"Damn! What do I do now?"
The young woman pondered her next course of action as she lay prone in the Norwegian snow. Rifle bullets sporadically whizzed by overhead, she sharp cracks of the weapons coming from the steep mountain slope to herleft. More snow fell steadily from the sky. She did not mind the cold, even though she was only wearing a dress. The dress was much too short for the fashion of the times even for summer, let alone for the Scandinavian winter and the snow. It was night, or the bright red color of her dress would have made her stand out in the white snow. But then, the darkness made no difference to her keen eyesight. And as it was, the flashes of the natural kind of lightning occasionally lit the night sky above her. The golden lightning bolt on the front of her dress indicated that her specialty was communications.
For the past six months, her communications section had been attached to the German Army for the invasion and subsequent occupation of Norway. In that time, other sections had accompanied the Germans as the blitzkrieg, born of innovative Arion tactics, overran the Low Countries and France. England had barely survived the Luftwaffe's aerial onslaught that summer, and even now, London and the other major cities were getting bombarded almost every night.
From the German broadcasts, there hardly were two bricks remaining standing on one another in all of London. The English and neutral broadcasts told a somewhat different story, though. Not that anybody said that England was actually winning the war, but they hadn't completely lost it just yet.
Her section, Marlen and four Betas, had accompanied a German division almost all the way to the Arctic Circle before coming back south. They had helped to maintain vital communications links, both with Berlin and with the Arion command ship, undetectable in orbit to these primitive natives.
They had worked closely with the Germans, aiding communications between their widely scattered and rapidly advancing units. Until today, at any rate.
Today, for some reason, the Germans had turned on them.
The first sign she'd received that anything was wrong had been when an armed squad showed up at her quarters, demanding that she turn all of her equipment over to them. By the time she had gotten to the station, the two men on duty had been killed and much of the equipment had already been loaded onto a lorry.
She had been able to destroy the lorry and its contents, to prevent the equipment from falling into German hands, before she found Chirren and Tyree. They had been captured together, as they had been doing what they usually were doing when they were together and off duty. She had gotten the two of them out of a locked room by the simple expedience of knocking down the back wall. She had then led them away from the station, to prevent them from being killed as the other two had been. They'd been able to bring along only a small fraction of their personal belongings, not much more than the clothes now on their backs.
But now, they had been spotted. The only thing between her Betas and the rifle bullets was the darkness and the snow. And maybe one other thing.
"Damn! I'm a communications specialist, not a combat soldier."
She knew that while she couldn't be hurt by the primitive native weapons, the same could not be said for the people she was with. Those primitive weapons had already killed the other two members of her section. She knew that she had to act, if she was to save the remaining two members of her section.
She also knew that some Primes, maybe most of them, wouldn't care about the lives of mere Betas. There always were more of them.
But she didn't think of them that way. They were fellow Arions. They were people. They were her people. They had served her well, they looked to her for leadership and safety, and she owed it to them to provide it.
The problem was how to provide it.
They couldn't go back. She'd seen what happened to the other two men in her section. They couldn't go to the sides, the dark waters of a fjord on their left and the steep mountainside on their right hemmed them in. Neither would present much of an obstacle for her, but they were formidable obstacles for the two Betas.
If they could just make it to the trees at the base of the mountain, they could find cover there. But the problem was in getting there. The Germans had a clear field of fire in that direction. Again, that wasn't a problem for her, but it certainly was for the other two.
If there was only one Beta, she could probably run and carry him to safety, shielding him with her body. But there was no way she could shield two of them.
"Damn, what do I do now?" she asked herself again. Then, she asked herself a more useful question. "What would Grandfather do in this situation?"
Her grandfather had spent a lot of time taking care of her, after he had been invalided out of the military. She had fond memories of growing up on Aria, sitting on his knee as he told her stories. Stories of exotic planets and their even more exotic natives. He had been a battalion commander in the Marines.
Though she hadn't really listened to his war stories, she remembered what the wars had done to him. It hadn't been easy to ignore the wars, when she had sat on his only knee. He had been one of the lucky ones, most of the other men in that battalion headquarters, including the father she had never known, had lost a lot more than just their limbs when they had been attacked. Attacked by a single Velorian Planetary Protector.
Her thoughts were brought back to the here and now by a sharp intake of breath coming from her right. Looking that way, she saw Tyree, holding his hands to his stomach. Even in the dark, she could see the dark red blood seeping out, covering his hands.
There was only one thing she could do, if her people were to get out safely. She had to attack the soldiers herself, draw their fire to herself. If necessary, she would kill the soldiers to ensure the safety of her people. Her hesitation had already gotten Tyree wounded. She had to act now, before he was hit again, and before Chirren got hit. She quickly told Chirren of her intentions.
Marlen might not have been trained as a combat soldier, but she had been born an Arion Prime. And all Primes received a lot of combat training, even if they chose to follow other career paths as she had done. Enough combat training to make them into fearsome warriors, perhaps the second-best warriors in the universe.
"At least, there's no Velorians around," she thought to herself as she got ready to get up to her feet. Facing the native Terran soldiers was one thing, facing a Velorian Planetary Protector was something else entirely. She had heard plenty of stories from her grandfather about that. As if his missing leg wasn't enough of a reminder.
But then, she hadn't heard any reports of Velorians on this planet. If anybody had encountered a Velorian, she was sure that she would have heard about it. That wasn't the kind of news that would be kept quiet.
Corporal Joachim Schultz was in the snowstorm with the rest of his platoon. He didn't understand what all of the fuss was about, but then, as a mere corporal his job wasn't to understand, it was merely to follow orders. Though why it took an entire infantry company to arrest five people, three men and two women, he couldn't understand.
He had been told that those five people, who manned a communications station, were actually traitors, dangerous enemies of the Reich. He didn't really understand that, either. From what little contact he had had with them, they had seemed to be loyal. Nice people, though they tended to be a bit aloof and standoffish. Some of the other men had tried to make some time with the two women, but none of them had scored.
Sure, he had heard the other rumors. That these people were actually aliens, with incredible strength. That they were almost impossible to kill. That bullets just bounced off of their skin, even grenades and cannon shells couldn't hurt them.
If these people truly were so tough, then just what were they expecting his squad to do, armed only with their rifles?
Personally, he didn't put too much stock in those rumors. After all, he had been with his platoon leader, Lieutenant Schiller, when they had confronted two of the traitors. When they had resisted, Lieutenant Schiller had given the order to open fire. The two men had fallen when hit with the rifle bullets. Fallen, and died. Like anybody else. Like anybody else who dared to oppose the Fatherland. Like anybody else with rifle slugs in them.
Suddenly, lightning lit up the night sky. In the flash, he saw one of the traitors. The one that he had been told was their leader, even though she appeared to be the youngest of the five.
Even in the snowstorm, she was dressed as he'd always seen her, in a short red dress with gold trim, with a golden lightning bold on the front. She had her white cape around her shoulders. The other four had always dressed in skintight black uniforms.
He had never seen her this close before. She didn't look like a dangerous enemy agent. Instead, she looked like a young girl, about his age. And beautiful.
He'd known before that she was an attractive girl. But he didn't know that she was this beautiful, with a great figure, which her dress did nothing to conceal. And with long shapely legs, beneath that scandalously short skirt, seemingly unbothered by the blowing snow.
But, beautiful young girl or not, he had his orders. He raised his rifle to his shoulder. Then, he hesitated.
Before he could shoot, somebody rushed at her from his right. He recognized Private Dietrich Jürgens, as he sprang at her, trying to get his arms around her.
The girl reacted instantly, as she reached with a hand and got it around Dietrich's throat.
Dietrich was not a small man, over 180 centimeters and 100 kilograms, yet Joachim saw the girl lift Dietrich up off of his feet, holding him with just one hand around his throat. Dietrich put his hands on the girl's arm, trying to free himself. She just shook him, like a terrier shaking a rat.
Then he heard a sickening CRUNCH, as Dietrich's head lolled to the side. He immediately knew that Dietrich's neck had been broken, even before she tossed the limp body aside to land in a cloud of snow.
He aimed his rifle at the girl's face. But he could not bring himself to pull the trigger. He had never shot at a woman before, and he didn't want to start now. He heard his squad leader's voice, giving the order to fire. Still, he could not pull the trigger. He wanted to throw himself at her feet. He wanted to take her in his arms. He wanted her to take him in her arms. But he heard the crack of rifles as at least some of the others could, and did, pull their triggers.
He continued to look at the girl through the sights of his rifle, expecting to see her fall. But amazingly, she continued to stand where she was. He could see the rifle bullets hitting her, making her large breasts bounce. Yet, other than that, they seemed to have no effect on her. Maybe there was some truth after all to those rumors about bullets not having any effect on these aliens.
As he continued to look through his sights, he saw her eyes momentarily flash purple. He heard a scream from his left, then it was cut off abruptly. Taking his eyes off of her, he looked in that direction. Where only moments before was one of his comrades, there now was only a small pile of something, smoldering. Then he recognized parts of the Wehrmacht uniform. And parts of the soldier who had been wearing it.
As he looked back at the girl, he saw her eyes flash again, and again. Each time they flashed, there was another short scream. As the screams died away, so did the gunfire.
Soon, there was no more gunfire. Nor was there any more screaming. Looking around, he could see none of his comrades, just a few thin columns of smoke rapidly dissipating in the wind.
He was unaware of the fact that he had just emptied his bladder.
When he looked back at the girl, he saw her looking directly at him. But not in the sights of his rifle, he barely realized that he had dropped it. Gott in Himmel, she was beautiful! She had just killed everyone else in his squad, but she was still beautiful.
As she continued to look at him, he prepared for his death. Another flash of lightning lit up the sky. She didn't seem to be uncomfortable in the slightest, standing in a snowstorm dressed only in that short and thin dress. His eyes widened in amazement as she put her arms in front of her, her hands moving across her chest. He would have sworn that she was caressing her breasts.
Those beautiful breasts, that he wouldn't mind caressing under different circumstances.
Marlen looked at the young man directly in front of her, the only man left of those who had attacked her. He alone of this group of men had not fired his weapon on her. She damped the surge of energy flowing to her eyes. If he wouldn't attack her, then she wouldn't attack him.
She saw him drop his weapon onto the snow. She noticed that the front of his pants was wet, the dark feldgrau even darker. But not wet from the snow. She remembered hearing stories from some female Warriors Prime about the two typical types of male Terran reactions to seeing them in action, both of which resulted in wet spots on the front of their pants. This was obviously the second type of reaction --- she could detect the bitter ammonia odor of urine.
She reached up and felt her breasts. Her breasts, which served almost like batteries, were noticeably smaller, from the energy she had used to power her heat vision.
Still, they weren't that much smaller, there was plenty of energy left in them, and she didn't feel weakened at all. She had expected to use more energy to kill ten enemy soldiers. Satisfied, she turned and walked away, to find Chirren and Tyree.
"I wonder if Grandfather would have approved," she thought to herself as she walked. "No, he probably would have killed that last man, too."
A few minutes later, the second platoon found Corporal Schultz kneeling in the snow, his head buried in his hands, his rifle forgotten at his feet. A few meters away, they found Private Jürgens' body, his neck snapped. They did not find any of the other members of his squad. When questioned, Schultz would not say a word.
Chirren was carrying Tyree in her arms as she walked through the knee-deep snow under the trees when Marlen caught up to them. "Here, let me take him," Marlen said, reaching for Tyree.
Chirren hesitated. On the one hand, anything a Prime said to a Beta had the force of a command, even if it wasn't phrased as a command. That always applied, even if Marlen hadn't been her immediate superior. On the other hand, Marlen was a woman, reaching for Chirren's lover. And Marlen and Tyree had been lovers, at one time, and for longer than he had been her lover.
But right now, Tyree was in no condition to be anyone's lover. And, while Tyree's weight wasn't slowing her down much, he wouldn't slow Marlen down at all. Never mind that Primes normally didn't care one whit whether Betas lived or died, she had seen that Marlen wasn't like any other Prime she had ever served with, Marlen actually seemed to care for her people.
Chirren handed her lover over to Marlen, as Marlen took off her cape and wrapped it around Tyree's body, for what little additional warmth it would provide. A Prime's clothing, unlike a Beta's, wasn't exactly designed for warmth, since a Prime didn't need anything to keep them warm at anything more than a few degrees above absolute zero.
They resumed the trek through the snow, Marlen leading the way, her vision unimpaired by the dark, and keeping her pace down so that Chirren could keep up with her.
Marlen was thinking about what she had just done. Despite being a seasoned veteran, she was a rarity among Arion Primes, having chosen a technical specialty instead of combat or command. She had never killed any sentient beings before. Until tonight.
It really disturbed her. Not the killings, necessarily, it had been to protect her people. And she was an Arion Prime, after all. But the ease with which she had done it was the big surprise.
It had been so easy. Too easy. A simple snap of a neck, some blasts of heat vision from her eyes. Too easy, no challenge at all. Even though they had been shooting at her with their primitive projectile weapons.
And not only had it been too easy, but it also had been almost enjoyable. No, it actually had been enjoyable. She had enjoyed demonstrating her superiority over these mere Terrans. Alone and barehanded, she had been more than a match for ten trained and armed soldiers.
She had also enjoyed the warm tingling sensations their weapons had given her as the primitive projectiles bounced off of her soft breasts. It had been a long time since she had felt anything like that. Almost like having another Prime's hands on her breasts. "How long has it been since I've felt a Prime's hands?" she wondered. "Other than my own, of course."
"Where are we going?" Chirren asked, interrupting her thoughts.
Marlen really hadn't thought about where they were going, all she knew was that they were going away from the Germans. If they were no longer welcome among the Germans, then they probably couldn't hide among the Norwegians. So where could they go? Over the mountains to neutral Sweden? Or somehow, to the other side, to England? She had monitored enough broadcasts to know that the English welcomed any and all allies from the occupied territories in their desperate struggle against the Germans. But would they accept her and Chirren?
"We can't go back to the Germans," Marlen replied. "We'll try to contact the Norwegian underground, and put ourselves into their hands. And get medical attention for Tyree."
Marlen looked around herself again. There wasn't much to see in the cell. Cement walls, with old fading whitewash. Two bunks on the side walls. A sink and a toilet on the back. A bare bulb in a wire cage above the sink and one in the hallway provided the only light.
And the smell! The whole place smelled of fish. From what she had seen as they were led down here, the place apparently had been some sort of fish processing plant, though it obviously hadn't been in operation recently. "Probably not since the Germans took over," she thought.
Again, she wondered why a fish processing plant had a barred cell. "They didn't build this just for us," she mused, "so what was it used for?" She decided that she wasn't going to answer that question on her own, so she put it aside.
Tyree was lying on one of the bunks, with Chirren leaning over him. She had a wet cloth in her hand, as she held it to his forehead.
Marlen really couldn't blame the underground for being cautious and putting them into the cell. What would she do, if three people who had recently been with an enemy who had overrun her home showed up?
Sure, she could easily bend the steel bars and escape. But what good would that do? That would just leave them stranded in Norway, fleeing from both the native Norwegians and the occupying Germans. At least this way, the Norwegians weren't trying to kill Chirren and Tyree. That was the main reason she had allowed them to be placed in this holding cell.
At least they had called a doctor for Tyree. But the doctor had taken one look at Tyree's wounds and stated that there was nothing he could do. He didn't think that Tyree would last the night.
And they had fed them. Mostly fish, but it had sufficed to fill Chirren's belly. And hers. She had been able to replenish the energy she had expended to power her heat vision. Tyree's wounds made it almost impossible for him to eat anything.
And in addition, there had been that tall English naval officer who had come to see them earlier. He had listened to her story, and promised to contact his superiors on their behalf. She was glad that the Arion hypno-teacher had given her a fair command of not only the German and Norwegian languages, but also of English and French, to aid in monitoring their radio communications. "One world, but so many languages," she thought every time she had to keep the languages apart in her mind.
"And that Englishman was handsome," she thought to herself. Then she rebuked herself for thought. "This isn't the time or place to be thinking about that."
She looked at Tyree again. "Damn, if we could only get him to an Arion doctor," Marlen thought to herself. "These Terran doctors are no more than crude butchers."
"How is he doing?" Marlen asked, for at least the tenth time that day.
"His fever's getting worse," Chirren replied. "I wish we had one of our own doctors," she continued, echoing Marlen's earlier thoughts.
Marlen leaned back on her bunk and observed the young girl taking care of the young man. She could understand the concern Chirren was showing for her colleague. She felt it just as much. And not just because he had been assigned to her.
Norway was the first time Chirren had been assigned to her. She had known Tyree longer.
Quite a bit longer.
And in a way that was not generally approved of.
Leaning back against the wall, she closed her eyes and remembered back to the first time Tyree had been assigned to her section. Grandfather would not have approved of her actions, if he had known. He had been disappointed enough as it was when she had chosen not to follow in her father's and grandfather's footsteps to go into the Infantry, instead choosing a technical track. A track that most Primes disdained, leaving it for the Betas.
Marlen was in charge of a small communications station, isolated in a remote mountain area. As with her last assignment, in Norway, she'd had four people with her. Except that they were all men. But, as in Norway, they all were Betas.
It was a lonely assignment, without another Prime around for miles.
As day followed day and week followed week, she could see that the Betas felt something similar, as she was the only humanoid female around.
Four male Arions alone with one female Arion. Four male Betas alone with one female Prime.
The Betas were trying to hide their feelings. They made no overt overtures. A Beta just did not proposition a Prime. Not unless the Beta was trying to commit suicide.
At least male Betas did not proposition female Primes. Some female Betas would present themselves to a male Prime, but usually that only forestalled a rape. That certainly did not apply in this situation.
Not exactly.
Finally one day, her frustrations got the better of her. She ordered youngest one of the Betas to attend her that night. He was a little shy and hesitant at first, but her pheromones quickly took care of that, making him as eager as any other partner she'd ever had. She had been prepared to be disappointed with a weak and soft Beta for a partner. And indeed she was disappointed. But not nearly as much as she had expected to be. She actually found his feathery light caresses quite enjoyable, so different from the touch of another Prime. And she remembered to be very gentle with his fragile Beta body.
He almost satisfied her that night.
The next three nights, she tasted the other three men.
She did not spend another night alone the remainder of their assignment, as she learned how to let the Betas satisfy her. Sometimes, she would have two of them at once. Occasionally, even three of them, leaving just one on duty.
Three at once had been quite interesting. With one between her legs and one at each breast, the men had been able to go almost continuously, the time at her breasts allowing them to recover and reload for another stint between her legs.
She felt a twinge of sadness when their tour of duty ended. But not as much as the four men did.
Afterwards, she had gone back to being with other Primes. It was different, being with men in her own strength class. But sort of disappointing, in a way. Physically, they were so much more capable than the mere Betas had been. But they weren't as interested in her pleasure as the Betas had been. The Betas had been much more enthusiastic in their efforts to please her, almost as if their lives depended on it.
And in a way, their lives did depend on it. One false move, and a Beta in her arms or between her legs could have been completely crushed. All of the Betas made sure that she was pleased with their performances. Especially that first shy hesitant young man.
That shy hesitant young man was named Tyree. He was the only one of that original group who was still with her.
Since then, she had tasted all of the men who served under her. In Norway, she had tasted all three of the men. But she had tasted Tyree only once in Norway, since he and Chirren had quickly paired up. She cared enough for the first woman to serve under her command to let her have one of the men, keeping the other two men for herself.
In a way, it saddened her a little that Chirren had chosen Tyree. He was the most experienced of the three men. But she certainly couldn't fault Chirren for her choice.
Further reminiscences were cut off when one of the guards came back, squatting next to Chirren, on the other side of the bars. With distaste, Marlen saw that it was the one who had been harassing both of the females, especially Chirren, almost from the moment they had arrived.
He spoke to Chirren, ignoring Marlen. "You heard what the doctor said. He's going to be dead before the night's over. Why don't you just leave him now and come spend some time with a real man?"
"That's enough!" Marlen stood up and glared at him. "Leave her alone!" At least she had remembered to switch to Norwegian, she and Chirren had been using Arion for all of their personal talking.
He turned his head to sneer at her. "Oh, what are you going to do about it, girlie?" The taunting was clear in his voice, even as his hand came through the bars to try to take one of Chirren's.
Glaring at him, Marlen walked up to the bars at the front of the cell. One way or another, she would make him leave Chirren alone.
When the girl walked up to face him across the bars, he immediately stood up and pulled a revolver out of his pocket, aiming it at her. "Stay back, girlie. You don't want to make me use this."
"If you want to live through the night, you had better not use it."
She dared to threaten him? "Are you crazy, girlie? I give the orders around here, not you."
"Is that so? We'll soon see about that." She took hold of the two bars at the center, looking as if she was testing their strength.
He took a few steps back away from the bars, keeping his revolver aimed at her chest. "Get away from those bars! Sit down!" Then, he felt a little foolish. What was the girl going to do, bend the bars or something?
She didn't back away from the bars. Instead, keeping her hands on the bars, she began pulling them outwards. With a squeal, the bars began to bend as if they were only made of soft taffy.
Shit! She was bending those steel bars with her bare hands! What kind of girl was she?
When her hands met the next set of bars, she continued pulling. Those bars bent as well. When the opening was wide enough for her, she stepped through. She stopped and faced him, putting her hands on her hips.
Aiming for the heart, he fired. At first, he thought that he had missed her at point-blank range. Then he noticed that her left breast was bouncing a little.
A bulletproof dress? Who ever heard of such a thing? The Nazis hadn't figured out how to make their soldiers' uniforms bulletproof, why would they bother with a girl's dress?
He fired again, aiming for the naked flesh of her right breast, just above the top of her dress. This time, he saw the breast bounce with the impact. But that was all, when the bullet should have gone right through her.
"Is that the best you can do?" she asked, with an evil looking grin on her face.
He raised his aim and shot her in the face. He saw her head snap back about an inch.
Then, the face snapped back to its previous position, the grin still in place. "C'mon, you can do better than that, can't you?"
He squeezed the trigger again, hitting her in the face again. Instead of killing her instantly, or at least knocking her down, she merely walked towards him. He backed away from her, until his back came up against the wall. Then she reached towards him, her hand closing about his revolver. He tried to hold on to it, but with a flick of her wrist she twisted it out of his hand.
Marlen had felt the warm tingling sensations again as the man shot at her and the metal projectiles had struck her breast. The one that hit her face hadn't felt as good, even though it hadn't actually injured her at all. Now she felt the warm steel in her hand as she twisted the primitive weapon out of the man's grasp. Closing her hand, she felt the metal deforming. As she continued squeezing, the remaining bullets exploded in her hand. Pieces of the gun flew out of her hand, one of which hit the man in the face, knocking him back against the wall. His head hit the wall, and he started slumping down towards the floor, dazed but not quite unconscious.
Tossing away the twisted remains of the weapon over her shoulder, she stepped forward and reached for him again as he was sliding down the wall. This time, her right hand closed about his throat. She lifted him up off of his feet. She pinned him against the wall by his throat. She cut off his scream by squeezing her hand a little tighter, depriving him of air.
He clutched her arm with both of his hands, trying to break her hold on his throat. He kicked at her with his feet. She could barely feel his feeble efforts. She could see the pain in his face, pain that had nothing to do with the large bruise and burn from the hot fragment of the exploding gun that covered half of his face.
She put her left hand on her hip as she looked up at the big man dangling from her right hand. She was pleased to discover that it took no effort at all to hold his weight, her slender arm not even flexed. "Oh, yes. You are a real man, aren't you?" She smirked at him as she taunted him with his own words, shaking him slowly for emphasis.
His reply came out as a gurgle rather than intelligible words, as she continued holding him by his throat, barely letting him get enough air to breathe. Both of his hands were on her arm, but it made absolutely no difference to her.
"Stop right there! Put him down!"
She turned her head at the sound of the new voice. She saw that another man had come down the corridor towards her, aiming a much bigger weapon at her, a two-handed weapon, a weapon similar to the ones those German soldiers had used. This weapon might be bigger than the one the first man had, but she didn't think that it would have any more effect on her than the weapons the Germans had used on her. All they had done was to give her those warm tingling feelings when they hit her breasts.
She turned around to face him, still holding the first man like a rag doll in her right hand.
"Put him down!" he repeated, aiming his weapon right at her chest.
"Why should I? He attacked me."
"Put him down!" he repeated again, waving his weapon around in what she assumed was supposed to be a threatening manner.
"Very well, if you insist." She smiled at him. "But he won't attack me again." She shook the man in her hand, like a terrier shaking a rat, and heard the satisfying SNAP as his neck broke. Then she tossed the body away, against the wall. She smirked at the man with the weapon. "There, I put him down. Satisfied?"
She put her right hand back on her hip as she stood and faced him. She could see the amazement in his eyes. Or was it fear? Not that she cared much one way or the other.
She took a step towards him.
It must have been fear. He took a cautious step back. "Hold it right there!" He snarled at her.
She smiled and took another step forward.
He fired his weapon at her. She was almost beginning to think that these primitive weapons were designed to injure their intended targets by deafening them. The small solid metal projectiles they launched certainly weren't hurting her at all.
But that was a ludicrous thought. The noise was worse for the user, being closer to the source. And she knew that these fragile Terrans could be hurt and killed by these weapons, primitive as they were. She had seen enough of that in Norway.
And these weapons had already killed two of her Betas, and seriously injured a third.
Keeping her hands on her hips, she watched as the expanding gases from the crude chemical explosion launched the small solid projectile at her. It hit her left breast, just above the top of her uniform. It flattened as it decelerated, dimpling in her soft flesh until it reached the harder muscles underneath. Having run out of energy, her firm flesh popped it out to hit against the wall beside her.
Again, she felt the warm tingling sensations spreading over the front of her body as the projectiles repeatedly hit her. She continued walking towards him.
He retreated from her, even as he continued firing at her. Then he could retreat no further, as his back went up against the wall. She continued walking towards him.
As she got closer, she reached up with her right hand and pulled down the top of her uniform, exposing her left breast. As he stared in amazement, she walked right up to him. Her left hand guided the end of the weapon to her breast. She didn't really know why she had instinctively done that, but was immediately rewarded with a wildly erotic sensation as the smoking hot rifle barrel slid over her tingling nipple. Holding her breath while concentrating on her expanding nipple, willing it to get even harder, she felt her nipple engorging further as it tightly squeezed the inside of the barrel.
The sudden engorgement of this super girl's nipple put enough upward force on the gun that it was almost torn from his hand. Gripping the rifle tighter, he tried to pull it back with all his strength, but was stunned when he realized that her nipple was actually stuck in the large barrel of his hunting rifle. Roughly jamming the rifle against her chest as hard and as fast as he could, he twisted it from side to side, trying to free it from her chest.
Yet on each powerful shove, he felt her large breast dimpling inward far enough to bury the end of the barrel of the gun. In fact, when he leaned his whole weight against the gun while pushing it and twisting it as hard as he could, her eyes got a little misty, looking almost as if she was getting turned on.
His body instantly responded in a similar way, his already tight pants suddenly getting even tighter. Yet he was too shocked and angry to dwell on such pleasures as he tried to violently twist and pull the gun free again, the girl's big nipple staying infuriatingly wedged in the barrel.
Staring down at the gun and the straining muscles that were so apparent on the man's arms, Marlen could not believe how good the rough twisting forces felt against her nipple. She especially liked the sensation of the sharp rifling inside the barrel as it grabbed and twisted her. Enjoying the sensation of the man using all his strength in an effort to free the gun, she smiled softly at him while holding herself perfectly still, her hands on her hips again. As she flexed her chest muscles, she found that she could almost lift the man off the ground with just the rise of her breasts.
Finding that she was really starting to get off on this feeling of absolute power, she suddenly wanted the man to do impossible things to her body, enjoying each new 'assault' that he inflicted on her. The more he tried to injure her, the more she shrugged off the blows, the stronger, and the more confident she felt. Breathing excitedly, she began envisioning herself as some kind of ancient goddess as she stood proudly before this weak pitiful man.
The man's face was now a mask of anger, pain and embarrassment now as he tried to get his gun back. "How could a girl's fucking nipple get stuck in my rifle?" he grimaced half out loud to himself. He glared again at her large round melon-sized breast as it refused to release his gun. The young girl was still smiling sweetly and innocently, as she looked down at herself, lifting her hands from her hips to run them sensually over her breasts, her fingers tracing the outline of her other nipple. She was breathing faster and faster as her fingers fondled her breasts ever more firmly as she tried to stroke the gun across her nipple. He was shocked as he suddenly realized that she was actually getting turned on by the struggle, watching in amazement as the nipple of her other breast grew much larger between her fingers, the hard point straining outward against the thin fabric of her dress. Suddenly, with her other nipple growing impossibly large, he heard and felt a loud crack radiating up through his arm.
Almost screaming in shocked surprise, he saw the heavy barrel of his rifle splitting open simply from the force of her expanding nipple. He was so startled that he convulsively jerked the trigger to send another powerful bullet racing down the now shattered barrel to impact her now harder-than-steel nipple. Something clearly had to give, and wasn't going to be the flesh of this young Prime's breasts. The powerful bullet instead rammed against her super-hard nipple before heading in the only direction it could, racing back up the barrel. The chamber exploded in his hand, hot fragments of steel flying in all directions.
Screaming in pain, he crumpled over as he held his shattered hand against his stomach, his legs finally collapsing as he fell sideways onto the floor.
Equally shocked but completely unhurt, Marlen gasped at the burst of pleasure that the sudden explosion brought her. She also knew that she wanted more. She went to the man, still huddled on the floor clutching his hand to his stomach.
She pulled down the front of her dress to expose her other breast as well. Reaching down, she put her hands under his arms and lifted him up to face her. She gently worked her hands behind his back as she held him to her, pressing herself against his chest to try to calm the wild tingling that filled her breasts.
As she held him, she felt her breasts beginning to flatten very slightly against the man's strong chest as she started to hold him more tightly, his knee rubbing against her crotch, the sensations sending thrills through her strong body. She also felt the firm grip of his fingers under her skirt as he held her bottom so tightly. Pausing for a moment, her senses full of these wonderful feelings, she found herself getting very aroused, her arms instinctively holding him more and more tightly, the tiny muscles under her soft skin tightening as her breasts became so much firmer.
Smiling suddenly, she decided that maybe she was going to enjoy these Terran men after all, especially if they were really into sex. Just as she had enjoyed numerous Beta men before. Many Betas, but not yet any Terrans.
She began to react simply as women have always reacted to being turned on. Without thinking, she soon found that she was holding him so tightly that her firm breasts had stopped compressing, the man's ribs bending slightly inward under the firm pressure of her no longer soft mounds. Sensing the erotic contrast between her strength and the man's, a feeling of tremendous power surged through her body. Yet despite that awareness, she was completely unaware of how strongly she was holding him, his body bending around her firm chest. A thrilling tingle started between her legs and ran up across her stomach until it reached her breasts, unconsciously compelling her to begin to use her breasts in a way she had never imagined possible, using them to completely overpower this man. A distant part of her mind knew she could just as easily use them to destroy him if she wanted to.
That hidden part of her mind suddenly rushed forward, relishing the sensation of his ribs bending further inward as she flexed her biceps more strongly. She suddenly remembered what this man had tried to do to her. Without truly understanding where it was coming from, she felt a sudden wave of righteous anger flowing through her as her subconscious mind resolved to stop this man from ever hurting anyone else again.
That exciting thought, one that was strangely erotic, the thought of totally overpowering a man with just her physical strength, was enough to cause her body to become totally aroused again. Her nipples, now as 'super' as her muscles, grew until they were more than an inch in length as they pressed firmly into the man's chest. Yet because her breasts were already compressed to the point where they were in equilibrium with the man's strongly muscled chest, the increase in pressure gave them no place to go except through the soft masculine body that she held in her arms. She was barely conscious of the man's final gasps as her expanding chest forcefully expelled the air in his lungs. She knew only that her nipples were burning and tingling strongly, and that she needed to stroke them across his strong chest. She suddenly loved the little thrills she felt as each of the man's ribs bent her nipple downward slightly before they would slip free and snap upright again, his chest growing wetter, the slippery warmth helping her nipples slip smoothly over his ribs.
"Mmm, delicious!" she murmured as she rested her cheek on his shoulder, her long silky hair draped luxuriously over his upper body. Without realizing that she was doing anything but indulging in her own sensual pleasures, her steely nipples slowly ripped through his heavy work shirt and into his chest muscles themselves while she simply basked in the wonderful sensation of rubbing her nipples against his hard ribs. Her powerful hands held his upper arms as she started lifting his body up and down across her body, her embrace so forceful that her now steel-hard nipples began creating two huge deep furrows down his chest. She continued to hug him tighter and tighter as she slowly reached her arms further around his back, his ribs painfully and slowly bending inward around her inhumanly erotic breasts as she pressed them more and more firmly against his chest.
He reacted by painfully reaching up to grab the sides of her chest while frantically trying to push the distracted girl away from himself. Yet he was terrified when he found that he couldn't make the slightest difference in the pressure that her breasts were exerting against his chest, her eyes remaining closed as she seemed to be indulging in some private fantasy. Struggling like a man possessed, his vision started to grow darker as he found that he couldn't breathe any more either, the pain of his torn skin and muscles becoming more than he could bear. Finally, with one last gasp of strangely erotic agony sweeping through his body, he felt his ribs passing the point of no return, his fragile calcium bones collapsing noisily under the inexorable pressures exerted by this super girl's beautifully firm and now completely lethal breasts.
Meanwhile, lost in a fantasy that was beyond ordinary human comprehension, Marlen continued to dreamily hug the man even tighter to herself as she unconsciously bent his spine further and further under her hands until it too snapped in half, her hands effortlessly pushing his shoulder blades into the remains of his chest as his body collapsed in her tight embrace. So lost was she in her erotic reverie that she still had no idea what she was doing to this man. Her eyes remained closed as she enjoyed the tingling feelings that coursed through her young body. Smiling dreamily, her soft lips gently kissing his ear, she leaned her head on his shoulder while letting her long silky black hair flow gently down his back.
At the same time, the immense and uncontrolled strength of her hands continued to crush the remainder of this Terran man's ribs, fracturing his lower spine while she gently ran her fingers across his torso. Squeezing her thighs together to try to push his knee more firmly up against her hungry crotch, she was frustrated when she felt his leg suddenly dissolving softly between hers, a muffled snap barely audible before all the resistance of his leg faded away.
Growing more and more frustrated, she ran her hands lower down his back until she finally held his hips, a sudden irresistible urge to press his body even more firmly against herself. Tightening her abdominal muscles, she suddenly felt several very sharp cracks, totally unaware that his hips had just shattered against the wet steel of her hard pubic bone, guarding as it did her suddenly needful sex. Completely lost in the overwhelming sensuousness of her passion, she pressed him ever more firmly between her legs, the remaining bones of his thighs bending the little they could before they also shattered loudly.
Yet at the same time, another part of her mind was awakening. That part of her consciousness quickly noticed that the man seemed much smaller and softer in her arms now, his body now far too soft in fact to be interesting to the 'other' part of her anymore.
It was at this moment when the flash of realization of what she was doing to this man caused her to suddenly snap her eyes open. Overcoming her hazy sensual daze, she looked down to see the man's distorted and crushed body hanging in her arms, horrified as she suddenly realized that she had broken nearly all of the bones in his body as she had hugged him to herself so passionately.
Just then, another man came towards her, his weapon raised into firing position. She opened her arms and stepped backward, the crushed body of the now dead man falling into the formless heap of a rag doll on the floor. She quickly pulled up the front of her uniform, put her hands back on her hips, and turned to face this newest 'threat' to her.
She reached out and closed her left hand around the barrel of the weapon, twisting it away so that it no longer pointed at her. As he put his left hand on her arm, she started bending the metal tube around his right hand. Being hollow, the tube was easier to bend than the bars on the cell had been. She felt the bones in his hand break as she pressed the metal against it. Flesh and gunmetal mingled as blood spurted out. His screams mingled with the squeal of the metal.
Lieutenant Commander Michael Sinclair came from a long line of Royal Navy officers. His father and an uncle had both been at Jutland with Jellicoe, fighting against the German High Seas fleet in the previous war.
Strange, that had been the 'war to end all wars', yet here they were, only a generation later, fighting another war. "Well, at least it's job security," he thought wryly to himself. "It looks like the Sinclairs will always have a place in the Navy. At least as long as we live."
An ancestor had fought, and died, with Nelson at Trafalgar. Another ancestor had sailed against the Spanish Armada. He would not have been surprised to discover that an ancestor had been there at Hastings, fighting on one side or the other during the Norman Conquest.
Shortly after this war started, he had been put in charge of a small Commando unit, composed of people from all three services. As the Germans overran the continent, he had also picked up some people from the occupied countries.
Now, he was in Norway again, covertly meeting with the partisans of the underground. This time, he had come alone, delivering a supply of explosives for an attack against a hydroelectric power plant when he was told of the capture of some of the alleged collaborators that had been working with the Nazis. He had immediately gone over to see them in the cellar underneath the local resistance safehouse.
Upon meeting them, it didn't take him long to decide that these were indeed some of the alleged aliens that he had heard had been working with the Germans.
They had not been anything like he had expected them to be. He had expected tall muscular men, straight out of the Nazi propaganda machine. Or else some green tentacled creatures like he had seen on the cover of a pulp magazine the last time he had been to the States, before the war.
There had been three of them. Two young women, seemingly hardly more than girls. And quite beautiful. A man, severely wounded. He was amazed that somebody could still be alive with wounds like that. One of the women, the more beautiful one, who had given her name as Marlen, seemed to be the one in charge. She had told him that the Germans had attacked them, killing the other two members of her unit.
When he had asked, she had eagerly accepted his suggestion that they come to England to join the fight against the Germans.
Afterwards, he had radioed London with his report and asked for further instructions.
As he waited for the reply, he thought back to the stories he had heard about these alleged aliens. Rumors, really. And conflicting ones, at that. One set of rumors said that these aliens were thousands of times stronger than humans were. And that their bodies were harder than steel, that they were bulletproof. That they could even stand up to cannon fire.
Another set of rumors said that these aliens were only five or ten times stronger than humans were. And while they were correspondingly tougher, they could still be killed by bullets almost as easily as a human.
Both sets of rumors agreed in that these aliens were helping the Nazi cause. Not only with their physical strength, which made them superb soldiers, but also with their advanced scientific knowledge and their advanced tactics.
Now, he had just received word from his superiors. He was to forget about the hydroelectric plant and to bring the aliens back to England as soon as he could. They were sending a submarine to meet them. He got out his maps to plan the route to the rendezvous, to have something ready before he went downstairs to talk to them again.
He wrinkled his nose again at the smell of fish that pervaded this entire inactive fish canning plant. Suddenly, he heard the sounds of gunfire from the cellar. He dropped his maps and rushed down the stairs, closely followed by one of the partisans, with whom he had been discussing the route.
The sight that greeted him when he came out of the stairwell and turned the corner towards the cell holding the three aliens froze him in his tracks. The beautiful young girl in the red and gold, who had given her name as Marlen, had managed to get out of the cell.
It was easy to see how she had gotten out. Four of the bars were just twisted and mangled pieces of steel. How they had gotten that way, was a little harder to determine.
Not that he had the time to worry about that right now.
A more immediate concern was what Marlen was doing now. Her left hand was closed about the other man's hand, as he held a rifle. Or rather, as the rifle held him, he could see that the rifle barrel was bent and twisted around the man's hand, with blood dripping down his wrist. His other hand was closed about her arm, trying to free himself from her one-handed hold. Her other hand was resting on her hip.
There were two other men slumped against the bloodstained wall. He started to go towards those two men, but stopped. He could tell instantly that they were both dead, one from the impossible angle of his neck, the other from the way his body had been crushed, apparently against the wall. He could smell the blood, and the gunpowder.
All of these men were armed. Or had been armed. And in the close confines of the cellar, it was hardly likely that they had missed often. Yet the girl was still alive. And two of the men were not.
He thought back to some of the stories he'd heard before about these aliens. If he'd had any doubts about those stories, they were gone now. It was clear that she had killed those two men, and was in the process of killing, or at least seriously injuring, a third man.
He was also convinced that she had bent those steel bars with just her bare hands.
Even as he watched, the big partisan who had just followed him down the stairs threw himself at the girl. She reached out with her right hand and caught him around the throat.
He gasped in amazement as she lifted the big man clear off of his feet. He didn't think that he could have lifted that big man off of his feet using both of his arms. Yet she held him up as if he didn't weigh any more than a handkerchief did.
She shook the man in her right hand as if he was no more than a rag doll, and then flung him against the cement wall. He heard the sickening THUDs as the body hit, and splattered, against the wall. He didn't need to look to know that he was dead just like the first two.
She then flung the other man against the blood-spattered wall. He didn't need to look to see that this man was also dead.
Then she turned and looked directly at him. For an instant, he thought that he saw her eyes sparkle and flash with a faint purple light, and he suddenly felt warmer than before. "Are you going to use that on me?" she asked, putting her hands back on her hips.
He realized that he had his sidearm in his hand. He also knew that it was absolutely useless against her. Slowly, he lowered his arm and put the gun back into its holster. He spread his arms out to his sides and turned his palms towards her to show that his hands were indeed empty. He took a couple of steps backwards, until his back hit the wall.
Even though she had obviously just killed four men, he thought that she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. It was hard to believe that the beautiful young body in the scandalously short dress had the strength to bend those steel bars and kill those four big, and armed, men. And that she could just as easily kill him as well, whether he had his sidearm or not.
As the man backed away from her, Marlen realized that she had killed again. Four more men, with her bare hands. And she had enjoyed doing it. Again.
She looked at the four bodies and the bloodstained walls. Four men dead, at her hands. And she hadn't felt a thing as she had done it.
No, that wasn't right. She had initially felt some anger because one of them was harassing Chirren. Then, she had felt some exhilaration at her power over them. And she had felt a sense of sexual arousal as their puny weapons had struck her soft breasts. That feeling had only mounted as she had continued killing.
"How could I feel sexual arousal when I was killing people?" She collapsed against the wall, trying to control her shaking.
Michael saw the girl collapse against the wall. He tentatively stepped towards her, his empty hands outstretched.
"Stay away from me! Don't touch me!"
He backed off, spreading his arms out to his sides again. He saw the other girl, the one in black, who had given her name as Chirren, come out of the cell and squat down next to the girl in red. Standing motionless, he watched as Chirren half led and half carried Marlen back into the cell and onto the other bunk.
After about a minute, he approached them. When Chirren glared at him, he stopped on his side of the bars and showed her that his hands were empty.
He couldn't help noticing the bent bars. He saw that not only were they bent, but they were also crushed. He could see the deep impressions in them. They were a little too small and too close together for his fingers, but he knew that they had to have been caused by her fingers.
Despite what the doctor had said, Tyree did survive the night. But not that much longer than that. He died shortly after noon, even his Arion constitution unable to cope with his grievous wounds.
They buried Tyree that night in the forest. Marlen had dug the grave, her last gift for a man who had served her well, her hands and eyes digging in the frozen ground much faster than a dozen men with shovels and picks could have done.
Naturally, Marlen and Chirren did not attend any of the services for the four men who had died in the cellar. The men that she had killed, killed with her bare hands. She had apologized to the underground leaders for what she had done, at the English officer's insistent urging.
Afterwards, they stole away into the night with the English officer to make the rendezvous with the submarine in a nearby fjord.
Some members of the underground set out in another direction to create a false trail. After what she had done, she was sure that they were glad to see her go.
During the night, they ran into a German patrol, as they were working their way down towards the fjord and the water's edge.
None of the patrol would live to report the contact. After all, they had been heavily outnumbered --- there had only been four of them, armed with their rifles, against one young female Arion Prime, empty-handed, but not unarmed.
