. It has often been worshiped as a mother deity in ancient religions.”
	“So when is the next cold period?” Dennis asked, not really wanting to know the answer.
	“Soon, a few days.” She noticed his expression. “Don't worry, you'll be perfectly safe. Our buildings are very well insulated. Don't expect to be doing much during those days though, as I said, in response to extreme cold Borealans go into a low metabolic state.” 
	“You'll have to show me an orbital model of what that looks like some time Xhe, it's hard to picture.” 
	“We are used to it. For us this is normal.”
	They walked along a dirt path towards the center of the village as Dennis digested this new information. Perhaps the chaos of the environment the Borealans lived in contributed to their desire to form strict social hierarchies. After all, prolonged arguments and bickering pretty much anywhere on the planet might result in you dying of exposure in the desert or freezing in an eclipse. Coupled with the harsh gravity and the limited living space, no wonder Borealans were such renowned front line troops. Life before the comforts of technology must have been harsh here. In a way, Xhe's adage about strict parenting was correct, this planet would have selected only the hardiest Borealans to survive and reproduce. 
	The village formed a rough crescent around the lakefront, with the piers in the center, protruding out into the water. Wooden boats, their decks covered with nets and traps were moored here, and fishing lines dangled unattended into the clear lake. Pebbles smoothed by the water crunched under Dennis' shoes as he neared the shore, peering out over the great expanse. Somewhere on the other side was the capital, he didn't know how far away it was, but it was completely out of view. 
	He crouched, searching for a flat pebble, and found one, picking it up and hefting it in his hand. He threw it, skipping it along the surface of the lake. It bounced four times, then sank under the water.
	He felt a tug at his pants leg. He looked down to see the fat kitten peering up at him expectantly. 
	He turned to Xhe, she wasn't reacting. Dennis lowered his hand and scratched the juvenile Borealan's head, it was fluffy and soft. To think the squat little creature was running around in 1.3Gs, totally carefree. 
	“What's up, little guy?” He asked.
	The kitten might not speak the local dialect yet, and certainly didn't know any English, but it responded to his voice, tugging again, its already sharp claws hooked into the fabric of his suit. 
	“You like the stones?”
	Dennis crouched, finding another smooth, flat pebble. He showed it to the kitten, who examined it with surprising care. Dennis raised his arm, and flung the pebble, flicking his wrist to put a spin on it, the rock bounced twice, then a third time, before finally sinking to the bottom. The little Borealan watched with wide eyes. 

	Xhe observed Dennis, watching him interact with the little orange kitten. He was trying to teach it a game, where pebbles were thrown at an angle so that they might skip along the surface of the water. A simple game, unknown to her. Something about his futile attempts to play with the kitten, for it was far too young to perform any kind of complex actions, was endearing to her. She had come to resent him for the trouble he caused her, and his inability to follow basic instructions, but seeing his genuine desire to explore the land and connect with its people, undiluted by any preconceptions of caste or social class, warmed her heart. Borealans went where they were ordered to go, this human went where he willed, he was as free as one could be on Borealis. 
	
	Eventually the kitten became bored, and toddled away back into the village. Dennis walked along the shore line, watching the moored boats bob on the water. He could hear the elite guards trailing a short distance behind him, their heavy boots crunching on the pebble beach. He made his way back up to the village, and stopped before an especially large building, admiring its carved features. The logs that held it up were engraved with scenes of fisherman casting nets and hoisting large creatures that looked like sharks, similar to what he had seen being chopped up for sale in the market. There were whittled figureheads above the heavy wooden doors, busts of Borealans, perhaps people of importance, or family members, Dennis couldn't guess. Everything these people built, they built to last. Who knows how long these structures had stood here, enduring the weather and the harsh winds blowing in from the lake. 
	It was hard to believe that these people, who still lived in wooden houses and fished for their livelihood, belonged to a race that now owned starships and participated in interstellar wars. 
	“You may enter, if you like.” Xhe surprised him, she was standing next to him, watching him admire the woodwork. “It is the Alpha's dwelling, but we rank higher.”
	“I wouldn't want to intrude.” Dennis replied.
	“It would not be an intrusion, you are too considerate, Ambassador. One rarely takes into account the feelings or opinions of a subordinate, they obey or they are punished.”
	“Well, that might be how you do things, not me.”
	He walked away from the building, examining the other structures. 
	“I saw fish in the city market, how do they transport their goods?”
	“By boat.” Xhe replied. “They sail across the lake and sell their cargo to vendors at the port. There are many such villages in the less developed regions of Elysia. There are hunting villages inside the jungle also.”
	Dennis perked up.
	“Hunting villages? What do they hunt?”
	“Various kinds of local fauna, the majority of species on Borealis live in the green bands. We hunt for meat and furs.”
	Dennis stared into space, remembering the pearlescent cape the Patriarch had worn. He would like to see what animal that hide had come from.
	“Can we visit one?”
	Xhe looked apprehensive.
	“Not today, no. Maybe another day, if I can arrange an escort. The jungles are not safe for a human.”
	“Well, what is there to see in this village? I want to experience the local culture. How about the fishing?”
	Xhe called to the villagers who had been milling around, observing them from a safe distance, were they perhaps afraid of the guards? A group of them walked towards Dennis and Xhe, and she addressed them for a minute in the local tongue. When she was done, they moved towards the beach, wading into the lake.
	“Did you just 'order' them to demonstrate bare handed fishing, Xhe?”
	“Yes, is there a problem?”
	Dennis didn't reply, he felt bad watching them as the water reached their waists, they were being ordered around for his amusement as if they were jesters in some medieval court. But it was not his place to judge, this was the way of things here, and upsetting the balance would do them no favors.
	Surprisingly they took to the water ardently, floating and splashing, their simple clothing seemingly designed to be worn in the water as well as on land. For some reason he had expected the Borealans to be averse to water, like house cats, but they were more like tigers. They were powerful swimmers, their reflective eyes peeking out from beneath hoods of wet hair when they floated on the surface, disappearing beneath the water with powerful strokes of their legs and tails. Xhe commented as Dennis watched them frolic.
	“Borealans like water, most enjoy swimming and bathing, there are bath houses and swimming pools in the city, but wherever you go on Borealis that is populated, a lake or a river will be nearby. Life here revolves around water.”
	One of the larger males surfaced explosively, gripping a struggling fish in his hooked claws. It was not dissimilar to the ones Dennis had eaten, an armored carapace protected its back and head, and it had more fins than he felt it should. It writhed its long, scaly body, trying to break free of the Borealan's grip. 
	“This is how we fish, traditionally. Of course in the modern era, commercial fishing must be done with nets and trawlers, in order to capture a large enough quantity to sell. But this practice lives on, both as a sport and as a way for more remote communities such as this one to supplement their diet.”
	Two more Borealans surfaced, holding fish of varying sizes. One female struggled in the shallows, dragging something large onto the beach. It writhed and twisted, splashing and frothing in the water so as to obscure it from view. There was a touch of pink to the foam, and the woman heaved, her claws embedded in whatever it was that she had caught. The villagers crowded around, making vocalizations that sounded like cheering, or yowling, but none stepped forward to help her. It seemed she had to do this on her own.
	She pulled the struggling beast from the water, it was one of the shark creatures from the market that Dennis had seen being prepared for sale, grey skinned with half a dozen waving flippers. With one last grunt she beached it, unhooking her claws, the deep wounds in its blubbery meat oozing crimson blood. It attempted to swim, its six foot long body undulating, and its wide, toothless mouth gasping rhythmically as its tail dug into the smooth pebbles. 
	“That is a good catch.” Xhe said, appraising the creature as it wriggled. “Perhaps we should ask them to prepare it for you, would you like to eat it?”
	“Sure, if it wouldn't inconvenience them.”
	Xhe waved dismissively, as if to say that she didn't care, and neither should he. 
	The crowd cheered enthusiastically, and the female who had dragged the beast ashore pounded a clenched fist on her prominent abdominal muscles, barking what might have been a victory cry. 
	Dennis watched as more of the Borealans left the water, discarding their fish into a pile near the 'shark'. There was no point asking Xhe what it was called, he wouldn't be able to pronounce it.
	Xhe spoke to the fisherman, and they chatted amongst themselves, nodding and gesturing to the fish. After a moment two of the males hefted the heavy shark, now limp and lifeless, carrying it back to the village. The smaller fish were piled into a large wicker basket.
	“I told them that the Ambassador, guest of the lord Patriarch, wishes them to prepare the fish in whatever way they deem appropriate, so that he might sample the local flavors.” Xhe declared.
	Dennis nodded. Something about the way Xhe treated these people rubbed him the wrong way. She wasn't being abusive, they seemed happy to obey her, but the way she lorded over them and ordered them around, simple fishermen who were obviously far below the means of those who lived in the city, gave him a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Borealan society respected strength and achievement, but what of the lower rungs of society? What of the poor and the weak? If Xhe was to be believed, they had a place in the power structure and they obeyed willingly, but to Dennis' human eyes it didn't seem as if they had much of a choice in the matter. In such a harsh environment and on a planet only recently contacted, perhaps issues of social mobility were not a priority. 

	The sun was setting, and Dennis sat on the beach, the pebbles cool beneath his hands. The giant shark had been skewered and was being slowly spit roasted over a crackling fire by an older Borealan with greying hair. The rest of the villagers milled about, the low murmur of unintelligible alien speech floating over the calm water. A handful of kittens prodded the fire with long sticks, mesmerized both by the dancing, orange flames and the slowly turning shark. Xhe and the guards were standing some distance away, seemingly at ease. The cool air blowing in from the lake alleviated the heat, and ruffled his hair, even the high gravity couldn't ruin the moment. He looked to the sky, the bright pinpoints of light visible against the velvet darkness. One light was especially bright and close, it must be the secondary yellow star in the binary system.   
	He wondered what Xhe might say if she saw Earth's moon, massive and prominent in the night sky. The more he learned about the galaxy the more he realized how unusual it was to have a satellite so large and close, craters and plains visible with the naked eye. 
	Xhe called to him, the food was ready. He rose to his feet, his stomach rumbling as the smell of the roasted fish wafted over to him. He made his way up the beach, the pebbles crunching under his shoes, and sidled up to Xhe. The old Borealan with the salt and pepper hair pulled a chunk of meat from the flank of the animal, now supple and pliant. The soft, white flesh pulled away from the cartilage, and he skewered it on a long, metal fork. He handed it to Dennis, who had to compensate as he took the metal prong, it was heavy. He sunk his teeth into the meat, it was surprisingly firm and chewy, more like a steak than a fish fillet. It had a pungent odor, but the taste was pleasant.
	“My compliments to the chef!” He mumbled through a mouthful of meat. Xhe relayed his praise to the old Borealan and he clapped happily. 
	“Will you not have some?” He asked Xhe, who stood with her arms crossed.
	“No, this food is a little...rural for my tastes.”
	“Oh don't be such an elitist. Because you're of high rank you can't enjoy good food?”
	She didn't reply, staring into the fire, the light reflecting in her eyes.
	“What if I ordered you to eat it, I'm higher ranked than you, right?”
	Xhe sighed, dragging her fingers down her face in a gesture of exasperation.
	“Xhe, as the Ambassador to Earth and the personal guest of the lord Patriarch, I hereby order you to eat with me!” Dennis declared, his tone mocking.
	Xhe looked like she wanted to punch him, but she chirped at the old Borealan, who obliged, handing her a piece of meat on a long fork. She bit into it with her long fangs, making eye contact as if to imply that if he kept this up, she would replace the shark meat with his jugular. 
	“How is it?”
	She rolled her eyes.
	“It's good. Now don't gloat.”
	Dennis grinned and took another bite of his fish. The guards looked on, the female especially had her ears fixed on Dennis, perhaps she spoke English, or was just picking up on the body language between the two of them. He couldn't see her face behind her dark visor. 
	Once Xhe and Dennis had taken their share, the villagers moved in, picking apart the carcass in short order. They were like a wolf pack, letting the higher ranked members eat first. 

	Dennis did his best to finish the Borealan-sized portion he had been given, the amount of calories these aliens consumed was astounding. He relaxed by the fire, the large iron fork discarded on the ground. The crackling flames drew dancing shadows on the beach as he lounged. He felt at peace, these villagers might not have access to the same technology and standard of living that the city dwellers had, but they had all the roasted shark they could eat, and complete autonomy it seemed. The capital was too far away to seriously interfere in their daily lives, besides dictating the price of their catch. Perhaps advanced civilization wasn't all it was cracked up to be.
	He rose to his feet, intending to walk along the beach to settle his stomach.  
	“Where are you going?” Asked Xhe, she was slumped on a wooden bench alongside the male guard, the food had gotten to her too it seemed. He chuckled to himself, she had been so angry when he had made her join the village in their meal, and now she was almost falling asleep she had eaten so much of it.
	“I want to go on a walk, just down the beach. It's a nice night.”
	“Very well, but take a guard with you.”
	He began to protest, but the female guard snapped to attention, her crimson armor illuminated by the firelight. 
	“They're here to protect you, the order to ensure your safety comes from the Patriarch, you cannot countermand it.”
	“Oh fine, I shouldn't be long anyway. I just need to clear my head, digest.” He patted his belly.
	Xhe waved him away, closing her eyelids heavily. The Borealans were like a pride of lions, everyone who had eaten was practically passed out, some of them were literally sleeping in a pile. Only the two guards remained alert. 
	He glanced at the female guard, her furry, round ears tracked him. He set off along the beach and she loped behind him, staying fairly close. The guards never spoke, and they never showed their faces, perhaps it was the same logic that the UNN special forces used. They hid their identity to avoid reprisals or unwanted publicity that might expose their clandestine operations.
	He could feel the guard's eyes on the back of his head, even if he couldn't see her face. It was kind of spoiling the mood. This was the first time since arriving on the planet that he had been more than a couple of dozen feet away from a Borealan, he had wanted to enjoy some alone time. 
	“Think you could er...hang back a little bit? Kind of ruining my vibe here.”
	She didn't respond, probably didn't even speak English. Why would she? He was on Borealis. It wouldn't have surprised him if Xhe had specifically requested guards that didn't speak English so that he couldn't order them around or interfere in their chaperoning. He kept walking, the glow of the fire receded and he found himself in near darkness, the only light coming from the stars. 
	“Not very talkative?” He asked. No response, not even an attempt to acknowledge him. 
	“Well you're just a ray of sunshine aren't you, captain killjoy?”
	Her boots crunched heavily on the beach, and he turned his head to glance behind at her. She was tall, about eight feet, average for a Borealan. Her apple red combat armor clung to her impressive figure, accentuating her toned musculature as she walked, thick thighs and wide hips rolling in rhythm. Her painted breast plate obscured her chest, but it looked considerable. He dared not look for too long, and turned his head back forwards. Maybe it was just the gravity, but every woman he saw seemed to be in great shape, at least compared to a human. Life here was rugged, it bred strong people. He wondered idly if what Chaka has said was true, that humans and Borealans...fraternized on that space station everyone kept bringing up. He had trouble imagining the mechanics of it, the differences in size and weight were so great. His neck burned where Chaka had left a welt, and he rubbed it absent-mindedly. 
	In any case, now was not the time for such thoughts, he was trying to enjoy the night. He hadn't felt so cool since he had descended the ramp of the UNN shuttle and felt the wall of Borealan heat hit him like a train. The wind from the lake was a soothing balm.
	“It's a nice night, don't you think?” He said, not expecting an answer. The alien marched on, unresponsive. “The least you could do is make conversation if you're going to spoil my walk, hell, you don't even speak English, do you? That damn Xhe, she did this on purpose. I know it.”
	He kicked a pebble and it bounced away into the darkness.
	“I get a brief moment of alone time after being stuck in that damned embassy for a week, and Xhe sends you after me, like I'm some kind of incompetent child. I ask you, what could possibly happen to me on a deserted beach?”
	No reply.
	Dennis rested his hands in his pockets and tried to make the best of it, but he was resentful. 
	“I'll have to give you a name if you won't tell me what yours is, what about...” He scratched his chin pensively. “Cola, because your armor looks like one of those red aluminium cans. Get me some white paint and I can draw the logo right across your chest.”
	The guard was robotic, completely focused on her task it seemed. Perhaps she had been ordered to ignore him, and that was a thought that made him angry. Maybe he would try to learn this hissing, yowling language of theirs, and then Xhe would not be able to dictate who he could and couldn't talk to. Even if he couldn't pronounce the words he could surely understand what was being said.
	“What do you think, Cola? Think I can learn your crazy language?” He paused to pick up a stone, and threw it into the lake, he heard the splash as it hit the surface, but it was too dark to see.
	The guard paused next to him, her expressionless visor tracking his movements. She must have some kind of HUD, or night vision under there, there was no way she would be able to see through a tinted visor in such low light. 
	“Judge Dredd over here...” Dennis complained. 

	He walked for another fifteen minutes, skirting the shore of the lake, occasionally chattering to Cola. It was oddly therapeutic, everyone he talked to under normal circumstances was so formal, it was nice to let off steam. He didn't really have any friends here, no one that he could confide in, and the lack of social interaction was beginning to gnaw at him. Cola never made a sound, but he could pretend that she was deeply interested in his directionless rambling.
	Here the jungle protruded onto the beach, the roots of the gnarled trees reaching towards the water. Dennis stepped over them, walking into the foliage. Xhe probably wouldn't want him to explore this small island of foliage, but she wasn't here. In fact if he were to enter the village would be out of sight. 
	“You don't mind, right Cola? After me? How kind of you.”
	He entered the brush, alien plants bending as he passed, their oddly shaped leaves catching on his clothing. He reached a small clearing, the ground under his feet had become dirt, not pebbles. Now he felt as if he should turn back, getting lost in a forest was not on his itinerary for today, but he reveled in his brief moment of autonomy. 
	“Well Cola, we'd best turn back, we can't keep Xhe waiti-”
	Something slammed into his back painfully, knocking him to the ground with a thud that left him breathless. Stunned, he tried to pick himself up, brushing soil off his suit and rolling onto his back. Cola put her oddly shaped boot on his chest, pinning him to the ground. To his horror, he heard a distorted female voice emerge from the helmet, slightly robotic. It must be playing through speakers. The familiar rolling Borealan accent echoed through the clearing.
	“Idiot, Xhe never ordered me to guard you in Borealan. She spoke only English, and you didn't even pay enough attention to notice.”
	The blood drained from Dennis' face. He had assumed from her lack of response that she didn't speak English, now he realized he had been taunting a Borealan warrior for the better part of a half hour. 
	“Why didn't you reply? I-”
	Cola increased the pressure on his chest, cutting him off.
	“I have orders not to speak to you, you are at least that perceptive.”
	He cursed himself for his stupidity, of all the times to let off steam, why had he chosen now? Why had he made assumptions? Again he had unwittingly provoked a Borealan, and now Xhe was not around to come to his rescue. Would this alien kill him?
	“I'm sorry.” He wheezed, “I didn't know. What's your real name? Maybe we can-”
	She pressed down again, squeezing the air from his lungs.
	“Oh, you can call me Cola. I want you to.”
	“How about we just...cool off for a minute, and then talk about this? That sound good?”
	Cola dropped to her knees, straddling him, her considerable weight pressing down on his lower body.
	“I've heard enough talking from you.”	
	She dropped her XMR heavily on the ground beside him, the serrated bayonet bouncing an inch from his face. She rolled her heavy hips, pressing down into his groin, making him gasp and squirm, but she locked her steely thighs around him. Dennis was trapped, he couldn't wriggle free. 
	She leaned over him, bringing her opaque visor down to his face. Was she examining him? He couldn't see her expression, he couldn't guess what she might be thinking. A shiver rolled down his spine as her distorted voice whispered to him through the helmet's speakers.
	“You should know by now what happens next, don't struggle, or I'll use my claws on you.”
	She brandished her shiny claws, bringing her hand, clad in a fingerless glove, up to his neck, dragging them lightly across his skin. She noticed the welt Chaka had left, and crooned.
	“Looks like someone already had a go at you, doesn't surprise me with a mouth like yours.” She pushed her finger into the red mark, pressing down painfully. Dennis groaned and tried to pull away.
	Cola chuckled, the sound crackling through her helmet like an old radio. 
	“You're not military, are you?”
	Dennis shook his head, and she brought her hand to his face, caressing his cheek in mock affection.
	“Poor creature, this might be hard on you.”
	She reached behind her back, and popped some kind of catch, her heavy ceramic chest plate fell off, and she caught it before it landed on his belly. He flinched, and she chuckled again. She discarded it on the floor beside her weapon. A zipper ran down the length of her skin tight, red suit, from the collar to the crotch. She held it between her thumb and forefinger, dragging it down past her chest, torturously slowly. Her weighty breasts, now hanging free without the support of the chest plate, strained to pull the fabric apart as she exposed her chest to him. She was of the tan variety, cream colored stripes ended at her clavicles, patterning her smooth, caramel skin. The zipper reached her breasts, and the tight clothing strained to contain them, large metal teeth pulling apart under their considerable weight. 
	Dennis watched, mesmerized, as the fat globes broke free of their restraint, bouncing gently as they settled, pink nipples engorged and erect. To a Borealan they were of average size, but to a human they were mammoth. To his shame, he felt a hardness growing in his pants, pressing awkwardly against her. 
	She continued to drag the zipper slowly down her body, teasing him, grinding gently into the erection she could surely sense pressing against her loins. It passed her torso and reached her navel, the tight, red Kevlar parting to reveal a row of toned abdominal muscles protruding prominently from below her skin. It must be hot inside the restrictive suit, and beads of sweat rolled down the bulging tissue, glistening as they caught the starlight. 
	“That's better...” She sighed through her robotic filter. “These suits are so stifling.”
	She dragged the zipper down past her crotch, her smooth belly giving way to a small puff of soft, brown fur on her pubic mound. As it passed between her legs, a string of viscous juice dripped from below, staining Dennis' pants. Her voice crackled to life again, echoing unnaturally.
	“It's been so long since I had my claws in a human. You little guys really are the best lay, you know that? You don't know when to quit, you keep fighting even when you've lost.”
	Her thick thighs closed firmly around his waist, she gripped his necktie in her hand, pulling him into a sitting position, at eye level with her meaty breasts. He gagged as the tie tightening around his neck, choking him. She held him there, using his tie as a leash, and lowered her visored face down to his ear.
	“Call me Cola again, do it...”
	He shook his head, if he complied, it would just piss her off, and if he refused, she would be equally annoyed. He felt her shudder, the movement in her wide hips translating into his stiff member. She laughed again, the low rumbling fizzing and popping with the static of her suit radio.
	“You look petrified, you shouldn't be. The last time I did a human, he started off begging for it to end, but after I'd wrung him out a few times, he begged for it to continue.”  
	She tugged his tie hard, and Dennis coughed, the fabric tightening around his neck. 
	“I don't have all night, get to work, use that smooth tongue you're so happy to wag.”
	She pulled him into her chest, placing her other hand in his hair as she held on to his tie. Her skin was warm and smooth, slick with a layer of sweat. She pressed his face into one of her boobs, the supple fat hiding firm breast tissue underneath. She pulled his hair, tugging it in her fist, and he complied, finding one of her hard nipples as he probed with his lips, sucking it into his mouth. Cola shivered as his lips closed around it.
	“Use your hands too...” She prompted. But as he raised them to her chest, he felt her furry, sinewy tail snake up between their bodies, coiling around his wrists. She pulled it taught, tying his hands together and forcing them down to his lap. 
	“On second thought, that XMR is pretty close, wouldn't want you doing anything stupid.”
	She gripped his hair, pulling his head up to gaze down at him, her face still hidden behind her dark visor, expressionless.
	“Because then I'd have to kill you.”
	Dennis' mind and body were out of sync, his knees were weak and his heart was beating like a pneumatic pump. Butterflies tickled his belly and shivers ran up his spine in waves, dizzying him with their icy prickle. Despite that, his erection, now hot and throbbing, pressed desperately against her exposed labia, her sticky emissions soaking through to his skin and her heat radiating down through his clothes. He was terrified of her, and excited by her, fear and apprehension and arousal mixing into a thick soup that addled his brain. 
	He didn't understand what he wanted, perhaps Cola would tell him? 
	She tugged again, and he sucked ardently, running his tongue across her stiff nipple, tasting the salty sweat on her tanned skin. 
	“Chew it a little, don't bite...”
	He pressed her erect nipple between his teeth gently, squeezing it, and her breathing became heavy, her breasts swaying slowly as her chest heaved up and down. He ran his tongue around her areola, sucking wetly, and he felt her grip in his hair grow tighter as she clenched. A low sigh escaped her robotic filter.
	“Now the other.”
	She pulled his head back by his hair, then forced his face into her second breast, the pliable flesh deforming and pressing against his burning cheeks. He found the nipple with his lips, drawing it in, and repeated the process. He caught the stiff protrusion between his tongue and his teeth, squeezing it rhythmically, then applied more suction, drawing it into his mouth. Its length surprised him, and he circled his tongue around it. She shuddered, pressing her groin down against his erection, the heat emanating from it almost hot enough to blister him through his clothing. After a minute she barked at him in her synthetic voice.
	“Enough of that.”
	She released his hair and her tail uncoiled from his wrists, but she kept one hand on his tie, crawling off him and moving a short distance away, tugging him along as if he were a dog. He rose to his feet awkwardly, stumbling after her. She leaned up against the gnarled trunk of a tree, sitting with her legs splayed, and pulled him towards her. 
	“I'm gonna put that big mouth of yours to better use, get down here.” She tugged his tie, and it tightened around his neck painfully. He brought his hands up trying to pull it loose, but using her prehensile tail she pulled one his arms away, gripping his wrist tightly.
	“Leave the necktie, it turns me on. You don't want me to tie your hands again, if you do a good job I might let you touch yourself.”
	She pulled him down, Dennis fell to his knees and stumbled forward. She put a firm hand on the back of his head and pushed it down between her long legs. 
	“Don't just dive right in, kiss me, tease me a little.”
	Dennis' anger overcame his fear momentarily, he wasn't a damn Borealan, he wouldn't follow orders from these pompous aliens as if they had some authority over him. He was independent, here to fulfill a diplomatic mission. He wasn't some spineless fisherman who could be ordered around like a slave.
	“No, fuck you.” He spat.
	Cola giggled, the sound buzzing oddly through her speakers.
	“Oh how cute, you think you have a choice.”
	She tugged him closer so that his cheek was pressed against her hard abs, lustrous with sudor, and slipped her hand down the back of his shirt. She dragged it up his back, raking her sharp claws over his skin. He yelped and flinched, she didn't apply enough pressure to cut him, but just enough to sting and burn. She wrapped her large hand around the back of his head as he groaned into her belly, stroking his hair in a mock gesture of concern.
	“Now be a good human, and let me fuck your face.”
	He relaxed, leaning against her, feeling the red lines she had drawn on his back burning. He pressed his lips against her firm abs, kissing them slowly, sometimes flicking his tongue across her salty skin as he mouthed. 
	“Ah...that's right. Keep that up.” Cola groaned, her six pack flexing and twisting as his questing lips tickled her skin. He moved down past her navel, sticking his tongue inside it as he passed. She squirmed and crooned happily, all of her vocalizations and expressions taking on the same odd, robotic timbre. 
	“You're pretty smart, smarter than the marine anyway. He fought me for hours, every time I forced him to come, he'd lean into me and hold me tightly, as if I were his lover. Then he'd recover, and become ashamed, trying to resist me again. Every time I broke him was sweeter than the last, eventually he became so exhausted that he just did whatever I told him to do.”
	He felt one of her hands brush past him, sneaking down to rub her mound. A mixture of excitement and shame washed over Dennis, and he lowered his head to her thighs, the musky smell of her sex filling his senses. They were thick, full of firm muscle beneath a layer of smooth fat, almost as wide around as his damn torso. He wrapped his arm around one, pressing his lips against her inner thigh, mouthing and licking the sensitive zone. The soft fat gave way to steely muscle as he pressed his fingers deeper into her flesh. 
	“You've not really done anything like this before, have you?” She purred, “I can tell.”
	She stopped rubbing and raised her right hand, fingers wet with her flowing juices, and gripped his face with her left, the tie still in her grasp. Her sharp claws pricked his cheeks as she forced her finger past his lips and into his mouth. He avoided the hooked claw with his tongue, fearing it would cut him as her metallic, salty flavor played over it.
	“How do I taste?” She laughed as he glared at her helmet, the unnatural sound buzzing in his ears. 
	“Now don't bite, little Ambassador. Not if you want to walk out of here tonight.”
	She withdrew her long finger, a string of mixed juice and saliva linking it to his lips. She use the red necktie to dab his mouth, as if she were cleaning a messy child. Dennis fumed.
	“There's that look again, the one you little apes give me when you still think you can win. I love that look, defiant, angry, it never lasts. Even if you do everything I tell you to do, I'm still going to hurt you, you smart mouthed little fuck. Because you deserve it.”
	She tugged the tie, forcing his head down towards her open, leaking lips, their pink, fleshy interior peeking past her dark skin. 
	“As the elite guard tasked with fucking the Ambassador to Earth, I hereby order you to eat me out.” She mocked, mimicking the order he had given Xhe to join the village in their meal back on the beach. His cheeks burned red and he felt her hand on the back of his head, gripping his hair again, yet his erection bounced in his pants, throbbing in time with his heartbeat.
	With a grunt that sounded more like an explosion of static through her helmet, she pushed his face into her loins, his nose entered the soft tuft of fur on her mound, and his mouth met her glistening lips, glazed with her thick emission. 
	“Stick your tongue as deep as it will go.” She demanded, and pulled the necktie painfully tight when he didn't comply. He choked and did as he was told, pushing his tongue past her velvet folds and into her warm tunnel, playing it over the bumps and creases. She closed her meaty thighs around his head, holding him there as she clenched and her insides contracted.
	“Fuck...that's it...”
	He wrapped his arms around her thighs for purchase, his hands delving into the glass smooth skin. Her scent and taste were overpowering. He felt her dexterous tail tugging at his waistband, then jumped as the furry appendage wrapped his member in a soft cocoon, tickling him. He writhed his hips, but she was closed around him tightly. She pumped slowly, running the soft fur up and down his shaft.
	“Ambassador! You're on fire down there, are you enjoying this? How indecent...”
	He gasped into her crotch as she squeezed him tightly, and she shivered happily.
	“You're so much fun, I wish I could keep you...” She tugged his tie again. “I didn't say stop.”
	He resumed his licking and probing, her warm, silky flesh pressing against his lips. He felt her tail uncoil, and reached a hand down, intending to finish the job. He felt her tail wrap his wrist, and pull it back.
	“No, I lied.”
	He mumbled a curse into her loins and she shuddered at the sensation, chuckling cruelly from behind her visor. She let out a low moan, distorted by her speakers, as he pressed his tongue against her textured walls. Her insides flexed, trying to pull him deeper.
	“Fuck...I'm getting close, don't you dare stop now or I'll make you wish your mother had been sterilized.” She reached a hand down and exposed her engorged clitoris, tugging his head up with a fistful of hair so that his lips closed around it. He sucked the firm, inflamed nub of flesh into his mouth obediently, and ran his tongue over it. She shivered and bucked, pushing his face into her soft pubic hair, her musky scent filling his nose.
	“Get your fingers in there, fuck! Don't you know how to give head?”
	She grabbed his hand roughly, and forced his fingers into her slippery entrance, the walls of her vagina, like damp satin, contracting in waves and trying to crush them. He alternated between applying suction and chewing gently, dragging the rough surface of his tongue over her sensitive protrusion. She arched her back, grinding her massive hips against his face and squeezing his head between her soft thighs as he probed with his fingers, wriggling them and pushing them deeper.
	“Unf, faster!” She exclaimed, and he increased the pace, trying to compensate as she banged her pubic bone into him in a desperate bucking motion and crushed his head between her powerful legs. She brought both of her hands down into his hair and gripped it painfully in handfuls.
	She let out a low rumble, distorted by her helmet, like a primal, animal roar that shook Dennis' bones. She came, waves of pleasure rolling over her, causing her muscles to flex and bulge and her juices to flow into his mouth, making him gag and sputter. Unrelenting, she held him there as she came, compressing his fingers inside her painfully as the intense contractions rippled through her organ. Again and again her taut body was wracked by intense aftershocks, almost suffocating Dennis in her fugue. She held him prisoner between her moist thighs for what felt like an age, before finally releasing him, and he sat back on the soil, trying to wipe her thick, sticky excitement from his face. 
	She kneaded one of her breasts with one hand, and rubbed her mound with the other, jumping and twitching occasionally as if she were hooked up to an electric battery. They both breathed heavily, Cola from the intensity of her orgasm, and Dennis from his lack of oxygen.  
	“Fuck...” She exclaimed. “Did you enjoy that, human? How does a real woman measure up to your spindly little females?”
	He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, glaring at her. She chuckled, her dark breasts bouncing enticingly as she laughed at him. She rose to her hands and knees and crawled towards him, mimicking a predator. He began to crawl back but she closed fast, grabbing his tie in her hand again.
	“I'm not done with you, that was just the appetizer. I thought you wanted to sample the local flavors?” 
	He opened his mouth to protest, but she stopped suddenly, and raised a finger to the side of her helmet. Dennis heard something buzz and hiss, and Cola replied to it in the Borealan dialect, then stood, pulling up the zipper on her tight, red suit. 
	“Xhe wants to know why we're taking so long. I told her you wanted to explore, she ordered us back to the village. Breathe a word of this to her, and next time we meet I'll ventilate you. Remember, I know where you live.”
	He rose to his feet on shaky legs, and she chuckled at him as he stood unsteadily.
	“You'll have to walk that off, and wash your face in the lake, my cum is all over you.” She finished zipping up her suit, struggling to push her large breasts back inside, and laughed wryly at his expression. 
	“Sorry Ambassador, we'll have to finish this another time. You'll just have to remember my taste and finish yourself off later.” She knelt to pick up her breast plate and clipped it back on, the retrieved her XMR from where she had discarded it.
	“Get moving, she wants us back ASAP.”	
	She shoved Dennis back the way they had come, and he stumbled out of the clearing, his still raging erection rubbing uncomfortably against the fabric of his underwear. 
	
	“You were gone a long time.” Xhe chided. “What were you doing?”
	“Exploring...” Dennis replied sheepishly. 
	“Why is your clothing wet?”
	“Gravity got the better of me, I fell into the lake.”
	Xhe looked skeptical, and glanced at Cola, who was standing to attention in silence.
	“No matter, it is late, we must leave now anyway.”
	He walked back through the village, following Xhe to the shuttle. Cola and the second masked guard trailed a short distance behind them. It seemed that after the feast on the beach, all of the villagers had retired to their dwellings. When they reached the shuttle, they ascended the ramp and sat down on the seats that lined the interior. The pilot had stayed in the shuttle the entire time they were away, and he looked as if he had just woken up. He yawned sleepily, hitting switches and powering up the engines. Dennis was sat across from Cola, and as the shuttle lifted he tried to avoid looking at her. He was still unsteady, and although he had washed her juices off his face in the lake, and done his best to straighten his clothes, he was self-conscious and worried that Xhe might notice somehow. 
	Dennis felt oddly whistful, he would never admit that he had enjoyed his encounter with Cola, not even to himself, but the unwelcome arousal and the longing for release that had never come lingered in his mind. He realized Cola was watching him from behind her visor, he could feel her eyes on him. He stared at the floor intently, trying to ignore her. 
	Should he ask for her number? Was that done on Borealis? His heart leapt at the thought, an opportunity to continue their encounter, but was that what he wanted? Did he enjoy the callous, cruel way she had toyed with him? A tension rose inside him, he didn't know, he didn't understand what he wanted, he couldn't rationalize the way she had made him feel. His face was reddening, he had to take his mind off it, and so he tried to make out the features of the landscape through one of the small windows in the hull. 

	The flight was uneventful, the shuttle put down outside the towering white spire, and the elite guards escorted them to the door of the embassy. Xhe dismissed them in the Borealan tongue, and as she turned to enter the building and the second guard turned to leave, Dennis felt Cola's hand on his shoulder. She leaned in and whispered into his ear, her voice crackling through her helmet's speakers.
	“See you around.”
	His face flushed red, and she turned, walking off into the night. 
	Xhe yawned, opening her wide jaws to bare sharp teeth, then turned her head back to see where Dennis was.
	“What are you doing? Come inside.”
	He entered, closing the heavy wooden door behind him. 
	“Is something wrong? Your face is red, Ambassador. You smell...strange.”
	She could smell him? Did Borealans have a keener sense of smell than humans? What could she smell on him? 
	“I'm fine, just tired, the gravity...”
	“Very well, get some rest, tomorrow I will organize more activities, if you feel up to it.”
	Dennis nodded, and made his way quickly to his bedroom. 
	He collapsed into the soft sheets, his mind roiling. First Chaka, now Cola, these Borealans were a nightmare, although he had never felt so...wanted. His history with women was not very impressive, at least not on Earth, but it seemed that these aliens were insatiable, his very existence seemed to anger or arouse them. Should he take advantage of it? Did he enjoy their aggressive advances? 
	Perhaps his frustration was clouding his mind, twice now he had been turned on, then pulled away before he could get any kind of release. Yes, that must be it. It wasn't that he enjoyed it, he was just frustrated. He pulled the sheets over him, and his hand wandered below his belt. Not because Cola had told him to, but because it might relieve him of this confusion.

CHAPTER 4: RAINBOW SPIDER

	The next morning Dennis was awoken by Xhe knocking on his door.
	“Ambassador, I managed to arrange a hunting trip, I brought you breakfast. We will be departing in one hour.”
	A hunting trip? He had told he her wanted to see the jungle, but he hadn't expected her to organize it so quickly. He hopped out of bed, pulling on a pair of pants, then went to open the wooden door. Xhe was wearing a green dress today, in a similar style of light, almost transparent fabric as her previous one. She held a silver tray, upon which were two large smoked fish. Dennis eyed them hungrily.  
	“Eat as much as you are able, there will be a lot of walking today, with few opportunities for rest.”
 	He took the tray from her hands and set it on a table, picking up a fish with his fingers and biting into it, savoring the smokey flavor.
	“How are we doing with the cutlery?” He mumbled, through a mouthful of fish.
	“I have put out a territory wide request asking for cutlery, should any be available. The Patriarch buys all manner of things, often on a whim. It is possible that some silverware or leftover dining equipment from a ship he purchased is still sitting in a warehouse somewhere. If I can't find any, I will commission a set from a metallurgist, I assure you a set will be available before you attend one of the Patriarch's banquets.”
	Dennis nodded appreciatively as he sucked the grease from his fingers. He doubted the Patriarch would care either way, but it made him feel self-conscious to eat with his fingers, he wanted to be at his best for the politically delicate banquets.
	
	When he had finished eating he joined Xhe outside the embassy, and they made their way up the steps of the ivory tower to the landing pad, where the same pilot from the previous day was waiting for them in his shuttle. It really might be one of the only operable shuttles in service on the planet, and that thought amazed Dennis. The skies of Earth were clogged with the damned things. 
	“No guards this time?” He asked. Xhe shook her head.
	“We will meet with rangers at the landing site, they will take us through the jungle.”
	He looked at her flowing dress, and considered asking her if it was appropriate attire for a romp through the jungle, but thought better of it. They loaded into the shuttle, and it lifted off in a cloud of dust, angling its nose out across the lake. The landing site must be on the opposite shore.
	As the craft jetted over the reflective water, Dennis questioned Xhe about the trip.
	“So who are these rangers we're going to meet?”
	“They are professional hunters, they are most often raised in villages deep within the green bands. They have a reputation for being antisocial, but if you asked them, they would tell you they enjoy the seclusion of the jungle. They are valued for their intimate knowledge of the local flora and fauna, and their hunting prowess garners them much respect in Borealan society, even if they choose to distance themselves from it.”
	“I've seen lots of hunting scenes on the tapestries, and the armor worn by the Patriarch and his guards, were those the rangers?”
	“For the most part, yes. Hunting is a favorite pastime of the Patriarch, though he rarely has time for it these days. Connecting Borealis with the rest of the galaxy is hectic work.”
	“I can imagine, I'll be helping him do it soon.”
	“And I along with you, Ambassador.” Xhe replied, she sounded somewhat exasperated.
	Dennis put his hand on her shoulder, intending to reassure her, but she flinched and bared her teeth reflexively. He remembered the tourist guide, where it had told him not to touch Borealans without their express permission, and withdrew his hand quickly.
	“Sorry, I just...I wanted to tell you that I appreciate the work you do for me. I know I can be kind of a handful, I'm still learning how things work on this planet. That you're able to run around organizing everything, getting me all the things I need. Food, transport, information, translation, you make it all look so easy. It kind of blows my mind. If every Borealan secretary is as efficient and helpful as you are, you guys could make big money back on Earth. Hell, we have a hard enough time getting ours to make appointments and brew coffee.”
	Xhe's expression softened.
	“I admit, sometimes I feel like I have a giant kitten running around the embassy getting into trouble, but I know that you're trying. You are genuinely interested in our culture and our society, I can see it in your face every time you come across some new artifact or practice. You definitely didn't know what you were signing up for when you accepted this job, but at least from my perspective, you seem perfectly suited to the role. The UNN could send a highly trained diplomat who never made a bad decision, but if he didn't care about Borealis and her people, it would be pointless.”
	Dennis grinned, it was high praise coming from the stoic Xhe. 
	The shuttle banked, shedding speed and altitude as their destination came into view. They passed over the shoreline of the lake, heading out over the jungle canopy, an ocean of green leaves passing beneath the belly of the craft. In the distance lay a large clearing, and as they drew closer he could make out buildings in it. 
	The ship came to a stop, hovering gingerly as the pilot maneuvered the craft down into an open area, a little too close to some wooden dwellings, not dissimilar to the ones from the fishing village. This outpost was not designed to accommodate shuttles. The landing gear bounced as they impacted the ground, and as the cloud of dust settled, Xhe and Dennis descended the ramp. 
	A small group was waiting for them. Tall, lean Borealans, clad in leather that barely covered them and decorated with beads and large feathers. Dennis had noticed that the air was oddly humid in the jungle despite its proximity to the planet-spanning desert, it made sense to dress...sparingly. His eyes lingered on one female, especially large even for a Borealan, she must be nearing nine feet. She wore a skirt made of animal hide, held up with a decorative belt from which strings of colorful beads and what looked like teeth or claws dangled. Her breasts were covered with a leather sling that barely contained them, and there were a dozen necklaces hanging from around her neck. Feathers, beads, teeth, what looked like arrow heads, she had it all. Her hair was jet black, which contrasted with her pale skin and her dark brown leopard spots that reminded Dennis of birth marks. Her black hair was stuffed with innumerable bird feathers, they jutted at odd angles, and dazzled him with their bright colors. A large male stepped forward to greet them, he was similarly dressed, besides a long, flowing cape of the same variety the Patriarch had worn. It refracted light, drawing his eye as the Borealan walked towards them.
	He greeted Xhe in the native dialect, and she replied, gesturing to Dennis as they talked. He waited patiently, trying not to fidget in his two piece suit as the humidity nagged at him. After a moment Xhe translated for him.
	“This is the Alpha of the local ranger band, he welcomes you to his village.”	
	“Tell him that I appreciate his hospitality.”
	Xhe translated, and the Alpha examined Dennis, looking him up and down, seemingly not impressed. He gestured to Dennis, and said something to Xhe.
	“He asks if you are fit to enter the jungle.”
	“I don't know, am I?”
	Xhe considered for a moment as the Alpha watched them curiously.
	“Probably.”
	“Thanks for the vote of confidence...” Dennis complained. 
	“It is dangerous, but you will be well protected. These are the best rangers known to us. If you are unsure, I can call it off.”
	“And make me look like a flake? No way, I want to see this jungle for myself.”
	The corners of Xhe's mouth turned up, a rare smile, and she turned back to the Alpha, relaying the conversation to him. He laughed, and pounded his chest with a clenched fist. 
	“The Alpha is pleased.” Xhe commented.
	“Yeah, I got that impression.”
	The Alpha talked with Xhe for a moment in their unintelligible language as Dennis waited, loosening his collar. The heat and humidity were unbearable, his shoes were filling with sweat. The Borealans were no better off, the female he had noticed before was glistening, but they seemed to be used to it. They were certainly dressed for their environment, or rather, not dressed.
	“The rangers have been tracking a powerful native animal, if you would to see it, they must leave immediately.”
	“A powerful animal? What is it?” Dennis asked, intrigued and a little apprehensive. Anything the Borealans considered powerful or dangerous must be monstrous indeed.
	“You couldn't pronounce the name, roughly translated, it is called 'furry shining tree destroyer'. Its coat is highly valued and is used as a material for tailoring fine clothing.”
	What an absurd name, but he was sure it sounded better in the original Borealan.
	“Is what these capes I keep seeing are made from?”
	“Yes.”
	Dennis' eyes lit up, this was exactly what he wanted to see.
	“Let's waste no time, then! Onward!” He exclaimed, pointing towards the treeline beyond the small settlement. His gesture needed no translation, and the group of hunters holstered their weapons on slings over their shoulders and began to move. They weren't XMRs, but some kind of native rifle design. They had long, ornate barrels and what looked like a straight pull bolt, they must be some kind of high powered, single shot weapons, likely using a chemical propellant. They were antiques, but their sheer size was intimidating, they looked like they could throw massive slugs. 
	There were five ranger in all, each carrying a rifle and clad in similarly revealing, almost tribal garb. Xhe and Dennis followed behind them as they fanned out into a line formation. The Alpha said something to Xhe, and she translated for Dennis.
	“He says to stay close to Yuta, she is their best shot. She will protect you.”
	“Which one is Yuta?” He asked. Xhe pointed to the raven haired female he had seen earlier, the layer of sweat on her skin reflecting the sunlight. Dennis hurried over, taking up position behind her, and kept his eyes on the jungle, trying to avoid looking at her shapely posterior as she marched ahead of him.

	Dennis pushed through the undergrowth clumsily, trying to keep pace with Xhe and Yuta. Despite wearing what looked like a goddamned ball gown, Xhe was striding through the jungle, hopping deftly over roots and plants with her slender legs. Yuta moved as silently as a stalking tiger, and hadn't said a single word since they had entered the treeline. Dennis tripped and stumbled, his dress shoes were woefully unsuited to the task of trekking through thick jungles. He did own a pair of hiking boots, but they were sitting in a wardrobe in his apartment back on Earth. He had expected the most trying situation he would find himself in to be a board meeting. The roots rose out of the ground, requiring him to clamber over them, and the plants came in all kinds of odd shapes and colors. He didn't know if any were poisonous, and what might poison a Borealan wouldn't necessarily poison a human. He was starting to regret this latest escapade. None of the other rangers were in view, they had spread out to cover as much ground as possible as they stalked this bizarrely named animal. 
	Dennis slapped at a fat insect that had landed on his arm, the damned things were everywhere, and Yuta turned to shush him, putting a clawed finger to her lips. He wiped bug goo on his pants leg, doing his best to stay quiet. They had been traipsing through this humid hell for at least half an hour, where was this target that was supposedly so close? He gaped up at the canopy, towering above them. Shafts of harsh light penetrated between the leaves, but it was gloomy, and a little cooler than being in direct sunlight, that was a plus. The humidity was killing him though. He wiped his forehead with his orange tie, he had been forced to throw the red one away because...well, let's just say Cola did not wash out easily.
	A snake dropped on Dennis.
	He yelped and froze, Xhe and Yuta turned to look at him, and seeing the reptile hanging across his shoulders, Yuta rushed over to him. She lay down her weapon gingerly and reached her clawed hands out to pick up the creature. It was long and sapphire blue, its winding body coiling around his neck. It wasn't a snake, not quite, it had dozens of stubby legs, like a centipede. She hefted it in her hands and it hung between them, scrabbling its tiny limbs in the air. It didn't seem to have a head. 
	Yuta placed it gently on the ground, and it shot away faster than Dennis' eyes could track it.
	Dennis adjusted his tie nervously, his hand shaking.
	Yuta hissed something in Borealan, and walked away from him, resuming her tracking. 
	“It is harmless.” Xhe said, her tone slightly mocking. Dennis fumed.
	“Well how was I to know that? Looks like a goddamned snake to me.”
	He trotted up beside Xhe, trying to compose himself.
	“What is a snake?” She asked him.
	“A long, brightly colored reptile from Earth, very venomous.”
	“That animal was a...'blue as the sky many legs', I'm sorry, very little can be directly translated from Borealan to English.”
	Dennis chuckled, his fear of the creature evaporating, who could be afraid of something with such a stupid name?
	“I get the impression Yuta doesn't think much of me.”
	Xhe eyed him curiously.
	“Why would you care?”
	He shrugged.
	“No reason.”
	“As I told you in the shuttle, many Borealans consider rangers to be antisocial, they spend their whole lives in the jungles, only emerging to trade furs and exotic meats. Above all they value self-sufficiency and hardiness.”
	“Well that rules me out...” Dennis muttered.
	“Ambassador, why do you value the opinions of those of lower social standing? Must everyone approve of you in order for you to be satisfied? What does it matter if Yuta does not respect you? She will obey or she will be punished.”
	“Maybe it's just a human thing.” Dennis said, as he crawled awkwardly over a protruding root. “On Earth we have this thing called democracy, it's a political system, but also kind of an ideology where the opinion of each individual matters and is taken into account. Doesn't matter if you're rich, poor, weak, powerful, every person gets their say. We tend to care what people think, their opinion of us. It's kind of jarring to me, the way you dismiss people offhand.”
	“You sound like you don't approve.” Xhe replied, an accusatory tone in her voice.
	“I wouldn't presume to know what is best for Borealans, but do you really just see Yuta, and anyone below your rank as...somehow of less value?”
	“You misunderstand the concept of a pack, Ambassador. If I am the hand, the pack are my fingers. I do not care to hear the opinion of a finger, the finger must work alongside the others in order to accomplish the task, but what is a hand without fingers? Impotent, useless. Every Borealan has value in our society, everyone had a place.”
	There was a crash in the jungle ahead.
	Yuta put her hand up, waving for them to stay back, and quiet. She unholstered her weapon. Dennis and Xhe crouched, listening intently. Xhe's ears swiveled and twisted in every direction, scanning for sounds.
	Another crash. Angry birds chirped above the canopy, flying towards them, then away over the treetops. There was a loud call, a battle cry like the roar of a lion that echoed through the trees. It was answered by three other voices, then by Yuta, who snarled her reply. Were they positioning eachother? 
	 Something crashed in the forest again, it sounded closer, and Dennis saw the canopy shake above him, raining leaves and twigs. Yuta braced herself against a tree, raising the rifle in her muscular arms and aiming it into the jungle. 
	“It is coming this way...” Xhe whispered, and Dennis felt a twinge of fear in his belly. What was it, some horrific alien monster that would haunt his nightmares? He should never have asked to see the jungle, what an idiot he had been. 
	A huge, dark mass snapped the trees a short distance ahead of them like twigs, splinters flew through the air like shrapnel and the great trees fell, their shattered trunks cracking like gunfire. They crashed through the branches of their neighbors, thudding to the ground and bouncing as it rained debris. Xhe covered Dennis with her body as a torrent of twigs and leaves rained down on them. He felt  her grip on his arm and she pulled him up, hauling him backwards as the sound of rifle shots pierced his ears. Before him a monstrous beast tore through the foliage, as big as an elephant, maybe larger. It had a segmented body like a spider, its comparatively small head perched on the end of a giant, fat abdomen that was covered in beautiful, pearlescent fur that shifted hues as it moved. Its face was peppered with terrible, hooked mandibles that dripped strings of saliva. Dozens of beady, insectoid eyes peered at him, dull and expressionless. It motored its many legs, as stout as the trees it was knocking down, trashing the plants around it and sending up torrents of soil in a furious rampage. 
	It was as if someone had taken an Earth spider and blown it up to terrifying proportions. How could anyone hunt such a monster? 
	As if to answer his question, Yuta pulled back the bolt on her massive rifle, chambering another round. The creature turned to her, its jagged mandibles flexing menacingly, and it lunged, powering through the jungle like a freight train. Nothing could impede it, it smashed through trees and tore up roots as if they were made of paper. Yuta stood firm, aiming her rifle, the great beast was going to squash her!
	A shot rang out through the jungle, and the monster was felled, dropping as if someone had pulled out a rug from under it and skidding to a halt on its face, its long legs twitching grotesquely. Running on pure adrenaline, Dennis broke free of Xhe's grip and jogged over to Yuta, the barrel of her gun trailed black smoke. She let out another call that was answered by the rest of the pack, much closer now, they must be running towards her position.
	Dennis gazed at the dead creature, it was even more enormous up close. Its whole body was covered in the soft, downy fur he had so admired on the Patriarch's cape. Even its segmented legs, which still twitched reflexively. He felt no urge to check its pulse, its head had been destroyed by a well placed round from Yuta's rifle. Vomit colored goop oozed from a wound that looked like a small explosion had gone off, blowing away one side of its face. 
	His heart was pounding like a drum, he was afraid, but excited, he had never seen anything like this before. He was not an outdoorsy person, he wasn't even good at fishing. To see such a monster dispatched up close was incredible, invigorating. 
	“You're amazing!” He exclaimed to Yuta, who recoiled at his outburst, confused by his alien speech. “Xhe! Did you see that!? Right in the fucking head!”
	“I saw.” She replied, walking over to them. 
	Dennis reached out a hand and touched its head gingerly, it was still warm, the downy fur felt like cat hair, soft and fine. As he stroked the fur, the shifting hues mesmerized him, blues, greens and browns refracted the shafts of light that penetrated the canopy.
	“It needs an English name.” Dennis decided. “Rainbow spider!”
	“Do you like it?” Xhe asked him. He turned to her, eyes wide.
	“This is the most incredible creature I've ever seen! I can't believe you hunt animals like this. It looks big enough to eat an elephant.”
	“I will have you a cape commissioned from its fur, you are small, it would not require much material.”
	Dennis thought for a moment, standing over the felled creature with his arms crossed.
	“I have a better idea, if I gave you a necktie, could you reproduce it with rainbow spider fur?”
	“Most likely.”
	Dennis grinned. That would impress the Patriarch and his brood at the upcoming banquet.

	They traipsed back through the jungle, but now the humidity hardly bothered Dennis, he was electrified, he felt alive. Maybe he had a thing for hunting, it was the most fun he had had in years. He hopped deftly over roots and shrubs, trailing after Yuta and Xhe. Now that the hunt was over the other Borealans in the pack had made their way back to the village on their own. If he had to guess, the rainbow spider had a large territory, just like many apex predators on Earth. There shouldn't be any danger of running into other critters. 
	“How will they get the carcass back to the village?” Dennis asked. 
	“They will cut it into segments, the head and legs can be detached and carried back, but the abdomen must be skinned here, it is too large to move.”
	They cleared the jungle, emerging past the ancient, gnarled trunks and into the harsh light. The heat hit him like a physical barrier, it really was cooler under the canopy. Yuta called out to the village, perhaps indicating a successful hunt. The group moved into what looked like a large longhouse built from wood, in the same style as the fishing village. Monstrous skulls and bones decorated its awnings, and there were two huge femurs that lay upright on either side of the door. They looked to Dennis like replicas of dinosaur fossils, but they must have come from a real, living animal. 
	Yuta entered, and Xhe ushered him inside after her, closing the door behind her. There was a long wooden table that ran down the center of the building that looked as if it may have been hewn from the trunk of a single, gigantic tree. Chandeliers with candles hung from the roof, illuminating the space in a yellow, flickering glow, casting shadows in the gloom. Dennis guessed that they did not have access to electricity out in the jungle, but could they not improvise solar panels, or even use a portable generator? Was it a conscious choice on the part of the rangers to reject modern technology? Xhe had suggested that they chose to distance themselves from the larger Borealan civilization, perhaps they were the Borealan equivalent of homesteaders or survivalists? 
	Dozens of rangers were seated at the table, Xhe and Yuta sat, and Dennis hopped up on a stool between them. 
	“What's happening now?” He whispered to Xhe.
	“They are feasting in honor of the successful hunt. The...rainbow spider, is revered in ancient Borealan culture as an avatar of power and strength. When one is killed, it is tradition to consume the meat in order to gain its power. Of course, nobody truly believes that in the modern era, but traditions are hardy and live on.”
	At the head of the table was the Alpha who had greeted Xhe when they had arrived, he was seated in a veritable throne, a wooden frame decorated with ribs, feathers and skulls. The door was flung open, and two Borealans dragged a giant, hairy leg through the entrance. They heaved it up onto the table, slamming it down on the polished surface. It still twitched and leaked viscous goo.
	The color drained from Dennis' face at the grotesque sight. One of the Borealans who had dragged it inside unsheathed a curved knife from his waistband, and leaned over to cut a piece of wet, oozing meat from the limb with the crescent blade. It looked vile, it oozed orange-green ichor and was raw and moist, juices dripping from its spongy flesh. The Borealan walked up the length of the table and handed the chunk of meat to the Alpha, bowing in reverence. The leader stood, lifting the meat to his lips and taking a huge, wet bite with his sharp teeth. He chewed, mulling the flavor, then swallowed heavily. He declared something to the table and they cheered, reaching towards the center to pull away pieces of flesh. Yuta lunged, digging her curved claws into the meat and pulling it away in handfuls, while Xhe was a little more dainty, picking away two pieces. One for her, and one for Dennis.
	She dropped it on the table in front of him, and it splashed his suit in fluid, jiggling like jello as it settled. 
	“Humans can't digest raw meat!” Dennis hissed at Xhe, and she shrugged, chewing the spider meat as orange liquid dripped from her lips. 
	“If you care so much what people think of you.” She mumbled through a mouthful of flesh, “then eat it, if you don't care what they think of you, then don't. They can't force you.”
	Dennis considered, eyeing the unappetizing hunk of meat warily. What if it made him ill? Despite the fact that it was raw, he knew very well that the diet of the average Borealan was not inedible to a human, thanks to his tourist guide. It lacked nutritional value required for humans to be healthy in the long term, but they didn't eat or drink anything that was poisonous to him. 
	Oh well, he wouldn't get anywhere on Borealis by shying away from new experiences.
	He lifted the chunk of meat in his hands and sank his teeth into it, Yuta looked on approvingly and Xhe let slip a smirk. The fowl juice filled his mouth, and the flesh was rubbery and wet, not at all palatable to a human. He chewed, trying to keep the greasy meat down as the Borealans around him dug in. Dennis gave up half way through the chunk, but he had tasted it, that was enough. The Borealans had almost stripped the limb clean before long, it had an internal skeleton unlike any of the arachnids or insects from Earth that it resembled, and the jointed bone lay on the table in a pool of congealing fluid. After a while the Alpha called in more Borealans from a back room that was sectioned off from the main hall, it must have been a kitchen, or some other food preparation area, because they brought out trays covered with assorted meats and gourds. It seemed that the spider leg was only the appetizer, or a ritual that must be completed before the feast could begin in earnest. 
	The waiters, because that's what they obviously were, placed the trays in the middle of the table, and the Borealans waited until every dish was in sight before beginning their meal. It was a free for all, they grabbed slabs of meat and odd, bloated gourds in a frenzy, yet there was enough for everyone. Despite the speed at which they claimed their food, no one Borealan took more than their share. There was a complex social hierarchy here that was way over Dennis' head. He allowed Xhe to pick out food for him, worrying that he might upset this careful balance, and she placed meat before him that she thought he might like. This meat was cooked, thankfully, and it looked good, he picked up something that resembled a shank of ham, but the meat was darker and juicier. His bit into it, pulling away a mouthful in his teeth and chewed. Human cooked meat would be sweeter than this, perhaps flavored with barbecue sauce, this was salty and oily, as his guide had described. But it was good, the texture of the meat was exemplary, it was tender and soft, practically falling off the bone. 
	Again he was amazed at the portions the Borealans ate, their calorific intake must be four or five times that of a human, growing exponentially with their size and muscle mass. This one shank alone would be a meal for him, yet they were piling up stacks of meat, tearing into it with a hunger and ferocity that reminded him vaguely of Cola's attitude towards sex. Get as much as you can, while you can...
	The food was basic, but well cooked, and he leaned on the table after finishing his share, his belly full and heavy. Yuta had eaten an incredible amount, several kilograms of meat in one sitting, and she looked about ready to pass out, as did everyone else. Xhe had not gorged herself, and was still relatively alert. 
	One by one the rangers left the table to sleep on fur rugs towards the walls of the longhouse, lying down either alone or in piles. Xhe stood, stretching her long body, muscles flexing under her revealing dress. 
	“It would be polite to leave now, are you satisfied with your jungle outing?”
	“Yes, thank you Xhe. Today was the most fun I've had in a while.”
	 She nodded, and began to walk back to the door. Dennis trailed after her, being careful not to step on a sleeping Borealan's tail. They made their way out of the ornate longhouse, and back over to where the shuttle was sitting, again the pilot had remained with it during the entire day. Dennis was starting to feel bad for him, but it must be part of his job. Shuttles after all were still a rarity on this planet. As the shuttle rose and banked over the village, Dennis reflected on what he had learned of the Borealan culture. Despite the race to modernize in the crowded cities, there were still a significant number, perhaps even the majority of the population who were still living rustic and quasi-tribal lifestyles. If the Patriarch did not take steps to include them in his projects, they ran the risk of being left behind. Buying starships was all well and good, but bringing electricity and plumbing to remote villages was more important for the long term development of the planet. Perhaps he would bring it up with him some day, the Patriarch seemed very open to new ideas, especially when they came from the aliens he strived to emulate. 
	The day had taken its toll on Dennis, he was tired, his muscles and joints ached from romping around in the high gravity, but he felt strangely fulfilled, and it wasn't just the shank talking. The hunting trip had been exciting, he had solved the mystery of the pearlescent capes and he had overcome a challenge by eating the disgusting spider meat. When his new tie was ready he would wear it with pride. He imagined the faces of his colleagues back on Earth when they learned that the fur had come from a giant spider monster he had seen dispatched before his very eyes. He relaxed into the seat, closing his eyes as the shuttle drifted lazily over the lake.

CHAPTER 5: BANQUET
	
	Dennis adjusted his new tie, the downy, shining fur standing out brilliantly against his black suit. It was the focal point of the outfit, a uniquely Borealan touch to a human style that conveyed status as much as sophistication. The rainbow spider fur was worn only by those of high standing in the Borealan culture. His participation in the hunt, (however passive it had been) and his position as ambassador to Earth qualified him to wear it. He turned to Xhe, who was standing behind him as he preened in front of the mirror.       
	“How do I look?”
	“It is appropriate.” She replied, appraising his tie. “I do believe you are the first human to wear this fur.” 
	Dennis beamed, and polished the UN badge on his lapel. The Patriarch had finally requested his presence at a great banquet to be held in the ivory spire, one day before the eclipse came and the planet fell into winter. Xhe would be attending as his aide and translator, although the Patriarch spoke good English, many of the regents and alphas who would be dining with them did not. Xhe was dressed in her usual flowing, transparent dress, indicating that there were no situations in which she did not want to look her best, be it attending a banquet with the Patriarch or trekking through a muddy jungle. 
	“I have one more thing for you.” Xhe said, reaching into a small bag that sat on the dresser. She withdrew something wrapped in a mauve cloth. She handed it to Dennis and he peeled the fabric back to reveal a set of shining silverware. A fork, a knife and two sizes of spoon, their handles elaborately decorated. His eyes lit up.
	“Where on Earth did you find these? Er, sorry, it's an expression. I mean where did you get them?”
	“As I had suspected, some of the cargo offloaded from an old UNN ship that my lord Patriarch had purchased some time ago included these items, they had been languishing in storage. Borealans have no need of cutlery, nobody who saw them knew what their purpose was, and so they were confined to a warehouse. Fortunately, after I put out the request, one of the warehouse managers came forward and informed me that he had seen tools matching the description. It was a simple matter to locate and procure them.”
	“Xhe if I could reach, I'd hug you.”
	Dennis had everything he needed to represent humanity, a snappy suit, a fine tie, appropriate silverware and topics of conversation. He was ready. He retrieved the stasis unit containing the Kobe beef from his belongings, and hefting it under his arm, followed Xhe out of the door. 
	
	The pair were admitted by elite guards clad in red armor, and ascended the winding staircase of the tower. On Earth Dennis had worked on the eighty-second floor of a skyscraper, even under the crushing gravity, a six floor climb was not a big deal. They reached the top floor, and were admitted to a grand dining hall through two giant doors made from dark, varnished wood. 
	It appeared to be a gigantic, open balcony. The expansive room was open to the air, Dennis could see heavy wooden shutters that had been raised between the marble pillars that supported the roof, it looked as if they could be closed in the winter to insulate the room. The view was incredible, towering above the city, the domed rooftops and arches extended in every direction as far as the eye could see. In the middle of the room was a great table, clearly carved from a single towering tree, similar to the one from the ranger longhouse, but larger and more elaborately carved. Each leg that held it up had been carefully sculpted into the pawed leg of a Borealan, complete with textured fur and pointed claws. The surface was patterned with the natural curves and lines of the original tree, polished as smooth as glass. The stools that seated the Patriarch's guests were no less elaborate, Borealans seemed to dislike chairs, perhaps because it constrained their tails? 
	The walls were decorated with curtains made from fine cloth, and beautifully embroidered tapestries displaying scenes of war and hunting, some of which looked extremely old. Dennis smiled as he noticed a depiction of a rainbow spider, woven in silver thread, perhaps from the very fur of the animal itself. It was surrounded by small figures brandishing spears, or maybe glaives as they challenged it. Ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling along the length of the table, though unlike the ones from the longhouse, these were electric, colorful gems hung from their arms on the ends of delicate chains. There was a large banner placed behind the throne at the head of the table, it was the first time he had really noticed Borealan script. The writing was curved and halting, like claw marks in sand, which may very well have been how it originated. He couldn't guess at what it meant, but the significance of its placement was obvious. The Patriarch sat in his throne, a wooden base with a tall, baroque headboard that extended far into the air above his head, gilded with rare metals, jewels and the bones of fell beasts. It was a statement, this was the seat of the Patriarch, at the head of the table as he was at the head of Elysia, and perhaps the whole planet. 
	Along the length of the great table were seated dignitaries, alphas, regents, and who knew what else, each more elaborately dressed than the last. Their clothing and finery blended with their diverse patterns and pigments to dazzle Dennis. All eyes were on him as he waited patiently to be seated.
	“Ah, our Ambassador has arrived at last, along with his beautiful secretary. Please, take a seat at the table.” The Patriarch's baritone reverberated through the room, and Dennis pulled up a stool, hopping up awkwardly at the far end of the table, and Xhe seated herself beside him.
	“I will translate anything that is said, please rely on me.” She whispered into his ear, and Dennis nodded.
	The Patriarch continued to speak, his loud voice echoing in the space, and Xhe translated for his benefit. He gestured towards Dennis with his claws, tipped with golden thimbles.
	“May I introduce you all to Ambassador Carlisle, our envoy from the Earth territory. He is lubricating the gears of the relationship between Earth and Elysia, so to speak. He has been touring our territory and immersing himself in our culture for the last several days.”
	Dennis noted that he had said 'Elysia', and not 'Borealis', that meant there were representatives from the other territories here today, and that the Patriarch was using him as a status symbol to flaunt his influence with the Coalition. He should play along, Earth's business was with Elysiedde, not these other, less influential rulers.
	“And what a territory it is!” Dennis interjected. The Patriarch smiled, and allowed him to continue. “From the modern, cosmopolitan city, to the picturesque lakeside villages, to the rugged jungle outposts, I have been very impressed with what I have seen so far. The Elysian people are of noble character wherever I find myself.” Xhe translated for the benefit of the other Borealans, and the Patriarch puffed his chest with pride.
	“A valid assessment, if I say so myself.” He pointed a golden tipped claw at Dennis, his eyes dropping below his face to his collar. “Is that what it looks like, Ambassador? Have you been hunting with our rangers?”
	Dennis lifted his tie, the silver fur refracting light into shades of blues and greens as he held it aloft for the Patriarch to see. There was mumbling amongst the other guests, good, as Dennis had hoped, they were impressed. The Borealans were a tribal people, earning their respect as an individual meant earning respect for his tribe, which in this case meant the UN. With some careful political maneuvering he could raise Earth's standing and importance in the eyes of these aliens, which might result in more favorable defensive pacts and trade contracts. This was where Dennis excelled, he was in his element.
	“I can't take credit for bringing the beast down, but it was killed mere feet from me, as it charged our position. I've never seen a creature so large, it snapped trees like they were toothpicks.”
	“Did you...partake of the meat?” Asked an unnamed guest, struggling to pronounce the English words. He looked older, his red hair way greying and his was stooped over the table.
	“I did.”
	More muttering, all according to his plan.
	“Well!” The Patriarch exclaimed, “I can see that when you told me you wanted to experience our culture you were sincere, venturing into the jungle and taking part in a hunt is no half measure.”
	“The Elysian rangers are unparalleled hunters, I've never seen anything of the like.”
	The Patriarch, who was clearly enjoying himself, nodded appreciatively. He expected Dennis to extol the virtues of Elysian society, and that is what he would do. The Patriarch continued.
	“I must say, Ambassador, you wear the fur well. I had thought human fashions were dull and simplistic, but you used the blandness of the surrounding clothing to draw attention to the fur and create a focal point. It is an alien style, but an attractive one.”
	Dennis had no idea that fashion would be discussed at a diplomatic gathering, but judging by the elaborate and ornate clothing the Borealans were wearing, it had a cultural significance that transcended simply looking presentable. 
	“Thank you, Patriarch.”
	“Where are my manners.” He waved a hand to his right. “Down this side of the table are seated the rulers of the other eight Borealan territories, and to my left are some notable Alphas and public figures. The main reason I convene these banquets is so that we might strengthen ties and share news on what is happening in our respective sphere of influence.”
	Dennis noted that none of the other territorial leaders were as finely dressed as the Patriarch, nor were they afforded  the same level of respect, he had not even introduced them individually. Based on the knowledge of Borealan society that Dennis had garnered from his travels, he concluded that they were not on equal terms, and that the Patriarch had declared himself as the strongest among them, with seemingly no opposition. Earth had chosen her ally wisely, and if the Patriarch was given access to more ships and technology, he would surely remain safely ahead of the other regions. He would make sure to relay his observations to the UN. 
	
	The Borealans chatted about regional issues and inter-territorial disputes as Dennis sat with one ear to Xhe, she translated anything she thought was of significance. He resolved to learn at least a passing understanding of the language for future meetings, lest Xhe miss important details that would stand out to a more seasoned politician. 
	As the casual conversations went on, the Patriarch called for the food, and the table quietened as waiters brought out innumerable platters of meats and fish, placing them on the polished table. Dennis had never seen so much food in one place before, entire roasted carcasses of animals he was not familiar with, stacks of choice cuts, shredded and pulled meats, fish of all shapes and sizes, his mouth watered at the smell. He suddenly remember the stasis unit he had placed on the floor beside his chair, and cleared his throat to get the attention of the Patriarch.
	“My lord Patriarch, I have brought with me a gift from Earth.” He rose from his seat and retrieved the glass box, walking down the length of the table in order to present it to the seated Patriarch. The Borealan picked it up in his massive hands and examined it, his gold plated claws clicking against the glass. 
	“What is it?”
	“This is the rarest and most prized of all the meat Earth produces. It is known as Kobe, and it comes from the Japanese territory. The livestock are massaged every day to keep their meat tender, and they are fed a special diet in order to influence their flavor. If you would like to eat it today, I have some ideas on how the meat should be prepared so as to maximize its flavor for the Borealan palate. The glass box is a stasis unit, the meat is suspended in a particle field that slows time almost to a stop, so that the contents will stay fresh on long journeys.”
	As Dennis had hoped, the Patriarch was as impressed by the technology as by the meat, and his eyes glazed over in wonder as he turned the box over in his hands.
	“No need to return the stasis unit.” Dennis added.
	“A fine gift!” The Patriarch exclaimed. “You please me, Ambassador. By all means, deliver your instructions to the cooks, and I will sample this 'Japan Kobe' today.”
	Dennis bowed, and returned to his seat, and explained the cooking process to Xhe. 
	“It should be grilled over a wood fire, the meat should be rare, that means red and moist on the inside. Understand?” 
	Xhe nodded and left her seat, heading to the kitchen. 
	Dennis knew to wait for the Patriarch to choose the first cut, and he hovered over a platter, examining the slabs of juicy meat. He hooked on large chunk in his claw, and brought it to his mouth, severing a large mouthful with his sharp teeth. He chewed contentedly, savoring it.
	At this signal the rest of the Borealans dug in, piling mounds of fish, meat and gourds onto their wide plates. Dennis retrieved his cutlery from his pocket, and used the fork to select choice cuts of meat and fish. The Borealans watched him curiously as he used the knife to cut the meat into edible strips. He chewed happily, although Borealan food lacked much of the sweetness that humans craved, he was able to pick up on some of the more subtle savory flavors, the salty, oily meat was expertly cooked. He found himself more drawn to the fish than the meat, especially the shark like creature he had so enjoyed on the pebble beach by the fishing village. He wondered idly if it had come from there, or some other village that bordered the lake. 
	He noticed that a few of the Borealans seated at the table were using small, unlabeled spray bottles to coat the meat with oils, just as his guide had described. Dennis would kill for some barbecue sauce, but alas he had not thought to bring any. Xhe returned from the kitchen and sat beside him, whispering that the Kobe beef was being prepared as he had instructed. She retrieved some meat for herself, a far larger amount than she had eaten in the longhouse. She noticed him staring.
	“Tomorrow is the start of the eclipse, these banquets are traditionally held on the day, or slightly before. Borealans enter a state of low metabolic activity during the winter period, so many prefer to eat heartily before the cold comes, and then sleep until the primary star returns.”    
	“What can you tell me about her?” Dennis asked, pointing towards one of the Borealans seated with the territorial leaders. Her appearance was odd, he had assumed that she had a strange skin pigmentation, but as his eyes kept being drawn back to her, he had noticed that she was actually covered in a layer of short fur across her whole body. All of the Borealans he had seen so far were naked besides the head, tail and feet, but this one had downy fur on its face and body too. Its fur was snow white, complete with black patterning like a leopard that extended beyond the borders that patterning on the 'naked' Borealans usually respected. She was clad in clothing of a style notably different from the others, very light and airy, the colors almost monochrome.
	“That is the Regent of the Polar territory.” Xhe answered. “In our evolutionary past, all Borealans had fur, like her. As we began to take shelter in caves, and later dwellings during the winter period, we lost the fur that insulated us. It was more beneficial to Borealans living in the desert to shed heat during the hot period that accounts for most of the month than to retain it during the shorter cold periods. That wasn't the case for those who lived in the polar regions of the planet, they retained their fur coats into the modern era, for obvious evolutionary reasons. They rarely leave the polar territory because they cannot tolerate the heat, they only venture beyond its borders when the eclipse comes.”
	“So they're a sub-species of Borealan?”
	“More of a race, or a breed.”
	Dennis eyed her curiously, he wondered what life was like in the polar territory, maybe he should request a tour some time. 
	His thought was interrupted by the Kobe being brought into the dining hall on a small platter. The Patriarch clapped his massive hands in anticipation as the waiter brought it over to him, placing the meat on the table. It was a little small compared to what the Borealans commonly ate, but he hoped that the Patriarch would appreciate it as a delicacy.
	He grinned at Dennis, then hooked the meat gently in his golden claws, examining it closely. He sniffed it, then his eyes lit up, and his textured tongue reached out to graze the surface. He followed with a small bite, rolling the meat in his mouth and savoring the flavor and texture. Dennis could see that it had been cooked to perfection, Xhe and the cooks had done an admirable job. Stripes of red, rare flesh line the inside, and it dripped juice onto the platter. 
	“Oh! I have to eat it slowly, I don't want this to be over too quickly!” He chuckled, and the guests murmured their understanding. He took dainty bites, clearly enjoying the morsel. It didn't take him long to down the whole cut, and he licked his lips, and picked his teeth with his sharp, ornate claws.
	“Well, that was a treat, Ambassador. You may tell your Japan territory that they have a new client.”
	Dennis smiled and bowed his head.
	“I'm sure they will be honored to provide you with their finest cuts, Patriarch.”	
	“More and more I am glad to have made the decision to ally Borealis with the Coalition. Don't you agree that this was the correct course of action, Regent Tarsas?”
	He directed the question towards a stout male Borealan with black hair and fine clothing, who lowered his eyes, clearly repressing the desire to disagree. 
	“Of course, my lord Patriarch.” He hissed in the Borealan dialect.
	“Tarsas over here,” the Patriarch continued, now in English, “didn't believe that we should ally ourselves with the Coalition, he wanted the planet to remain isolationist.” He scoffed. “Now Borealis has a starship fleet, modern weapons and armor, and we have opened up trade between half a dozen member species. Elysia is booming like never before. Our soldiers are recognized by everyone as the best in the galaxy and are specially requested for all manner of tasks, my own daughter has told me as much herself. She is the Matriarch of the Pinwheel space station, in charge of all Borealans who pass through their training programs.”
	“Indeed Patriarch, I have heard rumors and stories about the exploits of Miss Elysiedde, it appears she is becoming quite famous.”
	The Patriarch looked a little concerned, his face falling.
	“Rumors, you say?”
	“All positive, I assure you, Patriarch.”
	“Of course, of course...” He laughed, returning to his jovial state. “Any Borealan a human interacts with, my daughter has likely trained, she has a wonderful temperament you know, ever since she was a child. Not unlike Secretary Xhe over here.” He waved his hand in her direction. “Incredible patience, I can't understand it myself.”
	  Xhe bowed her head in deference. 
	“I serve my lord Patriarch in all matters.”
	“Indeed you do, and don't think I don't appreciate your service, running our little Ambassador all over the territory. I will ensure you are rewarded appropriately.”
	One of the Borealans seated to the left spoke up, his auburn hair an incredible display of feathers and jewels, this one looked tribal, similar to the ones he had met at the jungle outpost. He spoke in Borealan, and Xhe translated for Dennis.
	“Tell me if you would, Ambassador, but I have heard rumors that despite being of smaller stature and strength, humans do not in fact confine themselves to their starships, but serve in military engagements alongside Borealan troops, is this correct?”
	“Indeed.” He replied, with Xhe as his intermediary. “Human soldiers are quite competent, the use of advanced weaponry makes up for our lesser physical strength. Our soldiers make excellent marksman and work well in small units.” 
	“Remarkable, I would never have imagined.” The Borealan replied, returning to his meal.
	“Of course, the UNN is incorporating more and more Krell and Borealans into their mixed units, their battlefield prowess is unmatched, so I am told.” Dennis added.
	The Borealans nodded appreciatively and muttered affirmations, that seemed to have pleased them.  
	“I met a Krell once.” The older Borealan added, “as large as a Borealan, but they stoop you see, so they don't look very tall. Once you get near one however, you realize that from head to tail they're quite massive. Heavy too, they wouldn't fare well on Borealis, that's for sure. Agreeable beasts though, I never saw one so much as argue.”
	 
	And so the conversation went on long into the night, the Borealans feasted and quizzed Dennis on many aspects of human civilian and military life, what he thought about their planet, and how he saw the political relationship between the UN and Borealis evolving. He did his best to answer them, the concept that he was himself a civilian was hard for them to understand, because all of the humans they had ever interacted with before him had been UNN personnel, Navy pilots and marines. His descriptions of towering skyscrapers in the relatively low gravity of Earth, and the slingshot systems used to launch ships from Luna and Mars enthralled them. The Patriarch was especially interested to hear about the classes and capabilities of modern UNN ships, his knowledge was impressive and Dennis enjoyed indulging him, being no expert himself, but having access to more recent news reports and information. 
	Eventually the hour grew too late, and the Patriarch rose to dismiss his guests as they sipped the same alcoholic beverage Dennis had so enjoyed with Chaka in the tavern. The guests all wished to say their goodbyes, it seemed they had enjoyed his company, all besides Regent Tarsas, who was surly and unfriendly. He left first, without properly excusing himself. It was clear to Dennis that this was an alliance that Tarsas did not approve of, and he might even be a xenophobe. 
	The Borealans laughed, shaking his hand one by one in the Earth tradition he had described to them, until he reached the regent of the polar territory. She took his small hand in her giant, furry grip and shook it. Her fur was soft and fleecy, oddly inviting to the touch. 
	“I have enjoyed your company, Ambassador.” She said in rather good English. “I hope that we will meet again soon.”
	He nodded.
	“And I too, Regent. I'm very curious about your territory, I may attempt to arrange a visit.”
	“You would be welcome, until next time.” Her hand left his, and she strode out of the room, her white coat shone under the electric lights and her long tail snaked behind her. 
	“An exemplary performance, Ambassador.” The Patriarch commented. “You were the life of the banquet, I knew it would go down well with the Regents.”
	 “Well, you have interesting friends, Patriarch. I have enjoyed myself, I want to thank you again for including me.” Dennis was only half sincere, he had indeed had a great time, but he knew that the real reason he was here was so that the Patriarch could score points with the rulers of rival territories. They did seem subservient to him, their title of Regent, rather than Patriarch or Matriarch implied that they were merely governing the territory in his stead, rather than ruling as his equals. Tarsas had seemed especially resentful of the demeaning title, but such was life for Borealans. He certainly didn't seem ready or willing to challenge the ruler.
	“I hope you are prepared for the eclipse, Ambassador. I trust Xhe will help you stock food and ensure you have warm clothing. Much of the city will shut down over the next few days, many services will not be available.”
	“I keep hearing about this eclipse, I'm eager to see it. Our planet has eclipses too, but very rarely, it happens when our satellite, Luna, covers our star. Their size and distance are such that the moon can cover it almost perfectly.”
	“Now that is remarkable.” The Patriarch laughed heartily. “There are some strange things out there in the galaxy.”
	Xhe and Dennis said a respectful goodbye to the Patriarch, then descended the stairs past the crimson guards, eventually finding themselves at the door to the embassy. 
	“A successful evening, I imagine.” Xhe commented, looking down at Dennis.
	“Yes, that went about as well as it could have. This is my job, Xhe, this is what I was trained for, what I'm good at.”
	“It shows, Ambassador.”
	They entered the building and went to their respective rooms, both eager to sleep off their meal.

CHAPTER 6: ICE QUEEN

	Dennis was awoken by Xhe tapping on his door.
	“Ambassador, I'm sorry to wake you early, but the Polar Regent is here to see you.”
	He stumbled out of bed, bleary eyed.
	“The Polar Regent? What does she want?”
	“She has not said, and I lack the authority to ask her.”
	“Very well, give me a moment to get dressed.”
	Dennis flung on a suit, and his now signature fur tie, and stepped out of his bedroom. In the marble hall, the Polar Regent was stood expectantly, along with two guards flanking her. They were of the same Polar race, the patterning and coloration of their fur mirroring hers. Unlike the elite guards who protected the Patriarch, they wore no combat armor, and they were armed with intimidating, ornate glaives rather than XMRs. It hit Dennis that this planet was not unified like Earth, each region might have a totally different culture to the others, and Elysia was only a small fragment of a greater whole. 
	“Is there something I can help you with, Regent?”
	“The eclipse will be occurring soon, the desert Borealans will be entering a state of lethargy. To the Polar Borealans, the cold is mild and not unlike that of our home territory, so we will be mostly active during this period. I am told that your species does not experience reduced metabolic activity as a response to cold, and so you would most likely be confined to the embassy during the winter.”
	Dennis nodded, there was nothing to disagree with.
	“I have enjoyed your company, Ambassador, and I appreciate your curiosity. With the permission of your handler, I would request that you join me and my entourage for the period of the eclipse, and I would return you to the embassy when the primary shines again.”
	Dennis glanced at Xhe, she seemed confused, surprised.
	“Do you think it's ok?” He asked.
	“Ambassador, you do not require my permission.” 
	“That's not what I asked.” He replied. 
	She thought for a moment, but Xhe seemed to do poorly when put on the spot, she was all about planning and organization.
	“While I see no harm in it, this is...unorthodox. It is true that you would most likely be bored here during the eclipse, but I would be unable to accompany you.”
	The Regent looked on patiently.
	“I must consult the Patriarch, please excuse me for a moment.” Xhe walked past the Regent and her guards, and entered the office, intending to use the communications device.
	After a couple of minutes of Dennis smiling meekly at the Regent as she waited, Xhe returned.
	“You have his permission, should you want to go.”
	Xhe's attitude was odd, she seemed to be suggesting that he shouldn't go, was she being protective of him? He had learned to value her judgment, but being stuck inside the embassy for three days with nothing to do sounded close to torture.
	“I do.” He replied finally, and Xhe nodded.
	“Excellent.” The Regent clapped her hands together, the sound muffled by her fur. “I think you will find it enlightening, Ambassador.”
	Dennis followed her out of the entrance and into the street.

	Xhe paced, agitated. If there was one person on this entire planet that she didn't trust, it was the Polar Regent. Well, Tarsas was as xenophobic and uncooperative as they come, but he was overt in his dislike of the Patriarch and his human allies. The Polar Regent was crafty. Unlike the equatorial Borealans, the people of the pole were cool headed and slow to act, their anger built over time rather than flaring and being done with. They plotted and schemed, and this visit must be part of some greater plot that wasn't obvious to Xhe yet. She had not been able to warn Dennis in front of the Regent and her guards, and by visiting the embassy in person rather than calling ahead, the Regent had ensured that Xhe would not express her concerns. To do so before someone of such high rank would be a challenge that would see her viciously attacked. She had made the Patriarch aware, but he did not seem concerned, was he growing complacent? There was something afoot, and winter was about to fall, this was the worst time for something like this to happen, and the Polar Regent knew it.

	Dennis jogged a little to keep up with the Polar Regent as her guards flanked them, they marched through the sandstone city, under the arches and past carved pillars and windowless structures. The secondary star was bright in the sky, obscured by the far more luminous primary, but just about visible to the naked eye. He appraised the Regent, admiring her beauty. He had found the fur jarring at first, but now he appreciated its sheen, it was as white as fresh snow, barring the black leopard spots that patterned it. He longed to stroke it, it looked soft, but knew that it wasn't remotely appropriate. She was tall too, larger than the average Borealan, approaching the exaggerated height of the Patriarch and Yuta. It must be a sign of the eugenic breeding practices that high status in Borealan society always implied, the way that Borealans mated, the dominant genes were quickly propelled to the top of the pyramid. The Polar Regent was well bred, that much was immediately obvious, and she had an odd calmness about her that set Dennis at ease. Something about her body language or her temperament that made him less afraid of her than the other Borealans, he felt as if she was somebody he could trust.
	“Tell me, Ambassador,” the Polar Regent crooned, “do you have winters on Earth?”
	“We do indeed, Regent. Our winters last for one quarter of our year, and some regions on our planet remain cold all year round, some inhospitably so.”
	“That sounds pleasant. On Borealis my people are confined to the northern pole for the majority of the year, and can only venture into the equatorial territories when the eclipse comes. The heat is almost intolerable to us, you see.”
	“I can imagine, you have an impressive coat. It resembles many of our arctic species back on Earth.”
	“Oh?” The Regent stopped walking and turned to him, crouching down to eye level. Her chest was huge and distracting, her heavy breasts hung attractively in the thin fabric that contained them, Dennis tried to keep his eyes on her face. She reached out a hand, palm up. There were pads protruding from beneath her white fur, like one might find on a cat or a dog, he assumed so they could grip objects through their insulating coat.
	“Do you like it? You can touch it if you want to.” She smiled warmly, and watched him patiently.
	Dennis reddened, and after a moment of hesitation, reached out a hand and brushed her palm tentatively. She didn't react, she continued to hold her arm out as if trying to entice a wild animal to draw closer. He touched her palm again, this time pressing his fingers deeper into the fur, the fine hair was as soft as velvet, and as his fingertips met the skin beneath, a surprising heat radiated up through his hand. She wasn't joking, she was roasting under that fur, it trapped a layer of heat below the surface similar to how polar bear fur worked. 
	“Wow, yes, exactly like our arctic species.”
	The Regent stood up again, and chuckled. 
	“You needn't contain your curiosity, Ambassador. I respect that quality, I find it is sorely lacking among many of our own people. Exploration is part of your assignment here, after all.”
	Dennis nodded, and followed her as she began to walk again. 
	“So, where are we going...Regent?” He had almost let slip 'your majesty', and that was the impression she gave him, regal and refined in comparison to many of the more brutish Borealans he had met thus far. He reminded himself that she was in fact, the Matriarch of the polar region, a queen if ever there was one, but the title of Regent given to her by the Patriarch was indicative of Elysia's mastery over the other territories. 
	“I'm taking you somewhere we can watch the eclipse. You've never seen one before, I would imagine.”
	“No, I haven't.”
	“There is an observatory in Elysia, it is ancient, useless for actual astronomy in the modern era, but its builders designed it to watch the eclipse in perfect conditions. They believed that the conjunction could tell fortunes, or predict crop failures, and other such primitive and quaint delusions.”
	They walked through the streets, they were mostly deserted now as the population steeled itself for winter, barricading themselves inside their dwellings. Every so often a stray Borealan would pass them, stopping for a moment to stare at the odd sight of a foreigner and an alien wandering the streets. The long walk took them outside the boundaries of the city, and towards an expanse of empty land covered with some species of native grass, a little more blue in color than anything from Earth. Dennis stopped as he saw a hulking creature in the distance, it seemed to be grazing. It was getting darker as the smaller star passed in front of its primary, and the creature's silhouette stood out menacingly, like a gigantic cow with wicked, curved horns. 
	“Don't be afraid.” Said the Regent, her tone soothing, as if talking to a small child. “These are livestock, docile and tame, they won't hurt you. The observatory is on the other side of the grassland, see?” She pointed a clawed finger, and Dennis saw the domed building in the distance.
	“Why is it all the way out here, and not in the city?” He asked.
	“Light pollution, even in the period the observatory was constructed, it was a problem. Out here there is no artificial light to obscure the eclipse.”
	They walked across the field, and Dennis skirted the grazing livestock warily. Despite the Regent's promise that they were tame, they were still very large animals, even a dairy cow could accidentally trample a human. If one charged, a guard would surely cleave it in two with one of their massive glaives. He stuck close to the Regent as they neared the structure.
	It had looked small from far away, but up close it was very large. A wide, squat building with a dome in the roof, built from the same sandstone as the structures in the city. They skirted the edge of the observatory, circling it to find the entrance. They came across the ancient wooden door, and one of the guards stepped forward, pushing it open with a piercing creak, she held it as the group stepped inside.
	“I'm amazed this structure has stood for so long...” The Regent commented, placing her hands on her wide hips and staring around the room. “The masons of old were truly artists.”
	The room was a completely open space, with rows of seats carved from the stone like an auditorium, and in the center a single wooden chair, perched on some kind of rusted gear system. At the center of the dome was a rectangular slot, covered with tinted glass, through which a beam of starlight penetrated, illuminating the seat in a dull glow. 
	Dennis walked over to the wooden seat, running his finger along the armrest, it was coated in a layer of fine dust. He crouched to examine the gears beneath it, they extended into the floor, rusted metal teeth interlocking for some purpose he couldn't discern. 
	“What does it do?” He asked, turning back to the Regent. “Does it still work?”
	“Here, I'll show you.” She said, and walked over to join him in the middle of the room. She circled around the far side of the chair, and climbed into it, leaning back against the wooden headrest. It was angled slightly up, and it was positioned directly blow the rectangular slot in the dome.
	The Regent patted her furry thigh with her hand.
	“Come Ambassador, sit with me. It only seats one, you'll have to share.”
	He walked around to the front of the chair, and she gripped him under the armpits, lifting him into the air and placing him gently on her lap. She was soft, and chubby too. There was muscle underneath, as with all Borealans, but the Polar variety were padded with what must be insulating fat. He didn't know where to put his hands, and so he gripped the armrests on either side of the chair. 
	“Hold on.” The Regent whispered, and she pulled a long lever on the far side of the chair. It tilted back and raised them further off the ground, the ancient gears clanking and crunching as the chair shuddered. When it came to a stop, it was almost horizontal, and Dennis was having a hard time leaning away from her ample chest. 
	“You won't be able to see from there, come here...” She said, and wrapped her huge arms around him, pulling him backwards and pressing him against her breasts. The soft, pliable surface deformed as she pushed his head into her cleavage, and he felt her chest press against his back. They were like two giant, warm, furry pillows, and her heat radiated up through his body. His face reddened, and he tried to focus on the slot, struggling to ignore the mammoth breasts on either side of his head and the arms crossed across his chest. Her delicate fur tickled the back of his neck.
	She pointed at the slot, and he followed her direction. 
	“The hole in the roof is positioned in just such a way that at this stage of the eclipse, the stars are visible through it. Once a day the stars will line up with this hole, and the fortune tellers of old would check its progress to see what they could discern. The ancients plotted the movement of the stars, and the eclipse was an important religious event, as it progresses it will move along the length of the slot.”
	Dennis looked on in wonder as the secondary skirted the edge of the primary, decreasing its luminosity, the tinted glass protecting his eyes from the glare. 
	“As you can see, the secondary star is passing between Borealis and the primary. Its luminosity is much lower, we will experience at least two days of snow, and the surfaces of the lakes will freeze over.”
	“The evergreen jungles, the fish, the spider, everything here is evolved to endure the cold...” Dennis mused. “The strict mother raises disciplined children.”
	“Good! You picked that old adage up?”
	Dennis nodded.
	The Regent held him close, pressing him into her warm, soft body. Her breath tickled his ear as she whispered to him.
	“I think we're going to get along well, you and I.”
	Dennis stayed in her comfortable embrace as they sat and watched the first stage of the eclipse. The Regent's breathing was hypnotic, and her body was like a living bed, her downy fur and squashy fat layer relaxing him and making his eyes heavy. At some point he fell asleep, nestled in her warm cleavage. 

	Dennis awoke to the Regent chuckling and gently shaking him. 
	“Wake up little human, we must leave now. You've been asleep for a while, I didn't want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.” She pulled the lever, and the seat rumbled, moving back into its original position. It was remarkable that the rusted machinery still worked. Dennis hopped off her lap on to the floor, stumbling a little under the high gravity. He was embarrassed that he had fallen asleep on the Regent, it was hardly becoming of a dignitary. 
	“Your face is red.” She raised a hand to her mouth and suppressed a laugh, her long mane bouncing in rhythm. “I don't think you're angry, it must be embarrassment.”
	“I-I didn't mean to fall asleep on you...” Dennis stammered. “You're just very...”
	“Comfortable?” The Regent suggested, her radiant smile turning sly.
	Dennis' face burned. 
	“Come now Ambassador, we must get back to the city before the cold starts to set in. If you find me so comfortable, you may hold my hand if you wish.” She extended her arm towards him, but after a moment of hesitation, he marched towards the door alone.
	“We'd best get going then!”
	The Regent's eyes lingered on him, the gears in her head turning.

	Dennis, the Regent and her guards made their way back to the city across the grassland, the temperature had not started to drop in earnest yet, but it was getting darker. The livestock had begun to huddle in response to the low light, they didn't seem to needs shelter and simply clumped in a pile like emperor penguins. Dennis could sense it in the air, the environment was changing, everything was shutting down, switching off, going to sleep. Even his own body was responding to the change in luminosity, his eyes thought that night was falling and sent the appropriate signals to his brain, telling it to tire. The Regent walked beside him, her long, white tail waving back and forth as she rolled her hips. 
	“So is it always dark and cold at the pole?” Dennis asked.
	“All year round, yes. Not this dark, but we do get less light than the equatorial territories.”
	“Is life there hard?”
	The Regent seemed taken aback by his question, and she had to think for a moment, glancing at him with her ice blue eyes.
	 “I suppose so. We're used to it. Here the food sources are abundant, fish laze in the lakes, grazing beasts roam free, and food grows in the jungles at random. At the poles, the fauna is larger and more aggressive due to the cold, no edible plants grow there, and the fish hide beneath the ice, perfectly adapted to the darkness and freezing temperatures. Hunting is more dangerous, fishing and growing grain requires intellect.”
	She spat intellect as if it were an insult, was she implying that the equatorial Borealans had it easy? What icy hell must her people live in if the heat of Elysia was desirable in comparison? 
	“If you don't mind my asking, Regent, why do you remain there?”
	“My people have lived there for a very long time, long enough to diverge into a distinct race. We are adapted to the cold, we can no longer live comfortably in the deserts. Our insulating fur would cook us alive. Perhaps if we had starships, like Elysia, we could relocate somewhere more hospitable. Alas we lack the means of the Patriarch.”
	They arrived back at the city limits, and their feet met the slabs of hard stone that lined its streets, the Borealan claws clicking on the rock as they walked. 
	“Where are we going now, back to the embassy?” Asked Dennis, they had already seen the eclipse, was there somewhere else in the city she wanted to take him?
	“No, you will sleep at my residence for the duration of the eclipse.” It sounded like a command, not a suggestion, but Dennis didn't mind, anything to get out of the embassy.
	“Your residence? Do you own property here?”
	“Yes, as the Regent of the polar territory, I have a few privileges, one of which is the right to own property in other territories. I stay here during the eclipse, when I am able to travel.”
	They walked a while longer, Dennis was becoming tired and his joints were starting to ache from the strain of so much hiking in the high gravity. He hoped that the 'six months before permanent damage' calculation took into account this much walking. The Regent stopped before a large structure, made from the same sandstone as the surrounding buildings. She pushed open the door, and as he entered behind her, Dennis noticed that much of the roof was open to the air. Some sections of the building were contained, but the small courtyard in the center had no roof or dome. Pillars of white marbled ringed the space, helping support the roof on the insulated sections, and the floor was littered with flowering plants and long, padded couches. Of course a Polar Borealan would not fear the winter, it might even be downright balmy compared to what they were used to back home. The whole scene looked like the palace of some Arabian prince, all it was missing were wandering peacocks. 
	“Impressive.” He muttered, gazing at the shining marble and the fine fabric that decorated the walls in the familiar Borealan style.
	“My home away from home. You look tired, Ambassador. Come, sit.”
	She sat on one of the long couches, padded with blue satin, or maybe silk cushions. He walked over to her and sat beside her, she helped him up, taking his hand. He sat next to her in silence for a while, as the guards hovered by the entrance. The stars in the sky had moved a little closer together, but he wasn't feeling the chill yet, it must be too early. The Regent shuffled backwards, leaning upright against the cushioned headrest of the long couch, and surprised Dennis by hooking her large hands around his midsection and pulling him towards her. She placed him beside her as if he were a doll, he was too short for the couch, his feet were propped up on a raised section where the knee would have been on a Borealan. She draped her long, furry arm over his shoulder, hugging him against her furry body. His face pressed into the side of her boob, the fur tickled his nose as he breathed in her scent, musky, but pleasant. Perfumed with something barely detectable to a human. She was so warm and soft, whenever he was near her he just wanted to fall asleep. 
	“I hope you don't mind, Ambassador. I have studied human culture, I have read that you find physical contact reassuring and intimate. I do want us to have an intimate relationship.”
	Dennis resisted the urge to nuzzle, to press his face into her softness and just sleep.
	“Not at all, Regent. I...don't mind. Might I ask where you learned English? You don't look military.”
	She smiled at him, her blue eyes reflecting the glow of the eclipse. He felt her arm move, the soft fur sliding against his body and her large, padded hand coming to rest near his thigh.
	“I'll let you in on a secret, Ambassador.” She whispered down to him, her chin practically resting on his head. “I have more than a passing interest in humans and their affairs. Ever since the Coalition made contact with us, and the Patriarch began to trade with your kind, I have pondered the implications. What it means for Borealis, what it means for my people. The Patriarch has been able to acquire technology that puts him at, what some would say, is an unfair and unnatural advantage. He has used his great influence and considerable wealth to build a relationship with Earth, while locking out the Regents. The technology has not spread beyond Elysia, he is like a selfish kitten, he won't share his toys.”
	Dennis felt her long, fluffy tail slide across his legs, resting in his lap like a furry snake.
	“And so I studied human culture, human language, I took a great interest in learning all that I could about these short, industrious aliens so that one day I might meet one, and offer him a deal he couldn't refuse.”
	Dennis turned his head and looked up at her, confused.
	“What are you implying, Regent?”
	“Just think of it, the Patriarch's growing fleet languishes in orbit, fully functional spacecraft that the equatorial simpletons have no idea how to properly maintain, or even pilot. They rot in space, when even one such ship could offer my people a new beginning, a chance to leave this brutal planet and find somewhere better to live. Our overspecialization is our prison, we are confined to the pole, to live out our lives in the bleak tundras. When I put in requests to lease one of the ships, the Patriarch did not even respond, when I confronted him about purchasing one of the vessels, even at an extortionate interest rate he would not agree. He sees the Coalition and thinks that the secret to power is fleets, he seeks to keep that power from us for fear that we will use it to overthrow him, when all we want is the freedom to choose our home.”
	“Regent...your argument is fair, if I could help you I would, but this is beyond me. I don't have the authority or the influence to get you ships, the Patriarch is buying from traders, and he's paying well. Those same traders would sell to you, if you could afford it.”
	Her grip on him tightened, her soft fur pressing into his face as she held him, almost in a headlock now.
	“Why would the UNN send you if you had no authority? How would you gain such a powerful position without connections?” She glared at him, her eyes piercing through him. Her expression softened abruptly, and a warm smile returned to her lips. Dennis was wary now, and was beginning to regret ignoring Xhe's obvious apprehension. 
	“Little Ambassador, I do believe your loyalties lie with the Patriarch, and with Elysia. But what can he offer you that I cannot? Perhaps I should give you a taste of how I reward those loyal to the ice crown.”
	Her gentle grip suddenly became as iron, and she closed her large paws around him, lifting him and placing him between her long legs, his back resting against her belly, her cleavage cushioning his head. She barked an order to her guards, and the two females lay their glaives down, trotting over to kneel beside the couch, one either side of him. With her left hand she trapped his arms at his sides, and with the right she caressed his face, running her dull claws lightly over his cheek. The warmth of her soft body permeated him, and he felt his resistance waning as her hot breath blew through his hair. She was so damned comfortable, it was like being hugged by a giant teddy bear. He eyed the two guards warily and tried to remain calm. This wasn't his first rodeo with a Borealan.
	“What did that miderly fool offer you? All the meat you desire? Your own embassy? The company of that plain secretary? You will find that the people of the frozen pole are the warmest of all the Borealans, the most welcoming.”
	She leaned her head down, her furry cheek pressing against his, and used her free hand to angle his face towards her. 
	“Defect, Ambassador. Come back to the Polar territory with me, and you will have anything you desire. Let me show you...”
	Her puffy lips parted and she pressed them against his, holding his face steady in her hand. She mouthed gently, slipping her tongue into his mouth tastefully, expertly. She tasted of fruit, and smelled vaguely of flowers, with an underlying, heady musk that set his senses ablaze. She moaned softly as she kissed, the sounds driving his growing erection to full height, it throbbed painfully in his pants. This was different to the way Chaka and Cola had kissed him, they were aggressive and wanton, uncaring. This kiss was slow, teasing, he was being kissed as if by a lover, and it melted him like the ice that carpeted their frozen wasteland. 
	She released him, and smiled as he relaxed into her fur, his eyelids drooping. Nobody had ever kissed him like that before, it was...intoxicating. It numbed his mind.
	“Shame on the Patriarch, only giving you a single servant. His lack of hospitality embarrasses us all.”
	She hissed something in Borealan, and the two guards reached towards Dennis, attempting to pull his pants down. He became alarmed and started to struggle, but the Regent held him firmly in her grip.
	“They won't hurt you, we aren't brutish and violent like our southern cousins. We are a more refined, a more civilized people.”
	The two guards succeeded in removing his clothing, and his erection bounced free, almost hitting one of them in the face. The Regent chuckled, the low sound echoing in the courtyard, and lowered her hand towards his member. She reached out her index finger and tentatively pressed her spongy pad against the head of his penis, making a slow circle. Dennis gasped, turning his face away and into one of her breasts, as if not being able to see it would somehow lessen the sensation. 
	She gripped the shaft, her downy, smooth fur creating an odd texture, and she pumped up and down lazily. Dennis groaned, trying to buck his hips, but she held him still. He felt her mouth close to his ear, and she whispered softly.
	“Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to have a dozen Borealans wash you with their tongues? To have them taste every inch of your skin? I can make that fantasy a reality, just pledge your allegiance to me.” She slid her warm, rough tongue into his ear and tickled him.
	He didn't reply, and so she gave another order to her guards, spitting and hissing in the native tongue, drawing back her hand and gripping his face, angling his head so that he had to watch. The guard on the left moved her head in, pressing her soft lips gently against the head of his penis. Her pink tongue snaked out of her mouth and licked the underside of his glans, the bumps on its surface teasing him maddeningly, lubricated by her thick saliva. The second leaned down, mouthing his shaft wetly, her smooth lips gliding up and down, the tip of her tongue tracing shapes on his skin. 
	Dennis winced at the sensation, his body becoming like jello. The Regent laughed as she felt his trembling, and he looked up at her leering over him, her expression triumphant. 
	“Are they not beautiful? My own concubines, sensuous, skilled in their art. I have twenty more like them, of any gender that takes your fancy, selected for the sheen of their coats and the finesse of their tongues. I'll share them with you...” She sucked his ear into her warm mouth, chewing it lightly. “We could enjoy them together, if that is what you desire. You need only to ask.”
	Dennis' body was betraying him, and his mind was becoming clouded. This was heaven, he was floating on a puffy, white cloud, almost literally he realized, as the Regent pressed her weighty breasts around his head with her upper arms. 
	The right guard now took the head of his member in her mouth, her lips closing around him. The warm, wet pressure sent a shiver up his spine, and the Regent felt to too, chuckling at his reaction. The left guard moved down to his leg, kissing his inner thigh, and the right began to slowly bob her head up and down, sucking as she went. She coiled her meaty tongue around him as she moved, sucking his cock into the back of her mouth, the tip pressing into her throat. Thick strands of saliva dribbled into his pubic hair.
	Dennis gasped and jumped as the other guard found a testicle, dragging her wet tongue across the sensitive skin. 
	“Oh my, is that part of your anatomy especially sensitive?” The Regent hissed again, and the second guard returned, kissing and mouthing his balls, sucking them delicately into her hot mouth and taunting them with her agile tongue. 
	The Regent pressed her lips against his neck, placing slow, warm kisses that made him shudder. 
	“Have you ever lain with a Queen and her concubines, Ambassador? The Patriarch insults me with his title of 'Regent', as if the Polar territory belongs to him and I am merely its caretaker, like some governor with no real authority. I am the Queen, I wear the ice crown, passed down from my mother, and her father before her. My genes are of the noblest stock, my coat is exquisite, and my skills as a lover unparalleled. Will you not partake, Ambassador? Do you not desire me?”
	She used her free hand to push aside the thin fabric that held her breasts aloft, and they fell onto his shoulders in all their glory, pressing down on him with their massive weight. Dennis groaned as the right guard pushed him into her mouth, her lips touching his belly and his member being forced all the way down her throat, massaging him as she tried to swallow. She held him there for longer than her lung capacity should have allowed, before she slid his pulsing, aching member out of her mouth, leaving a mess of stringy saliva. Her eyes watered as she pulled back, and the second guard took over, using the saliva as lubrication to slam her head down on him without warning, his glans hammering the back of her throat. The right guard wiped her mouth, and stroked his thigh gently with her furry hand. 
	“This is only a fraction of what I can offer you, Ambassador. Will you not consider?”
	She gripped his face in her furry hand, her claws pricking his cheeks, and turned his head for another passionate kiss. God, she was good at kissing, Dennis mused, as her rough tongue played gracefully in his mouth, coiling with his own and teasing his throat. She broke away with a wet pop, her soft lips lingering for a moment as she withdrew. 
	“Come back with me Ambassador, help my people.”
	“Y-you don't...understand...” Dennis stammered, wincing and twitching as the guard worked him, the lining of her warm mouth like slippery silk around his sensitive member.
	“I don't have any authority...I can't give you what you ask...”
	The Regent bared her sharp fangs, and pressed them gently into his neck, just lightly enough that they didn't break the skin. She dragged her textured tongue over the pinpricks, and Dennis whimpered despite himself, then lurched as one of the guards kissed the base of his cock. It was becoming too much for him, he was in a haze of mingling pleasures that threatened to unhinge him.
	“Why would they send you...” The Regent hissed into his ear, “if you have no authority?”
	“I'm...I'm just a liaison, the job of an ambassador isn't to make deals, it-it's just...” He trailed off, exhaling a long sigh as the second guard returned, sliding her tongue up his shaft and meeting her counterpart at the head, they pressed their lips together, kissing wetly around his sensitive glans. He recovered, as if climbing out of thick mud as his consciousness came streaming back.
	“An ambassador doesn't really...do anything. My duties are to attend banquets, socialize, report back my findings to the UN. I-I didn't even know what the job entailed when I accepted the position. The only reason I'm here is because all the other lawyers did their research and didn't want to be stationed on Borealis...”
	The Regent seemed taken aback, and hesitated as she processed the information.
	“You're lying to me, Ambassador. The Patriarch speaks of you as if you have the ear of Earth, as if your presence in Elysia is proof of his influence and favor with the aliens. Why would your government send someone seventy five light years away to represent their planet if he had no power?”
	Her frown turned into to a sultry smile, and she gazed down at him with her reflective, sapphire eyes. She raised her large hand, brandishing her claws and Dennis recoiled, scared that she would use them to cut him. Instead she ran her fingers through his hair, and Dennis shivered and sighed as he felt the dull claws tickle his scalp. 
	“You are lucky that I am an advocate of positive reinforcement, rather than punishment, Ambassador.” She said, as she stroked him lovingly, like some favored pet. “Fear will force those weaker than you to obey, but adoration...adoration will unite a people in service to their beloved leader. I believe I can still make you love me, and then we shall see the true extent of your authority.”
	“I can't accept your offer, Regent-” She cut him off, pulling his ear with her pointed teeth.
	“I am no Regent, Ambassador. Use my proper title, Queen.”
	“My Queen...” Dennis stammered, his use of the title reddening his face, as if it were an admission of her power over him. “I can't accept your offer, however generous it may be, because I don't have the authority to deliver you ships, or technology. The most I could do is maybe contact a merchant company and see if they will give you a special deal on a ship. But even the ones the Patriarch is buying are junkers by our standards, if you can't afford those, then you won't find anything cheaper.”
	He bucked as the two guards swapped his member between their waiting mouths, kissing and sucking in ways that set his head spinning. The thick glaze of their combined saliva rolling down his shaft in globs. One gripped his aching, throbbing member in her hand, and gently stroked up and down. Her fur, wet with their mixed drool, and her spongy pads created an odd sensation that made him twitch and writhe. The second held his glans between her lips, circling it gently with her warm tongue. Dennis pressed his head back into the Regent's welcoming breasts, their warm, fat embrace enveloping him. She still had his arms trapped, and she hugged him close to her, pressing him into her furry, chubby body. It filled him with warmth and an odd satisfaction that made his heart flutter. 
	Was the Regent right? Her soft touch was intoxicating, her flowery musk invaded his senses like the tendrils of some wicked vine, and her kisses sent his brain into a tailspin, dizzying him with their nuance and intimacy. Perhaps she 'could' enchant him, was he really in danger of being stolen away by this woman? The longer he spent in her warm grasp, with her skilled concubines nursing his member, the less the idea scared him. That in itself was reason enough to worry.
	“My Queen, this has to stop, I can't...”
	She turned his head again in her grip, her slippery, thick tongue pushing past his lips and into his mouth, meeting him in an impossibly deep, loving kiss that made his eyes water and his heart jump in his chest. She left him panting and writhing.
	“I think I could make you come, just by kissing you.” She chuckled, “would you like that, Ambassador? Should we find out?”
	His pained look seemed to encourage her, and she waved away her guards with her furry hand, their tongues left his member, and he whined, disappointed. 
	“Oh, don't be upset. I think you'll like this.” She crooned, and took his burning cheek in her hand. Her ice blue eyes locked onto his, and his heart fluttered under her piercing gaze. He felt as if she could see right through him, as if she somehow knew what he wanted before he did. She was captivating. She moved in slowly, cradling his head in her hand, and he felt her warm breath on his waiting lips. Her pace was cruel, making him pine for her as she hovered over him, watching his reaction with those blue eyes. Finally she released him from the torment, pressing her full, smooth lips against his, moist with her saliva, interlocking despite their difference in size. Her copper taste tickled his tongue as she roved with wanton abandon, the sudden change in her style sending jolts of electricity down his spine like questing fingers. His cock throbbed and jumped in the air, lonely and deprived as the guards looked on. 
	It went on forever, she never let up, leaving him just enough room to breathe as she ravished him mercilessly, her powerful tongue exploring every inch of his head shamelessly, as if she owned him. Perhaps she did, perhaps he wanted her to...
	Dennis' mind was full of fog, he couldn't think, couldn't reason, all he could do was feel as the Regent's agile tongue brought him to the edge and stars danced before his eyes. He gripped handfuls of her soft fur, his arms still held against his sides in her strong grip, and an unbecoming moan escaped into her mouth. She released him, her slippery tongue coiling back between her puffy lips, and she pressed his head into her chest, a gentle hand in his hair.
	“Come for your Queen, Ambassador.” She whispered, then hissed something in Borealan. As Dennis' member bounced in the air, one of the guards closed her lips around it, pushing it to the back of her throat with a lewd slurp, and he came directly into her beckoning gullet. She swallowed, drawing out his emission with the rhythmic massage of her wet walls, her tongue teasing the sensitive spot on the underside of his glans. He tried to raise his hips into the air in a desperate, instinctive reflex, but the Regent hugged him against her. The frustration of being held still as he struggled only adding to the shuddering orgasm that wracked his body. It was almost too good, almost painful, he lost all perception of time as the exquisite moment dragged out, waves of pleasure crashing over his shivering body, indifferent to his suffering. Every tiny twitch of the guard's tongue or compression of her throat sent another shock wave of draining bliss through him, like he was the conduit for some powerful, ethereal energy. The Regent held him in her furry embrace, cradling him as if she were attempting to soothe him as he writhed and gasped.    
	“I'm sorry, I cheated.” She chuckled. “Couldn't have you coming on my fur, it's so hard to wash out.” He wheezed as the guard cleaned him with her tongue, exploring every contour of his anatomy and sucking out what little fluid remained, every motion amplified tenfold by his afterglow. When she was done she drew back, licking her lips, and the Regent released Dennis, turning him over so that he lay by her side on the padded couch. 
	She smirked, knowing that he wouldn't run, and he delved his hands into her fur obediently, grasping handfuls of her soft flesh, clinging to her as if he might float away on his high. She stroked his head tenderly, and he pressed his face into her, breathing in her musk. 
	Little by little he pulled back from the precipice as he lay with her, fragments of his conscious mind falling back together like the scattered pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. They spooned in silence for a long while, occasionally he would raise his eyes to the sky, and watch the secondary star as it obscured the primary, the flowers and fine curtains around the courtyard blowing gently in the breeze. 
	
	“Have you come to a decision, Ambassador?”
	He stirred from his peace, her voice popping his daydreams like a bubble.
	“I wasn't lying, my Queen. I cannot help you in the way that you ask.”
	She began to speak, and he interrupted her.
	“But, I think I may be able to help you in another way. I want to help you.”
	“I'm listening...”
	“There is a right my civilization affords all sentient beings, it's called asylum. The idea is that a person, or group of people who are deemed to be in danger or under threat of persecution may request to be relocated, and placed under the protection of our government. There are regions on Earth, entire continents that are too cold for humans to inhabit, and are almost completely unpopulated. Greenland, Siberia, the Arctic, parts of Canada and Alaska.” He was rambling, and seeing her expression he cleared his throat.
	“What I'm suggesting is, if I can make the case that your people are in danger, or that you can contribute something valuable to Earth, the UN may grant you asylum.”
	“What would this mean for us?” She asked, her eyes hopeful.
	“Well, depending on how many of you there are, they could relocate some or all of you to a territory on Earth.”
	She looked wary now, tapping one of her black claws against her chin as she considered.
	“Tell me truthfully Ambassador, would I be trading one tyrant for another?”
	“The government of Earth is fragmented, power is spread out between multiple states and colonies, there is no leader in the sense that a Borealan would understand it. Were you to establish an independent territory, you would even have a say in the proceedings, a seat on the UN council. That's the governing body that presides over the different territories and colonies.”
	“It sounds complex, but you say we would have some level of autonomy?”
	“I can't promise you anything, I can't even say if they'll accept your application, but it's all that I can do.”
	The Regent stared at the sky, her blue eyes reflecting the light of the eclipse as she thought about it, weighing the fate of her race. She was strong, stronger than Dennis had realized. A monarch leading her people, not a mere regent as the Patriarch suggested. Finally she looked down at him, resolute.
	“I accept your offer, Ambassador. It is not what I had hoped to achieve today, but I will take whatever I can get, if it means a brighter future for my people.” 
	She covered her mouth and suppressed a chuckle, and Dennis looked at her quizzically.
	“I don't mean to offend, Ambassador, but you really don't have any authority, do you? What you said was entirely true.” 
	Dennis laughed.
	“So now you believe me?”
	“No man could have refused my offer, I am confident of that. Why does the Patriarch believe that you're a direct line to Earth? Have you not told him the truth?”
	“Well, I've never lied...but I've not corrected anybody either. I was kind of a nobody back on Earth. I wasn't important, nobody ever gave me the time of day, nobody cared what I had to say. I was a low level employee in a law firm. When I saw that there was a job opening to become an ambassador on an alien planet, I jumped at the chance. I was so eager for adventure and status that I didn't even stop to think about what I was doing, or where I was going. My application was the only one submitted.”
	“And did you get what you wanted?”
	Dennis thought about the rainbow spider hunt, the banquet, and his encounters and interactions with the strange people of Borealis.
	“I guess I did, yeah. I got exactly what I wanted. We have an adage on Earth, 'be careful what you wish for'.”
	“I like that...”
	The Regent stroked his hair again, surprising Dennis. She had achieved her goal, what did she want now?
	“You know, Ambassador. If what you say is true, and our goal of escaping the polar territory is achieved through your efforts, you will have done more for my people than anyone in our long history, perhaps even more than the founder of our territory and my bloodline.”
	 “Well, it's the least I can do. It sounds like you guys really do need help, and this kind of thing is part of my job after all.”
	She wrapped her furry arm around his shoulder and held him close against her body, his face pressed against one of her large breasts, still hanging free of their support. His face began to burn again as he looked up at her.
	“I still have you for two days, Ambassador. As much as I am eager for you to return to the embassy and contact your government, would you like to stay here, with me, for the duration of the eclipse? As I have said, I reward loyalty, and my gratitude is boundless...”
	Dennis considered, biting his thumb as his face reddened at the prospect of spending two more days with the Regent. Xhe would be worried about him, and he should really get back to his console and send the asylum request as a priority message, but...
	Didn't he deserve some relief, some R&R? The Regent made him feel so...odd. All of the frustration and stress of the previous days melted away when he was around her, her calming voice, her soft, warm body, her considerate and gentle lovemaking. He felt butterflies in his belly, he wanted to say yes, but he hesitated, as if he didn't deserve it, or it might somehow be snatched from his grasp if he dared to reach out and take it. 
	The Regent looked disappointed, and began to get up.
	“In that case, Ambassador, I will arrange to have one of my guards escort you back to the embassy.”
	“No, wait!” Denis stammered, the touch of desperation in his voice surprising them both. 
	“I...I want to stay with you.” The Regent smiled down warmly at him. “...for the eclipse.” Dennis added, embarrassment overcoming him. 
	She lay back on the couch and pulled him close, wrapping him in her long arms and squeezing him against her furry body.
	“You don't need to be embarrassed, Ambassador. This is my gift to you. Besides, I've enjoyed your company, I find you somehow...” She struggle to find the words, “...entertaining.” She stroked his hair again, sending pleasant shivers down his spine as his face pressed into her chest. “Is there anything you would ask of me?”
	Dennis thought for a moment, then lay an arm across her belly, sinking his fingers into her downy coat. 
	“Let's stay like this...for a while.” 
	The Regent nodded, and Dennis closed his eyes, breathing in her scent and resting his head in her inviting bosom. After a few minutes, he fell asleep.

	Dennis awoke to a chill, he was lying alone on the couch, and the night was dark. He looked up into the sky and saw that the secondary had moved most of the way across the face of the primary, now a bright crescent obscured by a duller, more yellow glow. In the absence of the white glare, Dennis could now see other stars in the distance, cold pinpoints of light against the black sky. He wondered idly if one of those distant points was Sol. The ambient temperature had dropped quite a bit, and so he rose to his feet, retrieving his pants and heading to the edge of the courtyard. 
	He walked along the wall of the windowless building until he came across a large, wooden door. He pushed it open with a creak and wandered in. It was not dramatically warmer on the inside, the polar Borealans liked it cold after all. The interior was of the usual Borealan design, no windows, drapes and hanging tapestries, busts of Borealans and strange wooden carvings stood on pedestals along the walls. He walked through the building, searching for the Regent or her guards.
	“Ambassador.” He heard the Regent call him, and he walked in the direction of her voice.
	She was lying on a couch before a roaring wood fire, contained in an ornate, marble hearth. This couch was different from the ones in the courtyard, it was larger and looked softer, similar in design to human furniture. The Regent was facing away from him, her snow white ears swiveling to track him as he entered the room. It was just as elaborately decorated, the Borealans seemed to loathe the idea of bare masonry. 
	“Did you sleep well?”
	“Yes, thank you.” 
	 She raised a hand, and beckoned to him without turning to look at him. He walked around the side of the couch and stood before her sheepishly. She was lying down, her tall body stretched out lazily as she sipped pink liquid from a crystal mug, completely nude. The orange flicker of the firelight illuminated her imposing figure and cast the room into shadow. She patted the leather surface by her midsection, and Dennis complied, turning to sit on the edge of the cushioned couch. He hung off the cushion, his short legs dangling, keeping his distance, but she hooked her free arm around him and pulled him backwards, nestling him in her silky fur. 
	“Do you partake?” She asked, offering him the mug. He sniffed it curiously.
	“Is that 'raises the hair'?” 
	The Regent chuckled.
	“Why yes, it is. How did you come to know that?”
	He took the mug in his hands and sipped it, the sweet flavor warming his belly as she held him.
	“The first time I left the embassy to explore the city, I somehow ended up in a tavern. I drank with a Coalition soldier who spoke English, and she gave me this drink, expecting it to floor me. Turns out humans have a far greater tolerance of alcohol than Borealans, and I beat her in a drinking contest.”
	The Regent chuckled.
	“I bet she didn't take too kindly to that.”
	“A little too kindly, actually. Xhe had to pull her off me.”
	“Oh, I see, so it was like that...” She took the mug back from him and drank deeply, her arm resting idly around his waist. “Humans can be so docile and passive, it must have been jarring for you, to have someone attempt to take you like that.”
	“It was shocking, but...I don't know.” He trailed off.
	The Regent grinned and set the mug down on a small table by the armrest, she sat upright and pulled Dennis between her legs, wrapping her furry arms around him, his head pressed between her ample breasts. 
	“Go on...”
	Dennis' faced burned as hot as the flames that danced in the hearth, and that odd feeling of relaxation that he felt in her presence returned, dulling his senses. She smelled so good, a flowery perfume, with a hint of something that reminded him of daffodils, and underneath it a deeply sexual, primal musk that infiltrated his brain. 
	“Humans court very differently to Borealans. I had no reason to expect that when I arrived here.”
	“Do you like it?” She crooned, her warm breath tickling his ear.
	“I...” Dennis hesitated, squirming, and the Regent increased her grip on him, holding him tightly against her inviting body. “It is...different. Nobody had ever given me 'that' kind of attention before, I didn't know how to react, I froze up and my brain just shut down. To have someone force themselves on you like that...needless to say it's not common where I come from, it could even be seen as a crime.”
	“To take, or be taken, that is the Borealan way, even among my people. Though our approach may be a little more...cerebral, than that of our brutish cousins. I think, Ambassador, that you may be absorbing more of our culture than you realize.”
	She purred, the low rumbling reverberating through his body.
	“Why does it embarrass you so? Could it be some taboo in human culture?”
	“In a way. Borealis seems to have no gender roles, and very little sexual dimorphism. On Earth the sexes are clearly divided, with socially acceptable roles and behaviors. Were a male to be seen allowing himself to be...taken...in such a manner, he would be viewed as less masculine, maybe weak.”
	The Regent chuckled and pressed one of her large hands against his cheek, caressing him slowly.
	“Your face is so hot. Now I see why the soldiers have so much fun with your kind, the rumors have reached as far as my territory. Fragile, sensitive, yet unwilling to submit. The very act of courtship embarrassing to you.”
	“I'm not so fragile...” Dennis complained, a little indignant.
	The Regent laughed, squeezing his body in her long arms.
	“Forgive me, Ambassador. I'm sure you're very brave for a human.”
	“You can call me Dennis.” He replied.
	“Dennis...” She experimented with the word, rolling the letters over her tongue. “Does it have some special meaning?”
	“In Earth's distant past, in an era of superstition, it denoted the followers of the deity of wine and theater, Dionysus.”
	 “How fortuitous.” The Regent commented, planting a soft kiss on his neck. Dennis sighed and leaned back against her. “For I have become quite drunk. Tell me Dennis, would you like to make me very happy?”
	He waited for her to elaborate, his breathing becoming heavy in anticipation of her request as she loomed over him.
	“As a result of toying with you earlier, and my inebriated state, I find myself in need of relief, and my concubines are...mysteriously absent. I could call them of course, and have them tend to my needs in their own learned way, but I've heard things about humans that I would like to substantiate.”
	“And...what is it that you've heard?” Dennis asked, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear her say it.
	“Playing coy, Dennis?” She leaned back, pulling him with her so that he lay against her torso, and she slipped a hand up his shirt, dragging her dull claws lightly down his chest. He squirmed, burying himself deeper into her fur, and she brought her lips to his ear, whispering softly.
	“Your tongue, Dennis. I'm told that human tongues are agile, and smooth. I wish to see this for myself, you know what to do. A Queen should not need to explain herself to her subjects.”
	“Y-yes.” Dennis stammered, his head swimming at the prospect, and his legs shaky. He slid down her body, turning over as he went. She opened her thick thighs wider for him, and before he knew it his red face was level with her groin. Her regal, paper white fur gave way to delicate, pink lips, already engorged and moist, glistening with her anticipation. Her musk was stronger here, thick and dizzying, blended with the familiar metallic smell of Borealan excitement. She looked down at him with her blue eyes, reflecting the flames as they licked at the metal grill that contained them. The heat he felt on his cheeks from her loins rivaled that of the fireplace behind him. 
	He reached out a trembling finger and pushed her soft lips apart, exposing the pink flesh within. Everything about her was flawless, impeccable, she was bred to be royalty, and she knew it. Her smug expression as she watched him told him as much.   
	He pressed his lips against her slick flesh, and felt the shiver roll up through her body, culminating in a low sigh. He explored her folds and creases with the tip of his tongue, she tasted vaguely of milk, and her salty juices prickled his taste buds. He extended his tongue and pushed it deep inside her twitching entrance, the fleshy walls of her organ closing around it and drawing it in. Her viscous juices dripped down his chin, but he didn't care, he was captivated by her smell, her taste, his desire to please her was becoming a desperate need. 
	He raised his eyes over her fluffy mound, and she observed him, her gaze sultry as she lounged and sipped her beverage, as if she were having her damned shoes shined. He searched for her clitoris with his tongue, and when he found the swollen protrusion, he trailed his tongue lightly over it. She flinched, almost spilling her drink. He chuckled into her, and she squirmed as the vibrations tickled her sensitive flesh. 
	“Oof, not so timid I see.”
	He pressed his lips around the stiff nub of flesh and applied suction, drawing it out from under its hood and into his mouth. He felt her furry thighs close around his head as she groaned, and he drew patterns on its taut surface with the tip of his tongue. She reached down and placed her large hand on his head, her fingers delving into his hair and her black claws pricking his scalp. She pulled his head closer, deeper, and rolled her wide hips, grinding her mound on his face. The pressure of her padded thighs clenched around his head became uncomfortable, but he persevered, slipping a finger into her hole as he dragged the surface of his tongue over her sensitive button. 
	She bucked, but he wrapped his free arm around her fluffy thigh, holding on as she moved. He made a 'come hither' motion with his index finger in her oozing tunnel, digging it into the smooth flesh, trying to find her weak point. He felt her grip on his hair tighten as she jumped, almost as if she had been electrocuted. There it was. He inserted a second finger, pumping rhythmically and sucking harder as she writhed and gasped, her overflowing juices staining the leather couch and wetting the fur on her inner thighs. He continued, merciless, straining to hang on and stay in position as she attempted to fuck his face, the heat from her groin becoming almost intolerable. 
	Dennis jammed her clitoris between his teeth and his tongue, pushing his fingers into her weak spot, and she arched her back high into the air, growling like an angry tiger. Her walls closed on his fingers, crushing them painfully as her loins contracted and pulsed with the strength of her orgasm, and her long tail curled into a spiral as it hung off the edge of the sofa. She raised her free hand to her heavy breast and squeezed, pinching the protruding nipple between her fingers, and let out a long, pained gasp. 
	Dennis did his best to stay locked to her, stroking her insides more slowly and gently now, mouthing and kissing her sopping mound as she came down from her high in staggered, ragged breaths.
	He licked obediently as she recovered enough to glance down at him, dazed, her eyes not focusing properly. 
	“They weren't exaggerating...” She groaned, releasing him from her thighs. She hooked her hand under his chin, holding his face in her palm, then retrieved a silken cloth from the table, dabbing at his face gently. When she was confident that he was clean enough, she lifted him off the ground and placed him beside her on the couch, relaxing and enjoying her post coital bliss. She handed him what was left of her drink, and he sipped, washing her taste from his tongue with the sweet beverage. The heat of the fire warmed him as he lay with the Regent, leaning into her soft coat and listening to her hypnotic breathing. She slumped, her heavy chest rising and falling methodically, she had fallen asleep.
	“What am I doing here?” He mumbled to himself. He had wanted to become important, to be a diplomat, yet here he was performing sexual favors for an alien monarch. He should be happy that he was being paid to attend banquets and get laid, but it nagged at him. He was forgetting his ambition, he hadn't earned this position, nobody else had wanted it. If he had done the research into what he was agreeing to he probably wouldn't have either. He had longed for adventure, to leave his soul crushing office job and explore alien planets and cultures, and he had gotten what he wanted. Not as he had envisioned it, but things rarely played out the way he planned. 
	Was all the booze and sex the planet could supply worth his self-respect? He knew that his position was a joke, he didn't have any of the authority or power that these aliens assumed he did. Nobody in the UN cared about him, he hadn't even sent them a single update yet, and so far he had received no communications or requests concerning his status. Ambassador Carlisle was the physical embodiment of lip service, a stooge sent to placate the Patriarch and keep the troops flowing by making him feel more important he really was. Besides, most of the sex was not consensual, and he still didn't really know how he felt about that. He enjoyed the attention, he knew no girl on Earth would ever come on as strong as these Borealans, but it was for all the wrong reasons. Still, the feeling of them overcoming him, being wanted so strongly and so violently, the sensation of being restrained as they inflicting their selfish pleasures upon him as he struggled, it was intoxicating, addictive. Could he ever leave that behind now?  
	He watched the Regent sleep, her furry ears twitching slightly, perhaps she was dreaming. At least if he could help these people, if he could follow through and get them asylum on Earth, his coming here would not have been for nothing. She had said it herself, he would be changing their lives for the better, and he would have done it of his own volition. If that wasn't the true work of a diplomat, then what was? Who among the ranks of the pompous, preening politicians back home could say that they had saved a race of people, or positively influenced the lives of anyone, really? This wasn't a matter of taxes and treaties, but of life, and the freedom to determine one's own destiny. 
	He dropped off the sofa slowly, leaving the warmth of the Regent and her fire to wander back into the courtyard. He lay back on one of the couches and watched the sky, the eclipse progressing slowly as the cool wind blew the leaves and delicate, embroidered fabrics that decorated the space. 
	He decided that he liked Borealis. When you looked past the brutality of the environment and its people, the crushing gravity, the deadly fauna and the unpredictable weather, it had a certain charm to it. Perhaps he had grown to respect the hardy natives and their stalwart attitude towards life on the planet. Or maybe it was the simple natural beauty of his surroundings, untouched by the same industrial plague that had befallen Earth. No shuttles clouding the sky, no skyscrapers breaking up the horizon like broken teeth jutting from the jaw of some long dead animal. The air was fresh, the water clear, and what artificial structures there were, were the products of artisans who cared about their craft. Not the soulless work of union laborers or company architects, cutting so many corners that it was a miracle the buildings they erected didn't end up rolling away. 
	Regardless of how he felt, his time here was limited, and maybe that was for the best. After six months he would be forced to return to Earth, or risk suffering permanent damage from the gravity. 
	“Can't have too much of a good thing...” He muttered, to nobody in particular.  

CHAPTER 7: HOT SPRING

	“Is there anything you'd like to see?” The Regent asked, lifting a steaming beverage from the tray one of her guards was holding as she lounged in the courtyard. It was morning, but besides the almost imperceptible yellow glow of the secondary star, the electric lamps that circled the building were the only illumination, casting her perfect fur in an artificial light. 
	“Not that I can think of, I've already had Xhe take me to the places that came to mind. The city, a fishing village, a ranger outpost. As a native, surely you have some suggestions?”
	“I can think of a few things.” She answered, raising the mug to her mouth and blowing on it tentatively. Ice had begun to form on the roof of the building, and a layer of frost coated the leaves of the plants. It was getting cold, but Dennis had realized that his ideal temperature was much closer to that of the Regent than the equatorial Borealans. It wasn't all that cold, not enough to be uncomfortable to him, having grown up in the North of Europe. 
	“Then, I defer to you, your majesty.”
	She chuckled into her drink. 
	“I have to say Dennis, when coming from you, the honorific sounds somewhat sarcastic.”
	“Wouldn't dream of it.” 
	She waved her guard away, and drank deeply from the mug, closing her eyes as the warm liquid, whatever it was, heated her from the inside.
	“You don't seem too cold, Dennis. That is encouraging. Is this temperature not unusual for Earth?”
	He lay back into the low couch with his hands behind his head.
	“Not really, this is an average winter for a lot of places, and the usual temperature for others. Earth has a lot of different climates and seasons, far more than Borealis. In the places you might end up going, this is relatively warm.”
	“Good, I do so enjoy visiting Elysia during the eclipse, the Patriarch most often holds his banquets the day before, which gives me a good excuse to come down and stay for a few days. That reminds me, would you like breakfast, Dennis? I can have my guards prepare anything you wish.”
	He thought for a moment, missing Xhe's expert ability to determine the best meal for any occasion, then settled on smoked fish. The Regent called to her guards and hissed instructions, then they disappeared into the building. 
	“Oh, I have an idea. Tell me Dennis, do you have geothermal springs on Earth? I have to assume that you do.”
	“Yes, we do. Thought I've never visited one personally. My position back home never really allowed me much leisure time.”
	“Would you like to see ours? They are cool enough to bathe in, but hot enough to drive away the cold, you might enjoy them. I could introduce you to Borealan bathing culture.”
	“Yeah, that sounds good.” Dennis replied.
	“They are some distance away. Because of the Patriarch's refusal to share any of his technology, I do not have my own shuttle. When I come down from the pole, I have to use an atmospheric craft, it is many multiples slower. Perhaps I can arrange the use of the shuttle on this occasion, if his favorite ambassador requires transport and nobody else is making use of it because of the cold.”
	“I'm sure he'll agree, if he's even awake.” Replied Dennis. He sat up straight as one of the guards returned with his meal, and took the tray as she handed it to him. Two fat, armored fish, their smokey smell rising to his nostrils. He inhaled happily, and pulled his cutlery from his pocket, unwrapping them from their protective fabric. He had elected to take them everywhere with him now, it was an odd feeling having to carry one's own cutlery around on his person, but the Borealans simply had no concept of dining utensils. The Regent watched him curiously as he carved the fish with his silver knife, and forked the small pieces into his mouth. 
	“How odd...” She commented, her eyes following his fork as it pierced a steaming chunk of fish and brought it up to his lips. “You lack claws, and so must use tools to eat. I hadn't even noticed at the banquet. Of course, how else would you cut the meat?”
	“We can eat with our hands, and cut with our teeth, but it becomes messy and we generally don't like to. There's a perception that it is...uncivilized to eat with one's hands.”
	“I see.” The Regent replied. “Perhaps I should learn, such minor cultural details can heavily influence people's perceptions.”
	Dennis nodded, chewing a mouthful of fish.
	“That's very astute, I could teach you, it isn't hard. Hell, I'm a diplomat, it's my job to know things like this, if you have the time I can teach you all kinds of human customs and cultural quirks.”
	She lay back in her couch, pensive.
	“If it is my fate to lead my people to Earth, I must learn your culture with the same open mindedness and vigor that you have learned ours.”
	She leaned forward and rose to her feet suddenly, her snow white tail flicking from side to side as she stretched, raising her hands into the air. She was incredibly large, she must be skirting nine feet. Size seemed to be a reliable indicator of status on Borealis.
	“But enough of that for now, I need to make a call and see if the Patriarch won't share his toy with me for a day.”

	The Regent was able to charter the shuttle, and when Dennis had finished his meal, he headed off to the ivory tower along with the Regent and her guards, as it was the only landing pad in the ancient Elysian city. Dennis wondered if modernization would see the Borealans knock down some of their long standing, finely masoned structures in order to build more of them, he hoped not. The streets were deserted now, as frost and ice clung to the stonework, making the ground slippery. The Regent and her guards payed it no mind, their sharp claws and padded feet gripping the cold surface easily. He wondered how long it had taken for the races to diverge so dramatically, science might even consider them a subspecies at this point. He had never gotten a good impression of the age of anything on Borealis, the cities, the buildings, the age of the territories themselves, the length of time the current civilization had existed, or even the lifespans of the alien inhabitants. Perhaps he should ask some time, but right now didn't seem right.
	“It's so strange to see the city empty of people.” He commented. “When I first came here they were jammed shoulder to shoulder, as far as the eye could see.”
	“Yes, Elysia does have a problem with overcrowding. Fortunately I rarely have to deal with it because of the timing of my visits.”
	“Is the Polar territory less populated then?” He asked, jogging a little to keep up with the Regent's long, graceful strides.
	“Most Borealans cannot tolerate the cold we have adapted to, and my people breed slowly, placing immense value in the raising of our offspring. People in Elysia can have litters by the dozen, they will never run out of food and space, and there are few dangers to befall a curious kitten in such a temperate climate. They will never lose their child down a crevasse, or have them fall through the ice over a lake and freeze.”
	How sobering, she sounded indignant. Was the situation in the polar territory really so bad? 
	“If it's so dangerous to live there, how have you even survived this long?” Dennis asked, a little hesitantly.
	“I remind you of the adage, 'The strict mother raises disciplined children.' Adapt or die, that is the driving force of evolution. We cannot simply leave, not anymore. Although modern technology would allow us to travel anywhere on the planet, it came too late for us, our own bodies have become our prison.”
	“Humanity has races too, though nothing so dramatic. Anyone can live anywhere, basically. I suppose the high altitude adaptation that Tibetans have is the closest example I can think of. They are mountain people, living at high altitudes, and as a result they have adapted to a lower oxygen environment.”
	“No great variation then?” She asked.
	“No. In fact, there's still a debate raging over where the lines between the races are drawn, or even if they have any biological basis at all. It must have taken a great deal of time in order for your people to diverge as much as they did.”
	“It is not known exactly when our ancient ancestors migrated North, nor is it known why they did so. Perhaps they were escaping persecution, or they were driven there by some great cataclysm. It was long before Borealans began to make claw marks on rocks to record the passage of months and years. We developed in almost total isolation, as none of the other races dared venture into the tundras save a few ambitious explorers. Nobody fought us for the territory, because nobody wanted it. There was no movement of people between our territory and others.”
	It must have been a long time then, thousands of years at least, perhaps tens of thousands. Having no common point of reference he wouldn't understand an answer she gave on specific dates or timescales. Maybe he would ask Xhe when he got back to the embassy, she might know.
	They arrived at the ivory spire, it protruded into the sky, its usual white color stained a dull yellow in the secondary's light. They mounted the winding steps and arrived on the landing pad, where the shuttle was waiting for them, its engines already warm. The pilot greeted them, it was the same one who had flown Dennis and Xhe previously, clearly roused against his wishes and forced into the cockpit by the orders of some higher ranked Borealan. The Regent and her guards loaded in as the pilot flipped switches and grasped the flight stick, angling the nose higher as it banked over the city. Dennis watched the empty streets dwindle into the distance as the shuttle headed North over the lake.

	The jungles turned to desert, and then the deserts turned to snow, they were flying very far North where the temperature was even lower than in the city. Dennis began to worry, he hoped the Regent had not overestimated his tolerance of the cold. They passed over a mountainous region, and Dennis's stomach lurched as they began to descend towards the craggy, snow-covered peaks. The pilot circled, clearly searching for a suitable landing site, and after a few passes it felt as if they might have to turn around and head back. Finally he spotted a good place to land, and hovered the shuttle down in VTOL mode, the landing gear crunching in the crisp, white snow.
	As the landing ramp opened, a chill wind blasted through the ship, and Dennis immediately braced against it, crossing his arms and shivering in his suit. The pilot grunted in disapproval from his seat, eager to have them off his craft and see the ramp closed.
	“Be brave Dennis.” The Regent crooned, her tone somewhat mocking. “It is only a short walk to the hot springs, come.”
	She reached out and took his hand, her fluffy fur warming him like a glove. She pulled him out of his seat, and down the ramp into the snow. He sunk ankle deep, the freezing chunks penetrating his socks. He considered asking her to carry him for a moment, but no, he still had some dignity left. He trudged behind her as she strode over the snow, and he heard the landing ramp close with a pneumatic hiss as the pilot sealed the shuttle against the freezing winds. They descended down some rocky crags, it was actually pretty dangerous, the combination of height, poor footing and ice making Dennis wary. He held onto the Regent's hand like a child at the mall, she could certainly catch him if he fell. Even in the low light Dennis could see for miles, the sharp peaks pushed into the sky, making the Patriarch's tower look impotent in comparison. They were slap bang in the middle of a sizable mountain range, surrounded by rock and snow. Even in the harsh cold, Dennis could appreciate the natural beauty and serenity of the location. 
	As they descended, their destination came into view. On a sort of flattened plateau protruding from the side of the mountain, several steaming pools of water rested, the snow around them melted away by their heat. Geothermal springs, produced when groundwater, heated by the interior of the planet, was pushed up and out through cracks and faults. It took them a few more minutes to climb down, these seemed entirely natural, no stairs carved into the stone or barriers erected to protect from falls. 
	“How do you even know about such a remote location? How would you get here without a shuttle?” He asked.
	“Do your people not scale mountains?”
	“Well, yes, but...”
	She had a point, he supposed, but it felt so remote, and there was no sign of civilization here. Had this been a location on Earth there would be stairs and barriers, signs, someone would probably be charging for their use, holidaymakers would be splashing and their children would be causing a ruckus.
	Here there was no sign of anyone else. It struck him again how underdeveloped Borealis was, or perhaps how overdeveloped Earth was.
	As they reached even ground, the Regent released his hand, and he marched over to the edge of one of the pools, having to raise his legs higher than usual in an odd, awkward stride in order to walk through the deep snow. He knelt by the edge where the snow had been melted away, exposing the earth, and dipped a finger into the water gingerly. On Earth some hot springs were lethal, either hot enough to boil a person alive or acidic, having picked up toxic minerals in their ascent to the surface. It was extremely hot, but not dangerously so, and so far his finger had not been eaten down to the bone by acid. 
	The Regent arrived next to him, watching him curiously.
	“It is quite safe, Dennis.”
	He turned to reply, but faltered as he saw her clothes were already discarded. Her plump breasts hung heavily before him, and the tuft of soft fur on her pubic mound jutted out conspicuously. She rested her hands on her wide hips, and cocked her head at him quizzically, her long tail waving back and forth as she held it above the snow. Noticing his expression, she put her hand to her mouth, suppressing a chuckle, and strode forward, pulling him against her. Dennis's head was thrust between her massive globes as she wrapped her arms around his back, hugging him tightly. His face pushed into the fur of her chest, and her weighty boobs slid against his red cheeks, impossibly soft, their warmth hypnotizing him. He closed his arms around her waist, sinking his hands beneath her silky coat. The cold of the mountain air was forgotten and her heat radiated through him, warming him to the core. Her sweet, enticing scent overcame him, and suddenly all he wanted out of life was to be nestled in her hot, comfortable embrace. As she stepped away from him he felt as if he had just left a heated building and wandered into a blizzard. They really did trap an incredible amount of heat between their fur and their chubby fat layer.
	“Why are you suddenly embarrassed, Dennis? I thought I had made my feelings about our relationship obvious already. Now take your clothes off.”
	 He considered replying, but thought better of it, and began to remove his clothing as she watched him, a salacious glint in her blue eyes. They wandered down his body as he pulled off his pants and dropped them on the dry ground by the nearest pool, shivering as he made a futile attempt to shield himself from the cold. She approached him again, and he extended his arms expecting her to warm him again, but instead she placed her large hand on his chest, the fur tickling his skin, and shoved him backwards and into the water.
	He fell in with a splash, the hot water searing his skin. It was quite shallow, only chest high to a Borealan, and he stood with his head breaking the surface, his wet hair falling over his crimson face.
	“Argh! What the fuck!?” He exclaimed, the sudden temperature change prickling his skin all over his body.  The Regent laughed from her gut, almost like a bark.
	“Forgive me Dennis, I couldn't resist, and it's better to just jump in and get it over with.”
	He scurried out of the way as she leapt into the water, the massive splash showering him with more hot water, and the displacement pushing him away as the wave she had created lapped at the side of the pool. She rose to chest height, her mammoth breasts floating in the steaming water, and shivered, her eyes wide.
	“Hot!” She proclaimed, as her fur clung to her curvy body, only accentuating her impressive figure. 
	“I could have told you that!” Dennis complained, but he was adjusting to the temperature now, and the heat was permeating his bones in a pleasant, creeping way that drove off the lingering cold and relaxed his taut muscles. 
	She waded over to him, her eyes low and sultry, her abundant chest swaying in the water as she moved. Dennis pulled back a little and found himself at the edge of the pool, and the Regent pressed herself up against him. Her pliant, fat breasts pushed against his face again, appropriate on her giant frame, but larger than his head. The wet fur felt odd on his skin, but pleasant. He gasped in surprise as he felt her thick, muscular thigh press into his groin and lift him slightly, the strands of her floating pelt tickling his genitals and sending a shiver up his body. 
	“My poor ambassador, let me make it up to you.”
	Her hot tongue parted her lips to trace the curve of his ear, and almost as if it had been programmed into his body, he went limp and lowered his gaze to the water, his face blazing. She whispered to him, the heat of her breath even more evident in the cold air, pausing to chew his earlobe playfully.
	“Do you want me?”
	He nodded, but she wasn't satisfied with that, curling her fingers under his chin and lifting his face so that she could watch him squirm with her icy blue eyes.
	“I want to hear you say it.” She crooned.
	“I...I want you...” Dennis stammered, and her lips curled into a knowing smile. 
	“Then, you shall have me.”
	She lowered her head and pushed her long tongue past his lips, subjecting him to another one of her delicate, expert kisses. Her familiar metallic taste set his neurons firing as she teased him, coiling her tongue around his, her thick lips pressing gently down on him. She kissed the way she walked, the way she spoke, refined, sophisticated, somehow knowing just where to strike to deliver the most draining, debilitating blow, leaving him bleary eyed and wanting.  
	She mounted him suddenly and aggressively, squeezing her thick thighs around his hips, and pushing his now throbbing erection against the heat of her vulva. He squeezed his eyes shut as the sensitive head of his penis dragged against her soft flesh and her fur tickled him, letting out a pained sigh. The Regent chuckled and cradled his head in one of her large hands, sinking her fingers into his hair and pricking his scalp with her dull claws. Dennis felt like he was overheating, the boiling water, his burning cheeks, the incredible warmth radiating from her body, he was awash in a sea of feverish sensations. He flinched as her felt her fluffy tail snake between his thighs and wrap around one of his legs, and she brought her full lips down to his neck, pressing them gently against his wet skin, sending a jolt of electricity down his spine. She rubbed her loins up and down his shaft, teasing him as she rolled her hips, appraising his reaction with her reflective eyes as his face contorted and she forced involuntary sounds from his lips with her cruel dance. 
	“The patriarch never shares his toys...” She breathed into his ear, her wet fur rubbing against his red cheek. “Maybe I'll steal one from him, his prized ambassador. Tell me Dennis, will you become my toy?”
	He was in no fit state to answer her, overcome by her teasing he lowered his head into her cleavage, burying his face in her damp fur, the strands tickling his nose, as if tying to escape the stimulation she was inflicting upon him. 
	She had stated her intentions to make him love her, she was intoxicating, insidious, worming her way into his brain with every slow kiss and every soft whisper. But was she doing it because she liked him, or just as some roundabout way to get back at the Patriarch? He realized that he didn't care, and for reasons that he didn't understand, the thought of her manipulating him, wrapping him around her little finger as she pleased, only engorged his erection and set his heart pounding faster in his chest. 
	These Borealans had awakened a dark craving within him, a new desire that he didn't want to consciously acknowledge, a burning need that nibbled at the back of his brain like a parasite, demanding their cruel attentions. This silver tongued, majestic creature had her hooked claws buried deep in his heart, and she wasn't about to let go, he didn't want her to.
	Sensing his turmoil, she ran her fingers through his hair as he panted into her cleavage, stroking his head, simultaneously soothing as she tormented him. He felt the spongy pads on her fingertips grip his throbbing, painful member delicately, guiding him towards her opening under the hot water. He sank his teeth into the white fur on her chest, biting down on a tuft as he felt his exposed glans graze the tight entrance of her opening. Now it was her turn to sigh, he felt her grip increase in his hair as she slowly pushed him inside her, the textured folds of her vagina raking his head, lubricated by the hot water and the Regent's own copious contribution. He moaned into her furry cleavage as she lowered herself onto him, impaling herself on his rigid member, pushing him deeper inside her until he met resistance in her depths. The heat was dizzying, he felt as if his cock was an iron in a forge, glowing orange and dripping molten metal as she melted him with her burning loins. 
	He almost wanted to beg her to stop, he felt like if she started to move, it would be over for him, and he'd be completely under her spell, but some deeper part of him wanted that, craved it. 
	His eyes flew open as she pulled back, moving her massive hips and gripping him with her strong thighs, the intense suction as he pulled out causing her velvet insides to claw at him, trying to drag him back in. She purred, the low rumbling vibrating his bones through the water, and she bit her lower lip with her pointed fangs, an oddly human gesture coming from such an alien creature. 
	“You're so warm, so much blood...” She muttered. She slammed down on him, harder this time, forcing his aching member all the way to the base. Her slippery tunnel gripped him like a fist gloved with silk, and she began to pump ruthlessly. Dennis had been with women before, though he was out of practice, but the Regent's organ was sublime, heavenly. She was of the highest genetic stock, refined over generations of selective breeding aimed at producing the most regal and resplendent example of her kind, and her obvious pride only added to her overpowering charm. Every powerful thrust of her wide hips felt like it drove him deeper inside her, points of light flashed before his eyes and his muscles spasmed, waves of pleasure rolling up his spine as she maintained her pace, her eyes closed, lost in the rhythm. 
	Dennis felt a sudden surge of aggression well up inside him, he wanted this, he wanted her, more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. He raised his hands to her plump breasts, sinking his fingers into the ample fat and probing for the firm tissue beneath. She gasped, and he felt her insides close around him in a surprised contraction, sucking him further in. He mauled her breasts, handfuls of her pliable fat deforming in his grasp, and he sucked one of her protruding nipples into his mouth, trapping it between his lips and  scouring the tender surface with his tongue. She growled in response, tightening her grip in his hair until it became painful, but he didn't relent. 
	“Humans...full of surprises.” She grunted, through clenched teeth. He pinched her nipple in his teeth and she bucked, forcing his stiff member up against the roof of her tunnel, digging into her. She let out a long, low moan as her eyelids fluttered, and she lowered her head to press her teeth into his neck. 
	It was a fight now, and Dennis was fueled by a newfound determination to win it. 
	Arcs of electricity danced in his brain as she pricked his vulnerable skin with her pointed fangs, the familiar sensation warning him to submit washed over him in dizzying waves, but he fought it, applying more suction on her engorged nipple and clawing at her soft breasts with his hands. His cock jumped inside her as he felt her puffy lips close on his skin and suck, she raked her rough tongue across his neck and he buckled, gasping into her cleavage. 
	She chuckled, her hot breath tickling his skin, and continued, mouthing and kissing his jugular as he strained against her, he felt as if someone were pouring carbonated water over his brain. It popped and fizzled, his eyes becoming unfocused as she pressed her sharp teeth into his throat, sending a shudder rolling down through his body. The mock attack was finished with a warm, wet kiss that made Dennis' loins throb with desire as she withdrew her teeth and pressed her lips against his moist skin.
	He began to thrust into her now, digging deep inside her, the tip of his member kissing her womb, but she closed her legs around him, locking him inside her so that he couldn't move, and brought her hands to his cheeks, holding his head steady as she watched him struggle. 
	“Go slow, savor me.” She crooned, and grinned as his face flared crimson in response to her words. “Imagine I'm a succulent piece of meat, do you want to eat me in one bite, or relish every mouthful?”
	He opened his mouth to reply, but as his lips parted she brought her head down and met them with a paralyzing kiss. The tip of her long tongue taunted him as it tickled his throat, then she coiled it around his own, their tongues intertwining in a painfully slow waltz that set his head spinning. He wanted desperately to thrust into her, to feel the sublime contours of her tunnel wring him dry, but she held him still, his cock twitching and soaking in her viscous excitement as she ravished his mouth with her skilled embrace. 
	The kiss dragged on for minutes, Dennis's eyes watered and his heart throbbed, as if it were trying to break free of his chest in order to offer itself to her. He tried to tell her to stop, for fear that her roving tongue would make him come again, but she tangled it around his, cutting off his plea as he pulsed and bounced inside her. He felt like we was floating, flashes of white light flared in his brain like he was at the end of an optical cable. 
	Finally she released him, breaking away with a wet pop, her meaty tongue sliding out of his mouth obscenely, trailing a mixture of their saliva. Dennis was beside himself, overcome, his body refused to respond to his commands and his brain sizzled as if the heat were boiling it in his skull. He cried out as she unlocked her thighs and started to roll her hips again, the sudden stimulation making him jump and buck, but she closed her arms around him in a bear hug, holding him against her silky body. He delved his hands into her chubby love handles, gripping her waist and pulling her closer, leveraging her insulating fat to thrust harder and deeper as they moved together. She was so touchable, so inviting, the soft paunch of her belly protruding slightly over her groin, the firm meat of her ass, the hanging breasts that begged for his attention with their heavy swaying and the silken fur that encapsulated it all, white and pure like the snow around them. 
	“Harder, slower...” She moaned, wrapping her sinewy tail around his waist and dictating his pace. She slowed him, but hit him harder, slamming her pubic bone down on him with almost enough strength to bruise. Every thrust burned into his brain like a solar flare and numbed his lower body, his legs becoming limp and useless. She kept up the torturous pace, her insides sucking against him and sticking to his cock, fighting to draw him back inside her oozing depths whenever she pulled back, before crashing down on him again with a primal grunt, eliciting an anguished yelp or a low moan despite his efforts to contain them. The fact that the two guards watched from their post a short distance away, their eyes lingering on him as the Regent fucked him mercilessly only added to his arousal and embarrassment. She was sapping his will to fight, he was losing, and he liked it.
	In one last ditch effort to gain the advantage, he pushed his hand down between her legs, sifting through her soft pubic tuft and finding her clitoris, the heat from her splayed genitals guiding his fingers. He pinched the hard nub between his thumb and forefinger, and she let out a primal wail, her voice breaking and becoming hoarse as he rubbed it, slick and wet under the water. She bit him in mock anger, closing her jaws around his neck and trailing her textured tongue across his skin. A shiver wracked his aching body as she mouthed, and he yelped as he felt her shiny, black claws drag down his spine, leaving red welts that burned in the water.  
	“I'm gonna...come, and you're...gonna kiss me.” She wheezed, her chest rising and falling heavily, her breath ragged and her speech coming in uneven spurts. 
	He nodded vigorously, dangerously close to the edge himself, and she increased her pace, rocking him with her powerful hips. Her claws dug into his back but the dull pain only added to the sensation as they rose to a crescendo together, their breathing coming in strained bursts as they reached their shared climax.
	She forced her mouth against his, kissing desperately, aggressively, a completely new sensation as he felt the powerful muscles in the farthest reaches of her body begin to contract around his burning cock and massage it as if they shared her will. Her tongue roved shamelessly inside his head, all pretense of delicacy and refinement forgotten as she tried to fuck his mouth, her thick saliva dripping down his chin as their mismatched lips struggled to interlock and her slippery tongue filled his senses with its powerful, clumsy motions.
	He came too, his attempt to cry out smothered by her feral kiss. She gripped his wrists roughly and clamped her muscular thighs around him, holding him still as his back arched and he jerked and bucked. The heat between his thighs spread through his body like a fever, and his swollen member erupted, flooding the Queen's most intimate reaches with his thick, warm emission. She groaned into his mouth, feeling his burning heat pour into her, satisfying her most base drive as a woman and forcing powerful aftershocks through her taut body. 
	They grasped at eachother, imprisoned in their shared orgasm, each lost to their primal instincts, trying to draw out every last drop of come and luxuriate in every last twitch and spasm that resonated through their nervous systems.       
	'The little death', the French had nicknamed it, and now Dennis understood why. 

	They relaxed, letting the penetrating warmth of the hot spring soothe their aching muscles, and basked in their afterglow, as powerful as any opiate. Dennis rested, lying back on the Regent with his head nestled comfortably in her breasts, and her soft fur cushioning his back. Her arms were wrapped around his belly and she planted slow kisses on his neck, seeming to savor the taste of his sweat, every touch of her lips sending a satisfied shudder through his body. 
	“My Queen.” He began, but she cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips.
	“I think you've earned the right to call me by my given name, but only in private.” She added.
	He nodded his agreement, and she curled her arms around him again, holding him close to her.
	“It's Ursillik, it means 'child of winter' in the Polar dialect.”
	“Ursi.” Dennis corrected, and she laughed.
	“If you wish, Ursi. I like how it sounds, do humans always abbreviate their names?”
	“Most of the time, yes.”
	Dennis lay back, his head resting on her floating breasts as he enjoyed the quiet and the heat.
	“Why is it that you like me, Ursi?”
	Her ears twitched, and she pulled him a little closer to her, he felt her warm breath on his neck.
	“I don't know exactly. You're a curiosity, an anomaly. You're out of place, out of your depth, on a world no human, especially not Dennis Carlisle, should have ended up. You are completely unqualified for your assignment, yet in a way, that makes you the most qualified to make a real connection with the people here, you have no preconceptions and no biases. Maybe your spirit reminds me of a Borealan, adapting, struggling against the odds. And I like your tongue...” She added, whispering into his ear. “Oh, and I almost forgot.”
	She hissed something to her guards who had stood patiently in the snow the whole time, apparently the cold didn't get to them, or they were just too disciplined to show it. They began to remove their clothing, stripping off the already sparse fabric that protected their modesty, besides the leather belts around their wide hips, from which small pouches hung. One placed a pack she was carrying in the snow, perched against a protruding rock. They were somewhat smaller than Ursi and less impressive, but by human standards their figures were still overtly feminine. They marched over obediently, and gingerly stepped into the hot spring. The difference in temperature must have been extreme, and it took them a moment to wade in and reach chest height as they grew accustomed to the water. 
	“I did promise you a taste of Borealan bathing culture, did I not?” Ursi crooned. She gave orders to the guards, and they approached. Ursi handed off Dennis to one of them as if he were a doll, and met the second, turning her back to the woman. Dennis watched as the guard retrieved some vials from the pouch that dangled from her leather belt as it bobbed gently in the water. The guard uncorked one of the vials, and poured it over Ursi's back, a thick, white fluid that oozed out in clumps and stuck to her fine fur. 	
	“What is it?” Dennis asked.
	“Perfumes, shampoos, soaps, plant extracts, oils. It takes a lot of work to look this good, Dennis. A Queen must be presentable if she is to make a good impression.” She glanced back over her shoulder at the guard, who was now running her fingers gently through Ursi's pristine fur, creating a soapy lather. “Well, perhaps not my work, but you get the idea.”
	She closed her eyes, in a state of bliss as the guard massaged her back, swaying slightly as the guard's hands moved down her spine, stopping at her rump and then traveling back up to knead her shoulders. Dennis waited eagerly for his own massage to begin, it looked wonderful, but his guard didn't know what to do. After hesitating for a moment she spoke to Ursi in their harsh tongue, and she replied with a tone of voice that sounded annoyed. 
	“My concubine doesn't quite know what to do with you, Dennis. You don't even have as much fur as an equatorial Borealan. What do you suggest?”
	“Humans do this too, not communally, at least not often. My hair can be shampooed, and she can use soap on my skin, there's probably a very low chance I'd be allergic to any of it, as I can eat your food.”
	Ursi relayed the information to the guard, who popped open her little leather satchel, selecting a vial, and poured the contents into his hair. Dennis closed his eyes to protect them, it was unlikely Borealans had developed 'no more tears' technology, and winced a little as the gel seeped through to his scalp, still retaining some of the winter cold. The guard's large fingers delved into his fine hair, she was being especially gentle and careful, probably because of their dramatic difference in size, and the slow circling motions of her padded fingers started to send pleasant chills down his spine. 
	You could pay for a massage on Earth of course, but the busy schedule of a government lawyer didn't allow for such luxuries, not to mention the salary. Felling a little braver now, Dennis leaned back against the guard, her chest still soft and ample, albeit less exaggerated than that of Ursi, and her delicate fur tickled his skin. She didn't seem to mind, and continued her rubbing, her claws glancing his scalp occasionally and making him jump. Having someone wash his hair was oddly intimate and enjoyable, and the rhythmic rubbing made him feel relaxed and sleepy. He opened his eyes a crack to see what Ursi was doing, and reddened a little as he watched her twist and writhe, breathing heavily as her guard, or concubine as she called them, massaged her head, paying special attention to her ears. Was it an erogenous zone to Borealans? He would have to remember that. 
	It occurred to him that Ursi traveled with two female Borealans in order to see to her needs, did that mean anything? The lack of clearly defined gender roles and sexual dimorphism among the aliens seemed to indicate that homosexuality was not looked down upon, or perhaps not even recognized as a distinct sexuality at all. Less of a concept of 'gay' and 'straight', and more of a distinction between 'strong' and 'weak'. If someone was higher ranked than you, you tended to their desires or faced punishment, your own feelings did not factor into it. Perhaps that made their sexuality more fluid than that of humans, Ursi certainly seemed to be enjoying the company of her concubine just as much as she had enjoyed his. 
	The guard scooped up water in her large, cupped palms, and poured it over Dennis' head, washing off the soapy froth. The hot water felt pleasant in his hair, and the shampoo smelled vaguely of berries, or some kind of sweet fruit. When the guard was satisfied that his hair was clean, she moved her furry hands down to his shoulders, rubbing his muscles a little harder than he might have requested, but it felt amazing. He buckled forward a little, doubling over towards the water as her expert hands worked deep into his flesh. She found knots of stress and bunched muscle, kneading him as if he were a blob of dough. It was almost painful, but the intensity of the sensation and the relief he felt as she pressed her fingers into the base of his neck made up for it.    	
	He had to stifle a yelp as she moved down his back and below the surface of the water, using her thumbs to probe deeply into the muscle that ran down his spine. Her massage was as much exploratory as therapeutic, but he must have a fairly similar musculature to a Borealan as she seemed to know exactly where his major muscle groups and pressure points were. She reached his lower back, digging her fingers into the flesh above his buttocks, and her touch sent a shuddering flare through his body, fading into tingling pins in his fingers and toes. It was too much for him, and he collapsed backwards into her body, his eyelids drooping lazily. He wished they could communicate, he wanted to tell her where it felt good, where to push and where to stroke. He realized that he was breathing heavily and his member was rigid and pulsing again, he felt a little guilty. Was this intended to be sexual? A glance at Ursi confirmed that it probably was. 
	She was locked in an embrace with her guard, one of her arms reaching back behind her head to grip her concubine's fur as her hands roved over her master's belly and breasts, spreading thick, white soap that made them slick and foamy. The guard grabbed handfuls of her soft flesh, squeezing her heavy boobs and her paunchy belly, slipping her furry arm below the water where Dennis couldn't see it. Judging by Ursi's gasps, the guard was washing her loins. His eyes lingered on them, his member bouncing sympathetically as Ursi noticed he was watching them and curled her lips into a wry smile. 
	He was brought out of the moment as his guard began to rub a slippery goo on his naked skin, her damp fur serving as a rather effective hand towel. He squirmed under her touch as she spread the foam across his back, and then his chest, the waterlogged fluff titillating him as it dragged over his flesh. She moved down his arms, tickling the palms of his hands with her spongy pads, then down to his lower back, lingering on his buttocks. She moved her gentle palms to his inner thighs and he brought his hands to his burning face, the stimulation becoming too much for him as lay practically in her lap. His entire body felt tender and responsive, as if his very skin had become aroused and inflamed by her attentions. The warmth of the hot spring only added to the sensation, as he never became fully accustomed to it. He felt as if whenever he noticed it again, it became all the hotter, permeating him to the core with a sweltering heat that turned his muscles to mush. 
	Ursi seemed to have noticed his aroused state, and called an order to the guard, who lightly grasped Dennis' genitals in her velvety hands. He raised a finger to his mouth and bit down on it as he twitched in her grip and a shiver passed through his body. He was sitting on her now, supported by her thighs as he floated in the water, and he leaned back into her cleavage as she began to stroke him. The massage had made him so sensitive, so receptive, the heat of the water prickled his glans as she exposed it with her slow pumping motions, her grip tight but her pace considerate. He felt her suck his ear into her mouth, tracing its contours with her textured tongue and filling his head with lewd, wet sounds.
	He opened his heavy eyelids again and watched Ursi and her concubine. Ursi was lying back against the edge of the hot spring, and the concubine was running her fingers through the hair on her chest and belly, still washing her and combing her fur with her claws, but pausing to tease her erect nipples with her rough tongue. As Dennis followed them with jealous eyes, Ursi gripped the guard by the long hair on her head, and pulled her in for a long, obscene kiss. It was almost exhibitionist in its intensity and technique, as if she wanted him to see flashes of their meaty, pink tongues wrestling between their locked lips. Was it just for his benefit? No, he thought too highly of himself, these were the consorts of the Queen after all, she had brought them for her own purposes. But there was an element of teasing that was undeniable as Ursi's blue eyes met his, her expression gleeful as the concubine buckled under her deft touch, moaning as she was overcome. She leaned into her master, grinding against her furry thigh in a desperate bid for relief. 
	He groaned as his guard squeezed his balls softly in her damp palm, and added a twist to her relentless, methodical jerking. His vision was clouding, the pleasure too intense, Ursi's ostentatious display mimicked his most selfish and unrealistic fantasies as she pushed her concubine's head below the water line, holding her there as she ate her out. 
	Ursi's head lolled back, her eyes closing as she savored the sensation of the guard's long, rough tongue as it probed her insides. Bubbles floated to the surface, and Ursi smirked, apparently delighting in her power over the guard as she held her head under the water. Borealans had a large lung capacity, and just as Dennis started to become concerned, she released the concubine, who broke the surface in a splash, panting. Her breasts bounced as her chest moved, inhaling oxygen, and Ursi ran her fingers through the guard's waterlogged hair as she leaned against her chest, reconciliatory in her fawning. Ursi brought her chin up with a gentle finger, and kissed her gently, softly this time. The show of intimacy between the two woman made Dennis' raging member bounce in his guard's grip, throbbing painfully, almost as if it were trying to escape in order to join them. 
	Ursi took her concubine by the hand and led her over to where Dennis and his guard were entangled, wading through the chest high water, her grin sardonic. 
	“As entertaining as I find it to tease you, Dennis, I think you've had enough for one day.”
	She pushed her concubine forward, wrapping her furry arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck from behind, delving her long fingers into the soft fur and fat of her chest and belly.
	“I want it to be know Ambassador, that if you succeed in your task of liberating my people, this is only a taste of what I can offer you, a fraction of the gratitude Queen Ursillik feels towards those who show her loyalty.”
	She whispered something into the ear of the guard, almost a foot shorter than the more prominent Queen, and obeying the command she had been given, stepped forward towards Dennis. Ursi barked at the guard who was cradling him in her hands, and she let go, moving her palms under his butt and lifting him so that his erection protruded from the water, the cool air on his tender glans making him flinch. As guard number one held him aloft, guard number two placed her soft, wet lips on his cock, kissing the head gently, then in one smooth, uninterrupted motion, slammed her face down on it. She forced his erection all the way to the base, her tongue worming out from below his shaft to slide over his balls, tickling them under the water. Guard number one mouthed his neck, her soft lips and agile tongue occasionally gave way to pricks from her sharp teeth and placating bites that made him flinch and buck, jabbing his member into guard two's accommodating throat. This was clearly guard two's area of expertise, her time with Ursi seemed to have made breathing a long forgotten luxury to her. She held her breath as her thick drool rolled down Dennis' cock in globs and floated in the hot water. He felt the muscles deep in her gullet clench and constrict as she suppressed a gag, swallowing to pull his member deeper and clear her mouth of the pooling saliva. 
	Ursi glided over as guard two struggled and slurped obscenely, standing beside Dennis and leaning down towards the spectacle to get a closer look. She patted guard two on the head, as if she were a faithful dog, and turned to smirk at him.
	    “These two are my favorites, males are fun, but they're bad at giving head. They're too rough with their tongues, never met one who knew just how to get me there. I like a good lay as much as the next girl, but females have an intimate knowledge of the subject, so to speak. Borealans have rough tongues, if you're going to give head you have to be careful, apply too much pressure and a pleasurable lick can become agony. Nothing like having your clitoris raked by an overly aggressive male to take you out of the mood.”
	She snuck a hand below the water, getting herself off as she watched Dennis buck between the two guards. Guard number two released his member, pulling back and taking a few deep breaths, strings of her viscous saliva danging from her moist lips and coating his skin in a glaze of warm spit. She circled her tongue around his tender glans, then pressed back down, the slick drool serving as a lubricant. 
	“I'm growing quite fond of humans though, even your clumsiest attempts can't hurt me, your tongue is too smooth, too soft.”
	She bit her lip, watching guard two work his shaft, her blue eyes tracking her bobbing head. She  seemed to change her mind, and pushed the guard off Dennis, his throbbing shaft sliding out of her throat with a sucking pop as she floated sideways. Ursi moved infront of him and gripped his hips in her furry hands.
	“I can be selfish sometimes, will you indulge me?”
	Dennis was delirious, unable to reply coherently, and she grinned at his pitiable state as she grabbed his member in her hand, pulling his waist below the water.
	“Don't come until I do, or I'll be very cross with you.”
	She straddled him, closing her powerful thighs around his hips, and urged his member into her twitching opening, the gooey saliva still clinging to its surface despite the water around them. Dennis was almost numb now, overstimulated, yet the kiss of her soft, pink flesh on the tip of his member sent a fresh burst of tingling pleasure through his body. The disgruntled guard paddled back over to them, sidling up behind Ursi and gripping her copious bosom in her hands, squeezing and kneading the supple globes, pinching her engorged nipples between her fingers as Ursi's breathing grew heavier and her eyelids fluttered. Guard number one cradled Dennis' head, just watching now, her role apparently complete. 
	Ursi lowered herself slowly, gingerly onto Dennis' pulsing shaft, his vascular surface dragging against her inner walls, eased along by an obscene soup of saliva and excitement. She was too tight, too hot, the exquisite folds of her vagina brought him to the edge. Sensing his impending climax, Ursi squeezed the base of his cock painfully in her strong grip, cutting off his burgeoning orgasm in its tracks. His eyes widened and he gasped in discomfort, and Ursi wagged her finger at him, her tone chastising.  
	“I said no.”
	“Damn it...” He groaned, his member now even more throbbing and swollen than before. She released her grip, smiling down on him cruelly, and began to roll her hips slowly, stirring him around inside her. The guard he was sitting on raised herself to support him as Ursi moved, and soon Dennis found himself sandwiched between the two massive Borealans at chest height, their breasts engulfing his head. Soft, damp fur and yielding flesh became his whole world, and as Ursi's cleavage eclipsed his vision, the sensation of her sopping loins wrapped around his shaft like a glove became all the more powerful. The musky, soapy scent of the two creatures clouded his senses, and he buried his hands in Ursi's silky fur, it was even smoother and softer than it had been before. 
	He felt something wet drip on his head and roll down his face. He craned his neck to look up through the cushion of breast tissue, and his cock jumped inside Ursi as he watched her kiss the guard from below, practically battling over his head as their long, salmon pink tongues wrestled and twisted between their lips. Another strand of their shared saliva fell down on him as they embraced wetly, Ursi's oral fixation getting the better of her, the air of sophistication she liked to maintain slipping as her mounting lust overpowered it. 
	Ursi's movements became faster and more desperate, slamming into his hips, the fluffy pelvic region of the guard behind him going some way to cushioning her blows. It was too much for Dennis, he couldn't hold on, the strain in his groin threatened to snap his tendons and tear his muscles as he poured all of his concentration into trying not to come. 
	“Please Ursi, I can't take it...” He begged, his red face buried in her wet chest.
	“Just a little longer...” She growled through gritted teeth. She pumped relentlessly, driving him so deep that his cock buckled against the reaches of her tunnel, her slippery, burning walls compressing him like a vice. He felt her begin to tremble, the strong muscles inside her beginning to twitch and spasm, milking his raw, inflamed member as if trying to suck out his life force. She hugged the guard to her, squeezing him between the two of them, almost crushing him as she leveraged her hips, trying to grind his cock into her weak spot. He felt the convulsive orgasm wrack her body, the taut muscles beneath her husky fat flexing under his fingertips. She let out a primal grunt and sunk her teeth into the fur coating the neck of the guard, who seemed to become suddenly listless in response, like a scruffed cat. Her contractions drew out his own climax, and she jerked as he flooded her with his emission. Trapped between the two Borealans and unable to arch his back or buck his hips, he simply collapsed into Ursi as his balls emptied into her, giving in to the overwhelming euphoria as his cock bounced and pulsed, his body going limp. 
	With nobody holding them up, all three of them fell into the water in a soggy pile, and Dennis glimpsed the other guard watching them with a hint of jealousy in her expression as he expelled the last of his discharge into Ursi's trembling loins. 
	
	When they recovered enough to break free of their shared embrace, the two guards cleaned Dennis and Ursi up, massaging their tired muscles and washing off any stray fluids with cleansing soaps from their seemingly endless supply of glass vials. Eventually they climbed out of the hot spring, the harsh gravity gripping Dennis once more as he left the water. The freezing air bit into him like a knife, cutting short the slow throb of his afterglow as he immediately began to shiver violently. Ursi crept up behind him and wrapped her long arms around his body, hugging him to her. Incredibly her fur was still able to retain heat despite being damp and exposed to cold winds. 
	“I'm sorry Dennis, it slipped my mind that you have no insulation.”
	She called to the guards, and one walked over to the pack she had propped against a rock before entering the hot spring. She retrieved an enormous towel, carrying it over and draping it around Dennis. It was fluffy and soft, was it made from Polar Borealan fur? Would they do that? The texture felt similar. The Borealans seemed happy to stand in the wind in order to dry off, their capacity for insulation was truly remarkable. Dennis sat on a rock in order to free his feet from the crisp snow, and looked to the sky, still shivering as he rubbed the downy towel on his skin. The eclipse was full now, a searing disk of white light encircling a much duller, yellow orb. They had been fooling around in the hot spring all day, the time had passed quickly. 
	When he was finished drying off, he retrieved his clothes and dressed, then took Ursi's outstretched hand as they made their way back up the side of the mountain to the shuttle. His shoes crunched in the snow as they climbed, he stumbled occasionally, but with their long, stabilizing tails the Borealans seemed quite at home on the dangerous crags and steep ledges. He felt clumsy and ridiculous in comparison as they hopped deftly over protruding rocks. His breath was starting to crystallize as they arrived at the landing site, and the pilot begrudgingly lowered the ramp to let them inside. Dennis breathed a sigh of relief as he sat in one of the seats and buckled in, the shuttle had very effective heating and the pilot had kept it cranked all the way up. Ursi barked orders, and there was a short delay as the pilot angled the two VTOL thrusters on the wings towards the ground in order to thaw out the frozen landing gear. With a creak of breaking ice, the shuttle lifted off the ground and angled its nose towards Elysia, soaring over the snow covered peaks and out over the desert. 

CHAPTER 8: DELAYED REACTION

	The vibrations of the engines traveled up through Dennis' seat as the pilot lowered the craft gingerly over the landing pad adjacent to the Patriarch's ivory tower. The landing gear crunched in the fresh layer of snow, and as the exit ramp opened, a chill wind flooded the passenger bay, the brisk breeze ruffling the downy fur of the Borealans. Dennis tried to avoid slipping in the slush that the thrusters had melted as he left the stone landing pad and made his way inside the tower and down the steps. Ursi and her guards followed behind him, and she placed a hand on his shoulder as he turned towards the embassy.
	“Will you not be returning with me to my residence, Dennis?”
	“Go ahead without me, I'll catch up, I want to put the asylum request through. I might as well since we're here.”
	Ursi withdrew her hand and nodded approvingly.
	“You'll be able to find it again on your own?”
	“Yes, and the streets are empty, I should be perfectly safe.”
	She turned down the opposite street, her guards trailing after her, and Dennis pushed open the heavy wooden door of the embassy. It creaked on its massive hinges. It was dark inside, the dull, yellow light from the open doorway reflecting on the white marble floor. Was Xhe asleep? Hibernating? It was fairly warm inside the building, and he closed the door quickly so as not to let the cold creep inside after him. His wet shoes squeaked on the polished floor as he made his way quietly towards his bedroom, and the cumbersome computer console within.  
	He pushed the door open and moved over to the console, pulling up a chair and typing in the password on the jutting keyboard. The monitors flared to life, and cooling fans whirred as the device booted up, displaying lines of diagnostic information that illuminated the dark room in their white glow. He tapped into the orbiting FTL communications satellite, and composed his message to the UN.

To:UNBorealisCommission 
From:CarlisleDennisSR106478237
Subject:Borealis Mission Update
-BREAK-
Mission proceeding as planned, relations with Patriarch Elysiedde positive and improving. 
-BREAK-
Have encountered indigenous sub-species of Borealan evolved for polar environment. Representative made official request for asylum on Earth. Recommend relocating small population to sparsely inhabited area with arctic climate. Siberia, Alaska, Greenland, etc.
-BREAK-
Supply of technology to Elysia causing political schisms among territories, consider ramifications of supplying Patriarch with weapons and ships on local balance of power. 
-MESSAGE ENDS-

	He hit send, and the short, four kilobyte message was sent through the FTL relay, it would arrive at the UN receiver on Earth in short order. The satellites used quantum entangled particles in order to relay data, they were paired in carefully sterilized clean hangars on Earth, and then had to be physically transported to their destination on a jump freighter. When a change was made in one, it would be reflected instantly in its sister satellite, regardless of their distance from one another. Instant communication across interstellar distances, but the length of the messages that could be sent was severely limited. Using arrays of entangled particles whose state would change when exposed to an electrical charge, simple binary information and short text messages could be conveyed. 
	
	Xhe was roused from her slumber. She stirred, pushing aside the pillows and blankets of her warm nest, and raised her ears to the cool air. They twitched and swiveled, tracking footsteps in the marble hallway passing by her bedroom. It smelled like Dennis, what was he doing back so early? Not just Dennis, something else...
	Her delicate nose wrinkled, smelling the Polar Regent's perfume, and her powerful, sexual musk  creeping under the wooden door. Already annoyed at being woken, the scent assaulted her, aroused her, she had marked Dennis as if he were her mate, coating him in her pungent scent. She must have been all over him for the last two days. She was reminded of when Dennis had returned from his walk at the fishing village, when he had so clearly fucked that elite guard and stood cluelessly before Xhe, stinking of her sex, her fluids. Dennis was able to recognize the smell of smoked fish, but was oblivious to stink of females, could his dull human nose not detect the pheromones, or was he intentionally taunting her with his exploits?
	Anger flared in her groggy brain, fueled by the challenge of another Borealan's scent. Xhe had been ordered not to touch the little bastard, not unless he requested it. At first she had dreaded the moment when he might make use of her as an Alpha, order her to lie back and open her legs so that he might probe her with his odd, alien organ. But rumors abounded as to the fun and relief humans provided the soldiers on the Pinwheel when properly coaxed, reaffirmed by Chaka's clumsy advances in the tavern, not sparing a moment when the opportunity to court a human arose. Just as Xhe had begun to grow curious, and seriously entertained the idea of lying with the little human, she had realized that he didn't know how to make such a request. He had no clue of the rights and privileges that accompanied the role of an Alpha, or else he was willfully ignorant, the idea of using a subordinate for sexual relief somehow distasteful to him. 
	He was happy to lie with others, she had seen his arousal as Chaka had molested him, smelled the guard's excitement staining his clothes at the fishing village, and now the Regent's musk was all over him, a declaration of ownership that stung Xhe's nose.
	It wasn't fair, why did only Xhe have to adhere to such strict rules and codes of conduct when strangers approached him as they pleased without consequence? She was the one who was forced to tolerate him day in day out, to endure his constant provocations, his insults, his humiliations, not them. Did it make her a xenophile? No, how could it be morally wrong when even Regents were doing it? Hell, half of the damn Pinwheel had done it with a human, it was almost an inevitability when humans and Borealans were placed in the same dorm room. The Patriarch's own deviant daughter recommended it in private as an exercise for those who had the most trouble adapting to the demands of the integration program. Xhe had not been stationed in the military barracks when she had trained there, but she had heard the stories, and could imagine how it must smell.  
	A sudden impulse overcame her, a devious, sly idea. Her own audacity made her pause to self-evaluate as she considered the possibility of disobeying the Patriarch's orders. If he ever found out he would give her a scar so deep and so ugly that it might never heal properly, but Dennis had not told Xhe about the elite guard, who had disobeyed her orders not to interact with him. Coercion seemed to work, or perhaps the human was ashamed, and while Xhe had tracked the guard down later and drawn her disobedient blood for daring to think that she could deceive her superiors, the Patriarch need never know unless Dennis told him, and she was confident she could ensure his silence. 
	An excitement welled up inside her, she was tired and angry, yet somehow energized, giddy. Her loins began to burn in anticipation at the boldness of what she was about to do. It wasn't that Dennis had broken her resolve, no, she was still in control, this was a calculated decision. She felt saliva pool in her mouth, and she ran her rough tongue across her lips, wetting them. It simply did not make sense to follow the Patriarch's orders anymore, what harm could it do? Nobody would know, and her desires, her instincts that screamed to overcome Dennis and punish him for the distress he had caused her, would be satisfied in the process. 

	He should hear back from them within 24 hours, and then Ursi would have her answer. Dennis rose from his chair, and shut down the console, then turned to the door.
	He yelped, there was a tall figure standing in the doorway, silhouetted in the darkness. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he realized it was just Xhe. She was blocking his bedroom door, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She was wrapped in what looked like a bath robe, probably some kind of insulated sleepwear to keep her warm in the cold. 	
	“Oh, it's just you, Xhe! I'm sorry, did I wake you?”
	She stepped over the threshold, pulling the wooden door shut behind her with a click. Her expression was odd, surly, almost angry, with an underlying tiredness as if she had been roused from a deep sleep. She took another step forward, her claws clicking on the floor, and Dennis felt a pang of worry churn his stomach. 
	“Xhe, are you ok? It's me, Dennis.”
	“You smell like her...” She grumbled.
	“What?” Dennis was becoming alarmed at her unusual behavior.
	“You stink of the Regent's perfume, and underneath that, her sex.”
	Dennis took a step away from her and banged the back of his leg against the console.
	“I don't...what?”
	“The guard too, when I took you to the fishing village. You thought you could wash off her come and I wouldn't smell it on you? You think the stink doesn't permeate your clothing?”
	He edged around the computer console slowly, keeping his eyes on Xhe and putting it between them, then raised his finger, trying to assert himself as it trembled.
	“Y-You're out of line, Xhe.”
	“No...I'm the only one in line.” She replied. 
	He reached the back wall, and picked up a lamp from his bedside table, brandishing it in what he doubted was an intimidating display.
	“I'm warning you Xhe, keep your distance. What's gotten into you?”
	Her lips curled into a mocking smile and her reflective, green eyes locked onto him.
	“You're doing it right now and you don't even realize it, do you? Provoking me, teasing me. You think you can come into my embassy, my house, stinking of other women? Do humans even have a sense of smell?”
	She took another step forward, boxing him into the corner.
	“Why must I keep my distance and bottle up my frustration when everyone else gets to have you? The damage is already done, what does it matter now?”
	“Xhe!” Dennis ordered, trying his best to sound commanding, “I order you to back off, I am your Alpha, and-”
	She leapt onto the bed, her long legs propelling her into the air like coiled springs, and the mattress sank under her weight as she landed heavily, the metal bedsprings screeching their displeasure. She loomed over him, and he backed up against the wall, beads of cold sweat beginning to form and roll down his forehead. His fists whitened around the lamp as he held it to his chest, as if it might somehow protect him from her.
	Why was she doing this? She had always been so calm, so tolerant. Was it because he had woken her up? Something to do with the eclipse? He didn't understand. Xhe leered at him, her pupils were dilated, large, dark circles almost overpowering the green of her eyes. Her unflinching gaze was predatory, and Dennis shuddered instinctively. She bared her sharp teeth at him, and a string of thick saliva escaped her lips, she was practically foaming at the mouth.
	She reached out a clawed hand, as if to grasp at him, and he flailed the lamp to ward her off. He was too slow to make contact and she withdrew her arm, hissing, her long tail flicking back and forth impatiently. She tried again, and this time he swung the lamp into her wrist. The bulb shattered and she flinched back, broken glass showering the floor between them. 
	She paused to examine her arm, a piece of jagged glass was embedded in her skin, and a trickle of crimson blood oozed from the wound, staining the white bedspread as it dripped. Dennis swallowed heavily, either she would snap out of her strange trance, or he had just made everything a thousand times worse. 
	She gripped the shard in her thumb and forefinger, pulling it loose and discarding it on the floor. The wound did not look deep, but Dennis had surprised her, and she dragged her tongue across the cut, sampling the blood. When her eyes returned and met his, he knew that he was done for.
	 She swiped, lightning fast, and the lamp fell from Dennis' hands in pieces, she had cut the wooden stand with her claws as if it were made of butter. He felt her fist close on his collar, and she lifted him clear off the ground by his dress shirt. She flipped him over, slamming him down on the bed. He bounced as he settled, stunned, and Xhe crouched over him, flexing her fingers in anticipation, deciding where she ought to cut him, perhaps?
	Dennis was confused, rattled, he didn't understand, couldn't process what was happening to him. Like the classic story of the faithful dog bitten by a rabid animal and turned feral, Xhe seemed out of her mind, and out of control.
	“Why are you doing this?” He wheezed, as his breath returned to him.
	“You really don't know?” She hissed through clenched teeth. “All this time on Borealis and you've not figured it out yet?”
	But he did know, he understood it now, their strange culture, their strained interactions, the social hierarchy and the constant, unending struggle for dominance. Xhe had reached her limit, and based on the knowledge he had gained over the week he had been on the planet, he was surprised she had lasted as long as she had. Their dynamic had been doomed from the start, no Borealan would tolerate being subordinate to someone like him for long, orders or otherwise. The knowledge was hard won, and came at a price, there was no going back now.
	But he wouldn't just give in and submit, not in the way she wanted. She couldn't seriously hurt him, it would be proof to the Patriarch that she had ignored his instructions. Yet he couldn't call for help. Xhe was supposed to be protecting him, there were no other guards and his cries would not travel beyond the stone walls of the embassy. That left only one logical course of action, that Xhe would attempt to dominate him without injuring him, and based on prior experience, the best way to do that was through sex.
	He should be afraid, yet to his surprise he felt strangely calm now. This was all familiar to him, he knew what to expect, where this would lead. The now all too recognizable pang of arousal stirred his loins, and he realized that he wanted her to do it. It was fruitless to try to deny it now, the damned mad cats had given him a taste for this kind of treatment. The admission sent a surge of guilty excitement through his body, and he began to tremble as he felt Xhe's hot breath on his neck. 
	Xhe jammed her hand into his growing bulge, groping him through his pants. He gasped and squirmed, but she used her other hand to grip him by the neck, squeezing his windpipe shut with her powerful fingers, her curved claws pricking his skin. She chuckled, and shot him a mocking look.
	“You're into this, aren't you? Don't tell me you've started to enjoy it...”
	She held his neck, and he gagged, unable to reply as his face began to redden. 
	“You stink of her, that furry bitch. I can barely smell you under her pheromones. She's marked you, she's saying that she owns you now. Did you know that? Did she tell you? Or did she just let you walk around giving off her stink?”
	Again she held his neck, and he couldn't reply. He raised his hands to her wrist and began to tug at it, starting to panic a little as she strangled him. 
	“I could choke you, Dennis. They made me your secretary, your underling, but you're completely inferior to me. I could choke the life out of you right here, right now, and what could you do about it? Nothing.”
	Dennis growled through his closed throat, a primal sound he had never heard himself make before. He found the cut from the lamp's bulb that he had broken on her wrist, and jammed his thumb into the wound. Xhe yowled, and withdrew her hand from his throat, clutching at her wrist as fresh blood flowed in fat droplets. 
	“That's something I can do.” Dennis coughed, rubbing his neck where her hand had left a red indent in his skin. “You're my goddamned secretary, I'm not afraid of you. I'm not afraid of any of you anymore.”
	Xhe growled at him like an angry tiger, a low rumbling that set Dennis' teeth on edge and raised the hairs on his arms. Million year old instincts were telling him to fear the dangerous animal, but he had Xhe figured out. He knew she couldn't seriously hurt him, she was too afraid of the Patriarch. 
	It was the simple truth of these brutish aliens, as big and bad as they were, there was always someone bigger and badder who they feared. 
	“I didn't rat out the guard, and I won't rat you out either. That's not the kind of guy I want to be, it's not how I want to solve my problems.”
	She cocked her heat, as if waiting for Dennis to make the first move.
	He rose to his feet, and stood on the large bed, meeting Xhe at eye level as she crouched aggressively, the fur on her long tail puffed out as if she had been electrocuted. 
	“You're not going to get over this, I know that much now, so let's fucking do it, give me your best shot.”
	She eyed him warily, hesitating. Had he confused her? Was she expecting some kind of trick? After a moment her lust got the better of her, and she pounced on him, forcing him down onto the mattress under her considerable weight. He fought and thrashed, but she closed her vice like grip around his wrists and pinned him down, locking her steely thighs around his waist. He groaned as he felt her mound press down into his firm erection, squashing it against his belly.
	“I'm gonna fuck you until I can't smell that sneaky Polar whore anymore, I knew she was planning something when she showed up at the embassy, they're always scheming...”
	The odd racial prejudice made Dennis chuckle, and Xhe watched him, confused by his reaction.
	“Are you not afraid of me?”
	“Nope.”
	Xhe snarled and pressed her teeth against the vulnerable flesh of his neck, letting strands of warm saliva dampen his ruined collar. He bit his lip and Xhe jumped as she sensed his cock throb underneath her. He laughed at her quizzical expression.
	“Not the reaction you wanted, secretary?”
	“Don't call me that!” She hissed angrily. “I'm bigger than you, stronger than you, you should...you should be afraid of me.”
	“Yeah, maybe if this was my first time. You're late to the party, Xhe.”
	She seethed, not just angry but seemingly aroused beyond reason, her face flushed red with blood, and he felt the heat from her loins increase, radiating through his layers of clothing, along with a conspicuous dampness that penetrated his underwear. His resistance aroused her, that must be it. Borealans were so quick to submit, to accept their social position, but humans prolonged the encounter beyond reason, continuing to fight even though they had lost. As Cola had said, without the leverage of physical violence, either because of human fragility, or in this case the fear of being discovered by a superior, the only course of action left was to fuck a human, until they begged for it to stop...or to continue. 
	Xhe was shivering now, drooling, unsure of what to do to him, though the desire was evident in her eyes as they played over his body. She came to a decision and began to pop off the buttons of his shirt with her claws, exposing his naked chest as she moved down. Whatever, he thought, he had other shirts. She pulled his spider fur tie up over his head and placed it on the bedside table, at least she was not so far gone as to forget its value. After all, it had kind of been a gift from her, much like his silverware. She had taken good care of him, and he regretted that it had come to this, that he had made her feel this way about him. It had taken him time to learn the customs and quirks of these aliens, it couldn't have played out any differently, but Xhe deserved better. Maybe he would tell her that when she had worked through her frustration,, it was the least he could do to thank her. 
	She tore open his shirt, and what few buttons remained were thrown loose, bouncing on the floor with a click as she ran her fingertips down his chest, her sharp claws leaving red trails. He gasped, feeling the sting in his skin. 
	“We'll see how sure of yourself you are when I've broken you, and then you'll be the one servicing me on demand, not the other way around.”
	“That implies you can break me.” He replied.
	Xhe shuddered, and squeezed him between her muscular thighs, her eyes almost rolling back into her head as she fumed. 
	The skin on her thick thighs was as soft as silk, and as smooth as the polished marble in the hallway. He traced their length with his eyes, up to the hem of her robe, hiked up in her sitting position and barely preserving her modesty. He could feel that she wasn't wearing any underwear as her groin pressed down on the crotch of his pants. Keeping his wrists pinned with her long arms, her sinewy, dexterous tail snaked up from behind her to undo the catch that held her robe together. The fabric loosened and sloughed off her body slowly as she shrugged to help along, exposing her toned shoulders. It paused for a moment, hanging on her protruding breasts before falling in a pile around her hourglass waist. She hooked the robe with her tail and pulled it away, discarding it off the side of the bed and onto the floor, out of view. Her massive breasts hung heavily, swaying as she breathed, their smooth, pink surface entirely different from Ursi's velvet fur, and somewhat smaller. But then again Ursi was giant, even by Borealan standards. 
	Dennis felt butterflies in his belly as his gaze lingered on her toned abs, bunches of firm, taut muscle that flexed and bulged as she held him down. Xhe was a powerful creature, unassuming in her usual elegant attire and her modest mannerisms, but no less another hardy daughter of Borealis once unchained. He winced as she leaned in and raked her rough tongue across his throat, her warm saliva leaving a cooling trail on his skin. He struggled, writhing and twisting in her grip, not through any real desire to escape, but because he knew it would arouse her. Like a cat starved of the chase playing with a struggling mouse. She pinched his earlobe in her sharp fangs, and tugged it painfully, the sensation making him weak at the knees. She moved down his neck and towards his shoulder, alternating between sucking kisses and forceful bites, just hard and deep enough to get a reaction from him.
	She pressed her lips against the nape of his neck, like a predator about to deliver the killing blow, and when he didn't react in the way she had wanted, she pushed her pointed teeth through his skin. He winced as he he felt the forceful bite draw blood, and gritted his teeth as he felt her rough, textured tongue drag across the punctures, sampling it. 
	“Sweet, watery...” She murmured. He felt her grip on his wrists tighten and her thighs clench around him as she savored his taste, the flavor of a subdued challenger fueling her primal lust. The bite wound was sore and the skin around it was rapidly reddening, but it wasn't deep enough to worry him. 
	Now that she had him, Xhe couldn't seem to decide what she wanted to do with him. She sat on top of him, her tail flicking back and forth indecisively as her hot, moist groin leaked through his pants. Perhaps she was having second thoughts about disobeying the Patriarch? 
	After a moment of hesitation she slid off his throbbing bulge, and crawled up his body, she released one of his arms, then quickly replaced her hand with her sinewy tail in order to keep him pinned to the bed. Her engorged, pink loins dripped her viscous juices along his belly and up his chest. She came to a stop over his head, her cool, smooth thighs parked around his ears and her inflamed genitals poised over his face. Her rosy, glistening folds dribbled her warm excitement on his cheek, and her opening twitched and winked above him, her anticipation palpable. She squeezed her thighs around his head, threatening to pop him like a cantaloupe, the smooth fat giving way to muscle as hard as iron. She lowered her pulsing groin down towards his face, parting the thick, puffy lips with her free hand and exposing the wet flesh within.  
	Dennis had anticipated this, these aliens were obsessed with the human tongue, its smoothness and agility apparently circulated as a legend among the Borealan women. Thanks to his time with Cola and Ursi, he was confident that he could finish her off quickly, and maybe then she would calm down and come to her senses. 
	She lowered her mound into his face, the soft tuft of her pubic fur tickling his nose. He pressed his lips against her sex, the heat it emanated prickling his skin. She was positively drooling, thick strands of her excitement leaking onto his face and into his mouth, it was almost unpleasant. She tasted of salt and metal, aroused beyond reason. Sitting on his face now, she grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged somewhat painfully, unable to stop herself from rolling her wide hips and grinding into his mouth, her thighs quivering around his head. 
	He dragged his tongue along the length of her vulva, teasing the sensitive flesh and sending a shudder through her body that translated back down through her legs. As he reached the peak, he tweaked the tip of her tender, protruding clitoris and she doubled over, her rock hard abdominal muscles flexing through her pale skin as her breasts hung above him, swaying as she gasped in surprise. She did not have Ursi's experience, and she was not in control, he might be able to turn this situation around. 
	He took advantage of her surprise and twisted one arm free of her hand, gripping her hip for leverage as he delved deeper into her with his roving tongue. He explored the creases and folds, sucking and tugging at her stiff nub with his lips. She gripped his hand, but did not pull it away from her waist, instead uncoiling her tail from the second and allowing it to rise to her slippery hole. She jumped as his fingers pushed into her tight tunnel, her muscles striving to pull them deeper, massaging them as thick globs of her nectar rolled down his palm. She squirmed her hips, as if trying to scratch some terrible itch deep inside her, but Dennis hung on to her, keeping up the pressure as she shut her eyes tightly and brought her hands up to her reddening cheeks. 
	She was fucking his face in earnest now, rolling and grinding in a primal dance, smearing her juices on his skin and staining the white bed sheets. One of her hands left her red face, and found her heavy breast, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as Dennis peered up at her over her pubic mound. Her long tongue flashed forth to lick her lips, and her eyes remained closed, she was lost in some instinctual trance. 
	Dennis probed where he knew her weak spot to be, beckoning with his fingers inside her tunnel as it clenched and flexed around him, her toned muscles crushing him painfully as her body reacted to his attentions. He found it, and her eyes flew open, her mouth wide and gasping as he drove his fingers mercilessly into the delicate flesh. She fell forward, doubled over, resting her elbows on the mattress above him as she looked back at him, her head upside down and her long, orange hair billowing out over the pillows. He clung on to her, digging his fingers into her supple flesh as he gripped her waist with one hand, and continued to massage her with the other, sucking her hard clitoris between his lips and playing his tongue over its surface. 
	She made a noise like she had been punched in the gut, a low 'oh fuck' grunt that curled Dennis' lips into a grin, even as he used them to suck and probe her increasingly sensitive loins. She was so much taller than him, her head seemed so far away as her silky thighs shuddered and clenched rhythmically around his face, in time with his cruel teasing. He fucked her harder with his fingers now, increasing the pace as he stimulated her with his tongue, trapping her inflamed button between his tongue and his teeth. She pushed down with her hips, beside herself as she tried to get more, harder, faster, deeper, anything that might drive her closer to the edge. His face was entirely buried in her crotch now, and he could no longer see her pained expressions or appreciate the weighty bouncing of her breasts, but he could hear her breath coming in ragged bursts, and feel the moans and guttural vocalizations deep in her belly as he kissed and mouthed. 
	She squirmed on top of him, and he dug his fingers into the soft meat of her butt, the lewd, wet sounds of her organ trying to suck his fingers deeper inside her made his erection strain against the fabric of his clothing. She let out a sharp cry, and he delivered a finishing blow, grinding his fingers into the upper wall of her tunnel and applying suction to her clitoris, raking its shiny, hard surface with his tongue. 
	He winced as she crushed his fingers, the strong muscles in her pelvis contracting and squeezing them as she orgasmed, the waves of pleasure rippling through her body like electric shocks. She convulsed, slipping off his face and burying her head in the pillows as she drenched the mattress with her emission, passing a hand between her soaking thighs to rub fiercely, drawing out her climax for as long as she could stand it. She bucked her hips, trying in vain to fuck the air as a low whine escaped her lips, muffled by one of the cushions. 
	Dennis wiped his hand on the bed sheets, and tried to scrape her come off his face as it dripped down his chin in blobs. Borealans were messy lovers, it was no wonder Xhe had been able to smell Ursi's scent on him, even after he had bathed.   
	He looked back at Xhe as she rested with her butt in the air, the perfect, round cheeks dimpled with toned muscle, and her fingers still nursing her dripping mound, easing gently between her sore labia. Her stripey, orange tail drooped to one side, like a tired snake. 
	As Dennis watched her rubbing and crooning softly, almost as if she were presenting herself to him, a new hunger rose in his belly and his member surged in his pants, straining to break free of its confines. He wasn't done with her yet.
	He struggled to remove his belt and take off the rest of his clothes, stained with Xhe's essence, and discarded his pants on the floor. His erection bounced loose, as hard as he had ever felt it, veins protruding grotesquely in anticipation. He was seeing red, a new, unfamiliar lust overcame him and he crawled over the mattress towards Xhe on his knees. He gripped the base of her furry tail in his fist, and pulled her butt down to crotch height, tugging roughly on the appendage. She yowled in pain and looked over her shoulder at him, surprise in her eyes, but something else too. A deeper lust, as she opened her legs, lowering herself in compliance. 
	He pushed his throbbing shaft against her groin, sliding it up and down as her juices glazed it in a slippery, shiny layer. She shuddered, still sensitive from the previous orgasm, but Dennis didn't care. He was tired of these aliens treating him however they liked, and as much as he had grown to enjoy their cruel attentions, payback was long overdue. He tugged her tail again at the base, and a low, sultry growl escaped her pursed lips. He hadn't expected that reaction. Was the base of her tail an erogenous zone? He gripped it in his hand and used it as leverage to slam her backwards, impaling her on his cock, her gooey, slippery tunnel engulfing it all the way to the base. Xhe jerked, arching her back as he met resistance in her depths, his glans pressing into her deepest reaches as her sinewy muscles wrapped around him. Another rough tug on her tail saw her vaginal walls close on him like a vice as she shivered and wrapped one of the white pillows in her muscular arms, sinking her teeth into the fabric. 
	He began to move, slowly at first, the heat of her groin almost unbearable to him. As he pumped faster, she began to move with him, pushing back to meet his thrusts in rhythm, trying to drive him deeper inside her as her sticky juices leaked down her inner thighs. The textured lining of her tunnel dragged across his skin, folds and wrinkles making him twitch and sending rolling shivers down his spine as they teased him. She was so wet, so slippery, but every time she contracted around his shaft he felt the exquisite details and contours of her organ jump out at him, sending sparks of pleasure through his brain.
	He delved his fingers into the meat of her ass, clawing at her flesh as they fucked. Her skin was so smooth and inviting, pulled taut over the layer of squashy, pliant fat, which concealed firm, powerful muscle beneath it. Her ass alone probably weighed as much as his torso. Xhe could rend him in half like so much tissue paper if she were so inclined, but the idea that he could overcome such an impressive creature through sheer force of will demonstrated the psychological aspect of the Borealan social system. It was one thing to be of strong body, quite another to be of strong mind, and with the threat of physical violence annulled, Dennis found himself on top. Both literally and figuratively. 
	Her smooth cheeks clapped against his belly, and he admired the long dimple that ran down her spine, subtle muscle protruding under her clear skin on her back and shoulders. The orange fur of her tail extended a short distance up her lower back, ending perhaps a quarter of the way along. She rolled her hips in a circular motion, stimulating his aching member in new and unexpected ways. She pressed his hardness against her walls, grinding and scraping as if trying to scour her insides, and he buckled somewhat, leaning forward and over her massive butt. He saw dark spots before his eyes, and jolts of electricity ran up and down his body as their vigorous dance continued. 
	“Harder...” He heard her grunt into her pillow, and he yanked her tail in response, hammering her with as much force as he could muster. She let out a kind of half-sigh, half-laugh, her body quivering as his firm member pushed deeper, her excitement dripping onto the sheets in thick strands. He didn't have to worry about hurting her, humans were too frail, but for a moment the image of what a Borealan male must look like during sex flashed before his eyes. He had heard that reproductive sex between Borealans usually followed a fight, and was a short, brutal affair, with the victor taking full advantage of their power over the loser. It ensured that only the strongest genes were passed on, and that the species as a whole was strengthened and bolstered. He would be mating with Xhe right now if they were the same species, and her body responded to him as if that were the case, milking his cock, her head buried in the pillows and her ass raised in the air so that his seed would flood her organ when he came. The idea drove him harder and faster, gripping her tail and thrusting ever deeper as Xhe chewed the pillow and her firm breasts deformed against the mattress. 
	Again her fingers crept between her thick thighs, and she rubbed her sopping mound as he pounded her from behind, getting herself off as her second climax drew closer. Her fingers moved in a blur, Dennis pulled her tail again and she convulsed in response, a low moan emanating from the far end of the bed.
	Xhe hissed something in Borealan that sounded like an insult, or a curse, and he felt her slick, velvet walls close on him like a fist. She shuddered and whined as a fresh orgasm wracked her tense body, her aching muscles contracting and bulging as she came over Dennis' cock, pushing out clear fluid around it that leaked down her legs. He held on to her, and a white haze filled his vision as he emptied into her eager, twitching hole. Every throbbing spasm of his muscles scratched that terrible itch deep within him, every new burst of thick, ropy ejaculate that he dumped inside her sent a tide of crippling pleasure through his body. He surfed on the rolling wave of euphoria as his cock jumped and pulsed in her warm tunnel, expending the last of his semen deep inside her womb. Xhe rubbed herself gently, shivering and crooning as she felt the warm globs of his emission roll down into her belly, satisfying her most base and primal urges. She had ruined his pillow, tearing it with her sharp incisors until it was nothing more than a torn, damp mess leaking feathers. 
	She slid off him, lying on her belly as syrupy, cloudy clumps of his come leaked slowly from her splayed, swollen lips, breathing heavily and pressing her thighs together as she rode out the last of the aftershocks. 
	Dennis sat and closed his eyes, unable to do much more than simply experience the afterglow as it drowned his senses and ran its tingling fingers up and down his spine.
 
	After a few minutes, his mind slowly clawed its way back to prominence, and he looked around the room. The bed was demolished, their shared juices stained the mattress and the sheets, the pillows were in tatters, and spots of crimson blood stood out against the white fabric, whose he couldn't be sure. Xhe was fast asleep, sticky and still leaking their combined fluids. Dennis stepped gently off the bed, and picked up the pieces of broken glass that were scattered on the floor, lest Xhe forget and step in them with her bare feet when she awoke. He retrieved her robe, and lay it over her like a blanket, concerned that she might get too cold. He couldn't do much else for her in the state she was in, but as he watched her chest rise and fall, and her ears twitch as she dreamed, an odd sense of satisfaction tickled his brain. He had beaten her at her own game, and given her what she had so badly wanted in the process. In a way, she might appreciate that more than any thanks he could express for her patient support up until this point.
	He retreated to the bathroom, and did his best to wash off the mess they had made together. Fortunately, being in the embassy he was able to find clean clothes, and as he left the room he paused to recover his spider fur necktie. He exited via the marble hall, doing his best to close the door as quietly as possible, then set off down the paved road in the direction of Ursi's residence. 

CHAPTER 9: LOVE 'EM AND LEAVE 'EM

	Ursi could hardly contain herself as he relayed the story to her, sitting together before her roaring fire on the massive couch, the flames licking at the metal grate. She suppressed a chuckle as she sipped daintily from a wooden mug, her long legs crossed as Dennis finished telling her about his encounter with Xhe.
	“So the lawyer becomes a lion tamer. How embarrassing for your poor secretary, Dennis. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?” She handed him the mug and he took a long draw, the sweet taste of 'raises the hair' tickling his throat. “I'm surprised that the poor girl lasted as long as she did.” Ursi narrowed her eyes at him. “I hope you don't intend to try the same tricks on me, ambassador.” 
	Dennis blushed a little, and stammered a reply.
	“No, I...I like the way you make me feel.”
	“Is that so?” She crooned, leaning in on him and examining his expression as his face reddened. He changed the subject quickly as she smirked at him. 
	“I sent a message to the UN, I should receive a reply by tomorrow.”
	“Good, good...”
	They sat in silence for a minute or two, watching the orange fire dance in the hearth. Dennis felt a little awkward, Ursi always seemed to know what to say, she was always so eloquent and calculated, now she seemed almost worried. He was about to ask if something was wrong, but she interrupted his thought, placing her large, furry hand on his shoulder.
	“Dennis, if you succeed in the task I have assigned you, and my people relocate to Earth, what will you do?”
	He thought for a moment, not really understanding the question.
	“My work is here, I'm the ambassador to Earth, I have at least another five months stationed in Elysia before I'd be forced to return to Earth.”
	“Well, I meant that, we would be separated.”
	Dennis' heart raced in his chest, what was she saying?
	“I don't...understand.”
	She took the mug back from him and took a long draw, then placed it on a small table by the arm rest of the couch. Her white fur took on an orange hue as she sat in the gloom and stared at the fireplace.
	“Perhaps I am not being clear. I have grown very fond of you Dennis. You are unique, both in the circumstances that brought you to Borealis, and your attitude towards the people who live here. There may only be a dozen humans alive who understand Borealans as well as you do now, and certainly fewer who have had as much...hands on experience as you have.”
	He watched her as she talked, her blue eyes reflected the firelight, betraying the emotion hiding under her veneer of formality.
	“While it may not be fair to tear you away from the people of Elysia, a Queen must consider the welfare of her own subjects above all others, and I am somewhat spoiled. I'm used to getting the things I want. I believe that you could provide a crucial service to my people, Dennis. If everything goes according to plan, and your government accepts my plea for aide, I would have you stay by my side as my advisor, as an advocate for my people, as a bridge between cultures, and perhaps...”
	She trailed off, and Dennis watched her expectantly, his heart thumping in his chest. 
	“It is not a demand even a Queen can make, nor a Regent, you are not one of my subjects, you are not under my employ, you are not part of my pack. But if it pleased you, we might...stay together?”
	Dennis' head swam, and he felt butterflies in his belly as he tried to process what she was asking.
	“Y-You want me to come back to Earth with you, and live with you?”
	“I'm not familiar with human customs where such matters are concerned, Borealans are generally more direct, but human relationships are...odd. If you don't want to, that's-”
	“No, no! Of course I want to! Ursi, you-you're...” He struggled to find the words, desperate to express how he felt about her, but his vocabulary failed him. He gazed at her, and she peered back, a mixture of worry and expectation etched in her expression. Her cool, blue eyes met his and courage welled up inside him, warming him from within as if there were a fire in his belly. He hopped off the couch and stood at eye level with the seated Borealan. He reached out and took her oversized hand in his, her white fur tickling his palm.
	“Ursi, I've only been with you for a couple of days, but I've never felt closer to anyone. Nobody has ever made me feel the way I do when I'm with you. You said that you could make me love you, and...you succeeded.” 
	Ursi beamed, and pulled him towards her by the hand, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him to her furry bosom. Her familiar scent filled his nose, and her warmth permeated his body.
	“You make me glad, ambassador.”
	They lay together on the leather couch, the fire warming them as they enjoyed the silence together, interrupted only by the crackling of the flames in the hearth. After a few minutes of contemplation, Ursi ran her fingers through his hair, making him shiver happily and press his face into her welcoming coat. 
	“The day has been long, what say we go to bed? The last day of the eclipse is tomorrow.”
	He nodded, excitement rising in his chest as she stood up to lead him away by the hand. He followed her down the hall, her wide hips rolling as she walked, scantily clad in a light, almost transparent fabric that did little to cover her impressive figure. They walked down one of the long corridors lined with carved, wooden busts and tapestries that joined the isolated segments of her dwelling, then turned off to a doorway that led to an expansive bedroom. Her bed was immense, you could have parked a shuttle on it, and it was layered with finely embroidered sheets and soft pillows, more like a nest than anything resembling a human bed. The floor was carpeted with soft, bushy material, some kind of animal fur perhaps. There were more odd Borealan decorations on the walls of this room too, silken curtains concealing nothing in particular, tapestries depicting snowy landscapes and glaciers, and potted plants, colorful flowers blooming on their stalks. 
	“No guards this time, just us.” She commented, releasing his hand and walking over to the bed, leaving him by the door. Keeping her back to him, she raised a hand to her shoulder to slip off the strap of the light fabric gown she was wearing. She did the same on the other side, and the clothing floated to the floor gently to fall in a pile around her feet. It didn't reveal anything Dennis couldn't see already, but as she took an elegant step out of the pile of clothes and towards the bed, the soft meat of her buttocks rolling enticingly as she walked, Dennis felt his renewed erection straining against his underwear.  
	Ursi climbed onto the bed on her hands and knees, presenting herself to him, then lay down in her nest of pillows, turning to face him, her weighty breasts hanging attractively, now free of their supports. She patted the empty space next to her expectantly, then chuckled as he tried to pull off his clothes and walk towards her at the same time, discarding his shirt then getting tangled in his pants and almost tripping. Finally free of his clothing, and sporting an embarrassingly large erection, he climbed up onto the bed and crawled over into her embrace.
	Her soft fur tickled the skin all over his body as she held him close, squashing him against her massive breasts and her paunchy belly. He sunk his fingers into her hair, grabbing handfuls of the pliant fat beneath. She laughed and wriggled as he groped.
	“What are you doing, Dennis? Come here.”
	She grasped his face between her fluffy hands, and angled it towards her waiting lips. She slipped him a sedating kiss, slow and passionate, her warm tongue teasing him with its deft, calculated motions. She hooked a hand behind his head and lowered him to the bed as he felt his muscles grow weak, her long, deep embrace sapping the energy from his body as if she were some kind of vampire. 
	She lay him flat, his legs useless and trembling, then broke off her kiss, leaving him gasping and wanting. It was such a stark contrast to what he had felt when he had overcome Xhe, the power, the brutish lust concentrated in his loins, now replaced with a vulnerability and a fluttering in his chest that made him feel as if he might melt away into a puddle where he lay. 
	Ursi lay next to him on her side, stroking his mast with her soft hand, her fat breasts pressing together as she gazed down at him. 
	“You've never really just...made love, in the time you've been here. Have you?”
	Dennis shook his head, trying to stay alert as she gently stroked him up and down.
	“We could make love, would you like that? Just the two of us?” 
	He nodded, swallowing hard.
	She leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on his neck, her warm, meaty lips pressing wetly against his skin. His member pulsed in her hand, and she squeezed it, making his back arch off the mattress. She chuckled and resumed her slow stroking, gripping his shaft in her fluffy palm and tugging up and down, her fine hairs tickling his skin. She closed her thumb and forefinger around his tender glans, compressing it gently as she moved, and he raised his arms to cover his face as the powerful stimulation overloaded his brain. Maybe it was her obvious skill, maybe it was her overpowering charisma, but when he was under Ursi's spell he felt as if his heart might explode in his chest at every light touch and sultry glance. He gasped as he felt her rub the tip of his penis with the soft, spongy pad of her finger, lubricated by his leaking precum as she made small, circular motions. 
	She shifted position, rising to kneel over him so she could make use of her other hand. She continued to stroke him with the left, then slipped the right between his thighs, cradling his balls in her palm and gently squeezing them. He gritted his teeth as her downy fur tickled the sensitive skin, and the gentle pressure she applied sent a flood of warmth through his lower body. 
	She increased the pace and the pressure, and Dennis brought a finger to his mouth, biting it in an attempt to distract from her rhythmic pumping. His hips rose off the bed, pushing into the air, trying to thrust deeper into her warm hand of their own accord. Holding the shaft in her palm, she rubbed the tip with her padded thumb, holding him like a joystick as his leaking juices matted her fur. 
	“S-slow down Ursi, I'll come...” He complained, and she grinned down at him. 
	“You won't come until I tell you to, now lower your arms.”
	He complied, revealing his burning face as she loomed over him, her pace slower, but still squeezing softly and making his eyelids flutter. 
	“I think you'll like this.” She crooned.
	He jumped as he felt her long, fuzzy tail tickle his ear. It curled under his head, far stronger than it looked, and wrapped around him, covering his eyes. His world went dark, and he tugged at the sinewy appendage with his hands.
	“What are you doing Ursi?”
	“Relax, you'll enjoy it...”
	He lowered his arms and waited, his heart thumping in his chest. He felt oddly vulnerable, he couldn't see what she was doing. He flinched and quickly stifled a cry as Ursi teased him with her furry hands. She ran her soft fur over his balls, the strands of hair tickling him, and added a twisting motion to her handjob. The pleasure was somehow amplified a hundred times with the presence of the blindfold. Dennis' whole body became sensitive, expectant, unsure of how and where she would touch him, unable to know until the sensation coursed through his nervous system like an electric shock. The anticipation might drive him crazy. 
	She traced her claws lightly down his chest, and he groaned as the unexpected sensation burned through his brain, tickling and stinging. He clamped his legs together reflexively, but her other hand was already there, stroking and squeezing his inner thigh as he squirmed and bucked in her grip. One of her hands returned to his shaft, milking him more vigorously now, kneading the meat of his cock as if trying to squeeze his essence out of him by force. Her other hand roamed over his body, pricking him with her claws or running them lightly across his skin in unexpected places. She tickled him with her silky fur, like being teased with a feather, a nipple, his neck, his thigh, he couldn't stand it, his whole body was electrified, under constant assault by his unseen lover. 
	Suddenly she stopped, taking her hands off him. He waited, breathing heavily, his member bouncing in time with his beating heart, the anticipation of her deft hands returning almost too much to bear. It went on, and he became impatient, his aching erection twitching in the cool air. 
	“What gives?” He complained.
	He froze, biting his lip as he felt Ursi's hot breath tickle the sensitive head of his cock. She blew warm air on him, and he shuddered, rubbing his thighs together and trying not to lose the thread of his sanity. He couldn't see what she was doing, but if he had to guess, her soft lips were poised barely an inch above his glans, curled into a cruel grin as she watched him struggle to keep it together. 
	He yelped as she kissed the tip of his penis, her smooth, pursed lips glancing his tender flesh, lingering for just a moment, then withdrawing with a wet pop. Dennis clawed at his red cheeks with his fingers, unable to endure any longer.
	“Damn it Ursi, I can't stand it!”
	He heard her laugh at him, then her slippery, puffy lips enclosed the head of his cock, sucking it into her hot mouth. Dennis let slip the same vocalization he had made the time he had broken his toe against a metal table in his apartment. He clenched his fists, his fingernails digging into his palms as her textured, agile tongue curled around him, cradling his glans in its warm, slimy embrace. 
	Ursi's mouth, divine, the dexterous, skilled tongue she had used so many times to kiss him until he felt his brain would boil out of his skull now wrapped around his member. Jolts of pleasure ran up his spine, almost painful in their intensity, he struggled to keep his hips still, so as not to drive his shaft into her throat too quickly and choke her. Her pace wasn't helping, as she slowly slid her wet lips down his pulsing shaft, her rough, textured tongue coiling around him as she went, applying just enough pressure to make him squirm and gasp as the bumps and papillae raked his tender flesh. It didn't hurt, not quite. 
	Her lips reached the base, and she kissed his belly as her long tongue slid down the underside of his cock and left her mouth to lick his testicles. Her powerful throat contracted around the head, massaging him as she swallowed her pooling saliva. The delicate, slick inner lining of her cheeks rubbed against the length of his organ, and her heat radiated through it. Dennis was delirious, he felt as if his spirit had left his body and was floating above them. He rolled his hips methodically as she held him down with a heavy hand, primal instincts taking the load off his beleaguered mind as he faded in and out. 
	She slid her mouth back up his shaft, pausing to paint the sensitive head with her tongue, then slowly pressed down on him again, repeating the maddening process once more as he jerked and groaned, his only experience of the world now velvet darkness and the cruel pleasure of Ursi's practiced mouth. She pushed his member deep into her warm throat, holding it as her muscles spasmed, suppressing her gag reflex, then withdrew, strings of her saliva leaking down into his pubic hair.  
	She walked her lips down his cock, pausing to suck and flick the sensitive spot below the head, making him shiver and tremble. She increased her speed, fucking him with her mouth now as his lower body went numb and all he could do was try to suppress his mounting orgasm. Every time the head of his member hit the back of her warm throat, an unbecoming moan escaped his lips, as if she were playing him like some kind of human instrument. The wet, sucking pressure overcame him, and he felt his climax well deep inside his pelvis.
	“Argh! Ursi I'm gonna-”
	She gripped the base of his cock firmly in her hand, cutting off his orgasm painfully as he bucked and cursed. She uncoiled her tail from his eyes, and he glared at her as she came back into focus, a smug smirk on her face. Dennis rose to a sitting position, but before he could say anything she took his burning face in her hands, a little wet and matted with her saliva, and pushed her tongue past his lips. She met him with a slow, soothing kiss, the kind she knew would satiate him, and as her powerful tongue filled his head, he sank obediently into her soft fur. She drained the resistance from his muscles, the copper sting of her agile organ playing over his taste buds as it coiled around his tongue, slippery and warm. 
	She released him and he relaxed into her ample cleavage, his face coming to rest in her downy hair, her insulating fat cushioning his head as he breathed in her scent. He sunk his hands into her pliant flesh, deforming the massive globes under his fingers and probing for the firm breast tissue beneath. Ursi twisted her spine, her breathing becoming heavy as he trapped an engorged nipple in his fingers, tweaking and tugging it as he roved. He caught the second in his lips, pinching it between his teeth and his tongue as he sucked it into his mouth, and Ursi gasped, her chubby thighs closing around him and her tail wrapping around his torso. She hugged him close, running her fingers through his hair as he sucked and chewed. He rubbed his face in her silken coat, nuzzling and biting as Ursi began to lean back, her eyes low and sultry. She lowered them down until he was lying on top of her, and she was on her back, gravity fighting Dennis for possession of her heavy breasts. 
	She pushed the top of his head, easing him lower, and he slid down her long torso, groping her enticing flesh and mouthing her plump body. The Polar variety of Borealan did not seem to shed their hair, and no stray strands stuck to his lips or irritated his tongue. He moved over her paunchy belly, then down to her hips, where her weight was beautifully distributed to give her a heavy ass and thick thighs. Knowing what she expected, he pushed his face between them, and the heat of her moist loins radiated up to meet him. Her familiar musk set his mouth watering, and he lowered his head, spreading her puffy, pink lips with his fingers. A trail of clear nectar leaked free, and in revenge for her earlier treatment, he breathed warm air on her exposed flesh. She shuddered, her thighs quaking on either side of his head. 
	“Don't get any ideas.” She gasped, and delved her fingers into his hair, gripping a handful and forcing him down into her groin, his nose pressing into the silky fur of her mound. His cock jumped, hard again as he realized with a creeping embarrassment that he had come to associate the feeling of having his hair pulled with sex. The damn cats did it so often. His face flushing again, he pushed his tongue between her fleshy labia, and dragged it up her vulva, pausing beneath the clitoral hood to tease her firm nub, engorged with her excitement. Her metallic, salty flavor flooded his mouth as she writhed, tugging at his hair as he mouthed and licked. She cursed in Borealan.
	“You're getting too good at this, Ambassador. It's becoming a problem.”
	He chuckled into her loins, then circled her opening with the tip of his tongue. She jumped, and gazed down at him over the fluffy mounds of her bosom, her eyes unfocused as she waited for him to enter her. He pushed a finger into her tight hole, sliding up to the knuckle, almost frictionless despite her fleshy, velvet walls restricting him. She rocked her head back, a low growl rumbling through her body, her grip on his hair tightening and her muscles contracting around his digit. He returned to her hard protrusion, dragging the smooth surface of his tongue over the nub and drawing shapes on it with the tip. He moved his finger slowly, torturously, ensuring it glanced her weak spot on the way in and out as her viscous juices leaked around his hand. She squeezed his head between her legs and tried to push him deeper, and he inserted a second finger. She groaned and rolled her hips, forcing him against the textured, fleshy walls of her vagina. He sucked her clitoris between his lips, trapping it, and raked his tongue over its smooth surface. Ursi arched her back, and he felt his bones shake as she groaned. She pulled him up by the hair, his face dripping with her stringy excitement, and she sat up, panting and wiping a stray strand of saliva from the corner of her mouth. Her sapphire blue eyes leered at him hungrily. 
	“Enough teasing, fuck me.”
	She released his hair and he climbed up her body, positioning his throbbing member over her leaking, moist entrance. Even at arms length, her huge frame tickled his chest with its downy fur as he leaned over her, and his face came to rest level with her chest. She gripped his butt in her huge hand, her dull claws pricking his skin, and pulled him inside her. 
	He collapsed onto her, his limbs turning to jelly as she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him against her chubby, furry body. He broke through the entrance of her slick tunnel, her hot, slimy walls drawing him deeper, impossibly tight as her steely muscles clenched around him. She exhaled warm air into his hair in a drawn out sigh, ruffling it as he moaned into her fur. The folds and bumps of her vagina scoured his sensitive skin, drowning his cock in her thick, gooey syrup as he thrusted. 
	He felt as if he were melting, the heat and pressure from her inflamed loins were unbearable, maddening. She ran her hands over his naked back and down to his ass, stroking with her furry palms and teasing his skin with her claws. His own hands quested through her soft coat, searching out the irresistible fat beneath. He grabbed handfuls off her butt and hips, sinking his fingers into her flesh, tugging at her love handles and her meaty belly. Ursi had marveled at the suitability of the human tongue for pleasuring Borealans, but the true marvel here was her body. Warm, inviting, shapely, soft and firm in all the right places, a playground for humans, so obsessed with tactile sensation. 
	“You're all over me, it tickles.” She complained, then jumped as his stiff member pushed deep inside her, scraping the reaches of her tunnel.
	“Urgh, I need it deeper...” She growled. Holding him to her body with one arm, like a mother monkey clinging to its baby, she used the other to flip over on top of him. Dennis found himself on his back, looking up at Ursi as she loomed over him, her huge breasts hanging low, almost obscuring his vision. Her strong thighs clenched around his hips, and her hands came to rest either side of his head. She looked down at him, her face about a foot further up the bed than his. As her immense weight crushed his pelvis, squashing him deeper into the soft mattress, he felt his hard member digging further inside her. 
	Ursi's eyes rolled back into her head and she let out a satisfied grunt.
	“That's more like it, tell me if I'm hurting you, ok?”
	Dennis nodded, and she began to move her hips, slowly, gently, pressing down on him and driving his shaft deep into her tunnel. Her thick juices rolled down out of her loins, dripping between his legs and staining the sheets. 
	 She was so heavy, large enough to crush the wind out of his lungs as she began to bounce on top of him, her massive, wide hips making him sink into the mattress with every downward thrust. The damn bed springs must be made out of military grade hull material, two Borealans of her size going at it in earnest would probably trash the entire room. Ursi knew her strength though, and by Borealan standards she was a gentle and considerate lover, she ensured the majority of her weight was placed on her knees and arms, but let just enough fall on him to ensure he knew who was in control. 
	She added a spin to her movement, rolling and twisting her hips on top of him, her pace ever faster and more violent. He couldn't do much besides gasp and writhe under her bulk, as she forced him deeper than he could have imagined was possible. His cock was banging against the limit of her vaginal canal, but it didn't seem to hurt her as it would a human woman. Her anatomy must be slightly different, her uterus perhaps placed differently. The deeper he went, the more she reacted, seemingly desperate to grind his member against her deepest, most intimate reaches. She rose to a sitting position, her long, white hair falling over her face in a mess of tangled strands and her excessive bust bounced as she moved on top of him. He wanted to raise his head, to see his shaft plunging into her, but he was worried he might catch a breast on a downward thrust and get a concussion. The last thing he needed was 'neck snapped by giant boob' inscribed on his death certificate.
	She pounded still faster, bouncing on top of him now, rebounding off the bed springs only to slam down even harder on the return, her mound meeting his belly with an audible slap. She took a break for a moment, grinding her pelvis forwards and backwards, driving his sore member into her burning, slimy walls. Her large fingers pushed through the silky fur of her pubic mound, pulling open her sopping lips so as to expose her sensitive clitoris and more easily stimulate the tender button of flesh.
	The lining of her tunnel clung to Dennis, almost as if her sticky juices were gluing him to her walls, her muscles rippled and spasmed, running up and down the length of his shaft like a thousand tiny fingers, each striving to scrape at his cock. He felt warm globs of her lubricant leak out of her, sliding down his shaft, over his balls, down his thighs, her excitement was palpable. Bathing thoroughly before returning to the embassy would be a kindness to Xhe. 
	Her short break apparently over, and her teeth biting into her lower lip, Ursi began to bounce again. Dennis' hips were sore and numb, but his member was throbbing and aching, longing for the climax she had denied him earlier. With one hand rubbing her mound, and another resting on Dennis's chest, she raised her heavy frame and dropped it back down in a merciless rhythm, every crushing thrust accompanied by a cry from Dennis and a low growl from Ursi. Her eyes were closed tightly, and her claws dug into his chest, not quite hard enough to injure, but enough for the burning sting to mingle with the ruthless sex in a way that confused and excited him. 
	She went harder, faster, heavier, Dennis' rigid cock impacting the limits of her organ, her textured, wet velvet walls gripping him like a Chinese finger trap. Ursi snarled, baring her sharp fangs, and Dennis felt her orgasm ripple through her body, tearing down through her loins as her vaginal muscles flexed and shuddered around him. Her relentless, milking contractions overcame him, and he felt his own climax rise to meet hers, his warm ejaculate exploding up into her, flooding her with his seed. She groaned like an animal, a guttural, primal sound, and pressed herself down on him hard enough to hurt, letting more of her weight rest on him so that his spurting, twitching member was jammed as deep as it could go. They remained locked together, each a prisoner to their shared ecstasy, riding out the waves of pleasure that crashed into them again and again. 
	Eventually, Ursi leaned down, her long, tangled hair falling into his face as she bent double in order to press her lips against his and grace him with a shivering, contended kiss. Her tongue was slow now, gentle, provoking a few residual aftershocks as they shared an exhausted, happy embrace. Dennis had never felt so satisfied before, so thoroughly...fucked. 
	She rolled off him into the pile of cushions, and Dennis joined her eagerly, wrapping an arm around her waist and rubbing below her belly as her eyes fluttered and a couple of lingering tremors teased her tired muscles.
	“Can we sleep here?” He murmured, burying his face in her furry breasts and looking up at her, his eyes hopeful. She rested her arm across his shoulder and with her free hand, tugged one of the many blankets that littered the mattress up and over them, cuddling closer to him as their trapped body heat warmed the space.
	“Consider it done.”

	The ice was beginning to thaw, causing puddles to collect between the slabs of stone that lined the streets of Elysia, icicles that had formed were dripping, and any snow that had fallen was now relegated to small patches of slush, hiding in the shadows between buildings. The secondary had almost completely passed the primary now, and the crescent of harsh, white light was almost full. The Borealans had begun to stir from their short lived hibernation, every so often Dennis would pass a groggy cat who would pause to stare at him as he made his way back towards the embassy. 
	He was a little apprehensive, he had spent the night with Ursi, and hadn't seen Xhe since their heated encounter a short while prior. Dennis hoped she wasn't still mad at him. 
	As he reached the heavy wooden door of the embassy, he pushed it open with a creak, glancing through the crack to make sure Xhe wasn't waiting on the other side, poised to pounce on him. The marble hallway was clear, and so he stepped through, closing the polished door behind him. His shoes squeaked on the smooth marble, wet with melting snow and ice, and as he made his way towards his room and his computer console, Xhe stepped out from her bedroom and into the hall. 
	Dennis stopped, wary of her. She was wearing her fleecy robe, tied around her waist with a strap, and she looked at him sleepily as she rubbed her eyes, her round ears twitching as they tracked him.
	“Ambassador...welcome back.” She lowered her head, as if she were greeting a superior.
	He hesitated, had she somehow forgotten what had happened? Did she assume it had been some kind of dream? No, that was impossible, the evidence of their exploits had been all over the room when he had crept out.
	“Hello Xhe, how are you?” He asked stiffly.
	“I am fine, did you need anything?” She sounded eager, even excited.
	Her attitude seemed different, somehow deferential. Not quite afraid of him, but the strain in her voice was gone, the almost snarky tone she used when she berated him for his incompetence or his failure to follow her instructions was now absent. He wasn't sure if he should bring up what had happened, should he apologize for it? Demand an apology from her? Was this all a natural aspect of the Borealan social hierarchy? 
	“No, thank you. I just came back to check my computer console.”
	“Oh? I could make you some smoked fish, if you'd like that. It's early, you can't have eaten yet.”
	She was so insistent, almost giddy at the prospect of feeding him, and he would feel guilty if he denied her the opportunity. 
	“V-very well.” He replied.
	She beamed, and turned away to walk towards the kitchen. When she had disappeared behind the door, Dennis continued on towards his bedroom. 
	He mounted the chair in front of the console and turned it on, hearing the cooling fans spin up as the machine booted and diagnostic data played across the glowing screens. When it had finished, a single flickering icon was displayed, a new message received. His heart caught in his chest as he selected the icon and clicked.

To:CarlisleDennisSR106478237
From:UNBorealisCommission 
Subject:RE-Borealis Mission Update
-BREAK-
Have received message. Continue dialogue with Patriarch, will contact UNN on subject of political schisms, get opinion of Admiralty.
-BREAK-
Request for asylum denied by UN, require more data on status of protected group and political situation as it relates to Elysia before decision can be made. No precedent for providing asylum for alien population on Earth.
-MESSAGE ENDS-

	Dennis leaned back in the chair, dumbstruck. His heart sank in his chest. 
	So that was it then? Request denied. All of his plans and aspirations had been dashed overnight in the form of a fucking memo. It sounded as if they were more concerned with their military alliance with Elysia than helping the Polars, and the Patriarch seemed to enjoy having the Regents under this thumb. If they were to ask his opinion, he would certainly not be in favor of letting them leave. How could he break this news to Ursi? That her people would remain trapped here, that Dennis, in whom she had placed so much confidence and trust, had failed in the only task she had given him? 
	He stared vacantly at the monitor, the whir of the fans somehow distant, as if heard at the end of a long tunnel. What use was he if he couldn't accomplish this? His delusions of greater purpose now lost, Dennis hit the back key, returning to the home screen, and moused over to the shutdown command. As he began to rise out of the chair, he noticed that the 'new message' icon was still flashing. 
	Curious, he selected it, and a second message was displayed. Who could have sent it? 

To:CarlisleDennisSR106478237
From:RusFed
Subject:AsylumReq
-BREAK-
Heard from UN that Borealan population in need of transplant. Informed that UN denied request, regrettable. 
-BREAK-
Russian Federation willing to enter negotiations with rep of asylum seekers. Suggest founding autonomous republic in Siberia. Kremlin excited at prospect, eager to set precedent. 
-BREAK-
Await your reply. 
-MESSAGE ENDS-

	Dennis ran his fingers through his hair as his eyes lingered on the message, rereading it over and over to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, his elation threatening to explode from his body in a victory cry. His previous low point all but forgotten, he leapt from his chair and fled the room, wanting to get back to Ursi's residence and tell her the good news as quickly as his feet would carry him. As he swung the heavy, wooden door to his room open, Xhe lurched back, narrowly avoiding dropping the tray of fish she was carrying. 
	“Ambassador! Where are you going?”
	He turned to wave to her as he ran down the hall towards the entrance.
	“Keep it warm Xhe, I'll be back soon!”
	He hopped over the threshold and into the street, skidding on the melting ice as he turned in the direction of Ursi's house, and jogged off into the gloom.

	Ursi opened the door to a sweating, panting Dennis, and he pushed past her, leaning on a table that supported an elaborately carved, wooden bust of some long dead Borealan historical figure that decorated her foyer. She watched him curiously as he caught his breath. 
	“Ursi...we...I....”
	“Slow down,” she chided. “Breathe, then tell me what happened.”
	Dennis took a minute to compose himself, his joints aching with the impact of running under such high gravity. He turned to her, wiping cooling sweat from his brow.
	“Ursi they accepted, a territory on Earth wants to take you in, they're willing to start negotiations immediately! They want you to found a republic in Siberia, it's perfect, hundreds of miles of uninhabited land, lakes, forests, mountains. We couldn't have asked for better!”
	She didn't react immediately, she clutched her fuzzy hands to her chest, and turned to look through the open door, up at the passing eclipse. The cool breeze ruffled her fur, and she was silhouetted against the glow, her tall frame blocking the burgeoning starlight.
	“Do you believe in fate, Dennis? An inexorable force that brings people together in order to accomplish great things?”
	“This is almost enough to make me,” he laughed. “The UN refused, I was about ready to go throw myself into the lake, but then I noticed there was a second message. One of the territories decided to take you in of their own accord. Sounds like they heard about your situation and didn't approve of the way the UN handled it.”
	Ursi turned back around to face him, tears glistening in her reflective, blue eyes as she stood in the threshold.
	“You've freed us, Dennis. You've freed me.”
	She lunged towards him, clutching him against her, burying his head in her chest. She held him for a long while, as her downy fur tickled his face and he felt one or two fat droplets fall into his hair. Ursi recovered from the brief surge of emotion, and wiped her eyes with the back of her fluffy hands, a new determination emanating from her expression and her confident posture. She was a monarch again, a leader and protector of her people, standing tall and proud as she considered the next course of action.
	“Very well, Ambassador. Let us begin these negotiations.”
	 Dennis grinned, and led her out into the street by the hand. 

	The next few days were a blur of activity. Ursi tasked Dennis with relaying her messages through the console, the negotiations with Russia were going smoothly and she seemed satisfied with the answers she received from them. Dennis had sent his resignation to the UN, stating simply that he had found new employment opportunities elsewhere. The paper pushers would have to send someone new to take his place, but that wasn't his problem anymore. It felt incredibly liberating, to be able to just leave his job without his superiors being able to do anything about it, being seventy five light years away. 
	Xhe was able to smooth things over with the Patriarch, who while initially confused and angry that his prized ambassador was cutting his stay short, soon perked up when he was told he would be getting a new one. It seemed he cared little who staffed the embassy, as long as he had his alien diplomat to parade in front of the Regents as proof of his influence and power. He was not especially happy when he heard the news that Ursi and her people were preparing to relocate to Earth, but being a small regional power with little influence, the loss of the Polar territory ultimately mattered little to him. He was assured that weapons and ships from Earth would continue to flow as long as Elysia honored its commitment to the Coalition, in other words as long as the Borealan troops kept fighting on the front.
	“The Russians have a jump capable ship a few days out,” Dennis said, turning in his seat to look at Ursi who was peering over his shoulder, unable to read the English text on the screen. “It was surveying planets in a nearby system, looking for potential colony sites. They say they'll get in contact with it and have it divert to Borealis in order to take us to Earth, so that we can continue negotiations in person. They don't have the capacity to take many of your people back, but we could take a contingent of a couple of dozen, and the supplies to feed them.”
	“Will I be able to tour the settlement site while I'm there?” Ursi asked.
	“I would guess so, yeah. They're pretty excited about this, it's never been done before. Relocating an entire alien population to Earth. There may be some medical complications associated with the lower gravity, but I wouldn't worry about that, humans have lived on Mars for generations and we have a pretty good handle on preventative treatments.” 
	“If you say it's safe, I'll trust you.” Ursi replied, placing a furry hand on his shoulder.
	Xhe hovered nearby nervously, seemingly still intimidated by Ursi's presence. 
	“Ambassador, my Regent, the Patriarch has granted you permission to use his shuttle, in order to meet the human ship in space when it arrives. We lack the facilities for planetfall.”
	“Good, thank you Xhe.” 
	She nodded and left the room, seemingly pleased. She had been chipper lately. After he had asserted himself over her, she had fully accepted his leadership and his status as her superior. Whatever mental conflicts that had so tormented her were now banished, as she fell back into what for her was a natural, and comfortable role. 
	Dennis recalled the moment he had torn down the flier that had been posted on the cork board in the company break room, what felt like an eternity ago, advertising the position of ambassador to Earth on an alien planet. How his eyes had lit up at the prospect of adventure and freedom from his boring office work. He didn't even feel like the same person now, as if those were someone else's memories he was remembering. Who among his colleagues would believe him today, if he told them that he had hunted terrifying monsters in a tangled jungle, tamed wild aliens, and romanced a beautiful Queen?  He had even obtained the position he had dreamed of, a politician who mattered to the people he advocated for. Someone who did good in the world, someone who helped people, not just a suit filing motions and trying to climb the political ladder for his own gain.  
	“It won't take me long to select the passengers and supplies I want to bring,” Ursi commented, her arms crossed over her ample chest as she looked down at Dennis. “How about you? I don't suppose you brought much?”
	He shook his head.
	“Just my clothes really, the console is UN property, I'll have to leave it here. It's a lot more expensive than it looks.”
	“I don't know if you really appreciate what you've done for me Dennis, what you've done for my people. I was right to put my hopes in you.” She leaned down, her warm breath tickling his ear as Dennis began to blush. “I'll just have to show you my gratitude in person...” She tugged his ear with her teeth, and Dennis shivered, sinking into his chair. Ursi turned to leave the room, her wide hips rolling attractively as she walked, then stopped at the door to look back over her shoulder at him.
	“Oh, and Dennis. I hope you're ready for a long, boring journey. We'll likely be confined to our quarters for much of the trip. I expect we'll have to find ways to entertain eachother.” 
	He swallowed hard as she left the room, closing the door behind her. Boring wasn't the way he would have described it. The prospect of being confined to a ship's quarters with Ursi and a dozen of her consorts set his heart fluttering in his chest. He remembered his mother's words as he had left for law school at age twenty, dragging a suitcase with a broken wheel as he waited for the bus that would take him to his campus. 
	“Thank God you're not joining the navy like your brother, Dennis. Cavorting around the Galaxy, putting yourself in danger, you're a sensible boy.”
	Nothing he had done in the last week had been sensible. He suppressed a laugh as he rose from his seat, smelling Xhe's smoked fish wafting in from the kitchen. 

THE END
	
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