A Stand Off

“You’re wasting your time Natalia.” Bellextra calls from behind her makeshift barrier of mega-servers. “Just wait for me out by the tree. I'll finish up and we’ll have a celebratory butt fuck.” It is a testament to the powerful pheromones on this planet that you seriously consider her proposal. Pro’s: Bellextra’s raw sex appeal and kinky domineering attitude. Con’s; you’ll lose your freedom and probably your identity. This is a tough one. Or, you could take her down and turn her cock into a parking spot for your cooch. You huddle behind a chunk of wall that was reorganized by the landing, nibbling your lip, as your mind is temporarily overwhelmed by powerful, primal desires to feel that magnificent shaft fill your holes.

No, no, no. That’s the pheromones thinking. Arousal tickles down your hungry pussy, making you long to feel Bellextra's cum dripping from every hole in your body. You hope it's just the pheromones. Surely it’s the pheromones.

You shake your head. “How long do you plan on staying there Bellextra? You can’t stay hunkered down forever.”

“I got all the time in the world.” She replies.

“Oh yeah, you got an exit there?” More blaster bolts.

The tactical side of your brain kicks into high gear. So, there is no exit, which is good because she can’t get away. Bad because she can currently keep you from getting in almost indefinitely. She’s holed up in the computer core. The bitch is stuck. There is no way for her to advance without her losing the advantage. If only you had some way to hit her without going stepping into her field of fire.

So why is Bellextra in there? She’s not that stupid. The payoff would have to be phenomenal for her to justify getting trapped. You sift through your last piece of clothing, your bandoleer,while you mull it over.

Once again there is silence in the derelict halls. With your back against the bulkhead, you can hear her breaths. She can’t be more than twenty feet away, her heart racing against yours. There is a subtle whir as her power gauntlet shifts, no doubt covering the threshold of the door, waiting just for you. Her thoughts shout over the whispers of her body. You can hear the gears in her head turning. Driving her towards her goal. Your goal.

How convenient; the Oo’lick never took your homing darts. Once you find the right tool, your course is set. Generally you want to throw them towards the enemy in a controlled fashion, much like the bar darts they take their name from. Instead you toss the homing darts around the door without looking. You don’t need line of sight to see what happens next. The three projectiles, little more than miniature rockets, flash into life and seek a target. Bellextra, the sexy bitch she is, manages to blast one out of the air. There is a fizz, a crack, a klang, and a thth. Your brain decodes the sounds and you make your move.

The fizz; the sound the micro-rockets make as they fly in concentric arcs. The crack; Bellextra fires off her blaster, either at you or at a dart. The klang; one of the darts hit something metal, probably Bellextra’s power gauntlet, or her impromptu barricade. The thth; the sound a homing dart makes when it connects with its target and delivers an over powered dose of aphrodisiac, paralytic, and psychedelic compound to the patient.

Before Bellextra can finish her curse you are through the door gun blazing. Sure enough you hit her right in the boob. The rocket propelled syringe makes a good distraction and she can barely get her gun up before you hit her with a stun bolt. She drops like a sack of potatoes behind her barricade.

There is no separation between your movements as you switch from firing to charging. Toned arms smoothly drop from a firing stance to the pumping motions of a sprinter. Three steps gets you to the barricade. Your long legs carry you forward and upward as you hurdle over the upturned table. Midair you draw your last set of cuffs, ready to lock onto your new prisoner.

It’s all ruined as Bellextra stiff arms you mid pounce.

“Wha’ di’ you do to me?” she slurs as you land in a heap on top of her. She managed to get her gauntlet up in time but she doesn’t seem to know what to do with it. Clumsily the armored fist tries to grasp you but you are easily able to slip out.

What did you do to her? Credit where credit is due, the **** were Melodia’s idea. Turns out she picked up a few “souvenirs” from the gang-bangers who were partying at Swingers that night. You confiscated the ****, naturally. You are Melodia’s domina after all; you’re responsible for her safety. And her discipline. You gave her the ****-are-bad speech in the dungeon, making liberal use of teaching aids (whips, paddles, canes, etc. ). To really emphasize how terrible **** were, you injected her with some before her punishment began, making her extra sensitive to your teasing and tormenting. She mentioned the **** offhandedly when you were preparing the hypo darts. After torturing her again (because why not?) you decided to add them to your traditional paralytic and aphrodisiac compound and voila! If you can’t make her pass out, make her trip out.

It seems to be working. Her free arm flails about trying to find her gun but she can’t seem to close her hand. Ever the problem solver, Bellextra solution is to simply backhand you. You roll out of the way as the metal shod fist dents the bulkhead previously beneath you. Before the **** up warrior can pull her fist away, you’ve embeded your combat knife between the joints in the arm of the gauntley and leverage it as hard as you can. There is a satisfying pop as fasteners snap from the lateral pressure.

“YEEEARRRRAAAAGGHHHHHHHH!!!!” Somehow Bellextra is already up with a fist ready to strike. You scoot your bare butt across the floor just in time to avoid her blow which lands right where your precious pelvis was. A quick roll and flip carries you away from her giving you time to plan. The arm that’s your target. The chromed plating shines in the dim blue light, covering her entire left arm. Wide eyed and unblinking she pants deep quick breaths, crouched in a wrestlers pose and you can’t help but think of her shaft as another grappler to combat. All too late you realize that it’s not always a good idea to fight someone on ****.

The doped up titan charges and its all you can do to duck under her arms. You snap behind you with the whip as she passes and pull up. No doubt she barely feels the whip bite into her ankle, but she sure does feel it when she face plants in the deck. She might as well be made of rubber for how fast she bounces back and like a boomerang comes right back at you.

Dropping the whip you leap into the attack, scissoring your legs around her free arm and locking them behind her head. Putting all your weight into it you pull with your calves. Once again Bellextra falls to the ground this time taking you with her. Somewhere along the way down, you hit your head, and things slow down.

For a moment you’re not sure where the dull pain in the back of your head comes from, but then you realize Bellextra slammed your head against something. Seems to be her barricade; A former workbench if your not mistaken. You look at Bellextra. She’s about 5 seconds away from breaking your hold and tearing you a new asshole.

It’s probably the concussion, but you don’t really focus on your rival. Instead, you take in the room. You didn’t really look around with the whole storm the entrenched enemy plan. Spliced conduit and open bulkheads are the results of Bellextra’s efforts to coax power back into this room. Rows and rows of server towers have been cannibalized. A collection of spliced wires all feed into a single datapad. So she’s downloading the data files? Smart. Why search the whole ship when she could just make the ship tell her where the cool stuff is?

It seems to take an hour but Bellextra’s other hand, the one with mechanical augmentation, finally closes around your toned leg. Even with an addled noggin you feel the pressure as she grips and pulls you off her. Next thing you know, she’s pinned you and your looking up into eyes filled with hate, lust, and so many ****. She barely winces as you pull out a taser and shock her gut. Repeated blasts only make her look increasingly manic. Her teeth clench and drool drips from barred gums.

“I’m going to-”

You never hear what Bellextra’s plans are. Shes cut off mid-sentence as a continuous beam of energy slices through the room, annihilating what's left of the equipment. Out of the corner of your eye you see the datapad, somehow intact, go flying across the room.

“Hello ladies. I see you started without me.” Captain Mal’s enormous form blocks the whole doorway.

He doesn’t wait for a response and to both of your credit, you and Bellextra don’t offer one. Easily throwing the barricade at the armored golem gives Bellextra the cover she needs to charge him, your blaster providing her with additional distractions. It's just enough for Bellextra to knock the metal mountain back into the hall.

Mal is undeterred. “I have wasted so much time on this damned world.” He lands a blow that knocks her back for just a moment before the red rager counters with a flurry, driving him deeper down into the hallway. You sprint out after him, supporting Bellextra as best you can. “Months traveling here. More waiting for someone else to show up and tell me where to go. I scrambled just about every **** I had out of boredom.” He’s blocking Bellextra's blows but giving ground.

“Drop Bellextra!” To your relief she does so. You really didn’t want to hit her with the disruptor shots. Glowing pinpricks of molten armor mark your bullseyes but they have no effect other than to ding the already scoured plating. For extra support, you toss one of your two EMP grenades at him. It does about what you expect which is fuck all. Most militarized hardware is built to resist EMP. It needs to be delivered up close, preferably through an exposed chink in the armor.

The heavy cannon arm cycles up again and you barely jump back into the server room. The spot you just vacated suddenly becomes occupied by a few terra-joules of heat and energy.

While Mal is focused on you, Bellextra senses an opportunity to rip off another arm and delivers a fierce uppercut. Or at least tries to. Somewhere in that exchange, Mal damaged her power gauntlet, no doubt exploiting the vulnerability you created earlier. Sparks fly as she lunges. Even with Bellextra moving at her prodigious speed, you can see that she can’t fully extend the arm. Mal easily steps back and slams her into the wall.

Like a professional, Mal continues his monologue as if he was never interrupted. “Finally you two show up, and what happens? You destroyed half my ship.” Bellextra futily grips at his armor. To her credit, she manages to peal back an armor plate, but Mal ends her efforts with a body shot that drops her to the floor. “Destroyed my prized scrambler. That was one of a kind.” He walks away from the coughing alien. Walks straight towards you, cannon revving up.

“Then I finally land here and you stinking sluts took me right here. I finally get to land on this stinking shithole of a world. I should be happy, but no.” You pepper him with shots. It’s little more than defiance at this point. Your blaster just doesn’t have the kick to punch through his armor. That’s okay. Bellextra is getting up behind him…

“I brought 50 men and woman down here. Sadists all. If I get back with 5 of them I’ll be shocked. Monsters, savages-everything! And for what?” You’ve done your bit. Bellextra is bull rushing down the hall. It’s a shame Mal seems to have eyes in the back of his head. As if choreographed, he spins and pins her against the wall. “I’ve searched this entire ship. There’s nothing here.” Bellextra scrambles against the armored goliath as you watch on helplessly. “This whole damned adventure was a waste of my time.” He holds the cannon against Bellextra’s head. “I want to **** you both. Make it slow and painful. But what I need is to finish this.” There is the electric whine of energy being charged.

It’s a hail mary, but it’s all you have left. “Bellextra, catch! Hit him with it”

You will never know if Bellextra knew what your plan was. Did she know you were sacrificing her? Did she see the writing on the wall? Was she just hopped up on alien psychedelics? Maybe she just wanted Mal to lose. She did look you in the eyes as she caught the grenade. That gods damned beautiful face that expressed so fucking much without ever emoting. You hoped she found you just as beautiful as she slammed the grenade into the chink in Mals armor.