A Soldier for All Seasons

"Ana, look!" Ana felt a weight on her chest, light breaking her away from a pleasant dream.

"Guh," She said unintelligibly. "Wha?"

"Wake up," Cora shook her. "You have to see this!"

"G'way." She slurred. "I'm with Nate."

"Seriously, this is about Nate!"

Ana sat up sharply, rubbing her eyes.

"Ok, I lied." Cora admitted. "But look at my face."

Ana gasped. "Eyes!"

"I know!"

"You have eyes!"

"I know!"

"Oh, they're so beautiful." Ana grabbed her face to examine her closer. "Oh wow, they're—"

"Rose bloom, or like a slightly darker cherry blossom, or like that bird that doesn't fly—"

"Or like your hair. I love them." Ana said truthfully. "And so will Nate."

"It doesn't matter what Nate thinks," Cora brushed off, though Ana wasn't buying it. "But I have real eyes, not optics, not lenses, not cybermods."

"They look incredible. But how's your vision?"

"Good, okay. Still kind of blurry." Cora blushed. "I mean, I don't want to complain."

"It's okay," Ana squeezed her arm. "It'll get better. But we need to see Nate more."

"Yeah," Cora said enthusiastically. "I need that magic juice."

"Do you have to call it that?"

"Why?"

"It's so..."

"Uncouth." Cora finished, smirking. "I've seen what you do to get that magic juice and

that

was uncouth."

"You're such a—" Ana struggled.

"Bitch. Say it!" Cora demanded, laughing. "Or would that be uncouth?"

"Uh," Ana rolled her eyes and then lit up as the ship intercom made a loud notification sound. "Are we there?"

"We must be." Cora padded out of their room in only her panties and a tanktop. Ana watched her go.

"Do you have a hidden panel in your glutes?" She asked curiously.

Cora popped her head back in. "Did you only just notice? The panel gap is insane, this psycho doctor only had one eye because his other was being worked on—"

Ana hopped up and gave her a side-hug as her smile dissipated. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything, I just hadn't noticed before. Nate will fix everything." She promised.

"I believe you. And I," She hesitated. "I believe in him." Cora span on her heel. "But first we gotta get back there."

At the bridge, stars, supergiants — red stars, yet to explode, processing helium, swirling on the surface, like liquid lava. But they'd come to this exact spot for a reason. They'd done the calculations, looked at the star maps from Tallaris, evaluated the distance from the Aurelius Constellation. The insect constellation did not have bright stars.

It wasn't famous.

It wasn't impressive.

But there was a little gap where the bug of stars, one antenna longer than the other.

Ana figured that if you were going to put a fake star, a fake light, for just a moment, that was where you'd put it, atop the other 'antenna'.

"Look, what's that?" Cora pointed at something on the window.

A small asteroid drifted past. And behind it, a mass of metal, a spherical ball with its innards open.

"Is that—" Ana started.

"An ancient satellite. They've haven't made them like that for centuries." Cora finished. "One of the wings has snapped, look. The design only made sense when we didn't have fuselarium flows—"

"Right." Ana frowned. "They must have tugged it here."

"Let's get closer."

"Exosuits?"

"Exosuits."

Once they'd suited up and tethered, they looked at each other and giggled. The bright orange exosuits never looked cool, especially with the transparent bobbleheads.

"How do you even make

that

outfit work?" Cora complained.

"Shut up!" Ana laughed as they floated out the hatch. With the amount of control they had over the computer inside the ship, there wasn't much danger in the exoship, even though it was bad practice to have them both on the outside.

They landed with heavy claps on the satellite, almost making it spin.

"Careful, don't get it caught in the tether." Ana warned.

"I got it, I got it."

"You've done this before?"

"Exo-work?" Cora made an odd noise. "Sure."

"Cora!"

"Well, how have

you

done it?"

"I've done safety training, basic flight academy, the basics."

"Really?"

"Mother didn't want me to be

completely

unprepared for life."

"Oh."

"What?"

"I thought you were going to say something weird like Nate wanted to fuck you in space."

"Cora!" Ana blushed. "That's not even like, a thing."

"Sure it is. I've seen videos."

"You're joking."

"I'm not! They had to make a special two-man tandem suit for, y'know, docking."

"That sounds so—"

"Hey, what is this?" Cora exclaimed, waving Ana closer. She disconnected something. "It's a modern exo-armguard. This came out like two years ago. It shouldn't be here."

"Well, what's it doing?" Ana felt a glimmer of excitement run through her.

"I can't tell out here. Let's head back to the ship."

Back on board, Cora examined the thing atop the bridge's consoles. "Yeah, it's a hackjob. They've modded it to use the ancient connection tools that satellite uses and then routed them together."

"Can you tell what it's doing?" Ana bounced on her heels.

"Give me a minute," Cora frowned. "Oh, ok. Pretty rudimentary but it didn't need to be fancy. They've just brute-forcing the rotation of the satelite, as well as powering the whole thing. Oh, hey, they've hooked it up the holo. It rotates when it receives a message on the holonetwork."

Ana hummed. "So they can send it a message to tell the Prince to get out of there. Can you tell where it came from? I bet it came from Jarek."

"Well, it's not like it says From Jarek." Cora smirked. "But, if I take that message and I see which satellite it first bounced off to send the transmission, it looks like it's from—" She cut off.

"From?!"

Cora turned to her and gripped her hands. "The message is from Iril — it's from where Nate is

right now!

"

###

"Judgment Day." Bastian rubbed his hands, glee on his face.

"Why are you so excited?" Graz grumbled. "It's meant to be hell."

"Because this is it, Graz." Hakeem chimed in. "Either we make it or we don't. If we nail this, it'll matter more than every skirmish, every duel, every course. This is the real deal."

"So what do we know?" Nate asked to the dormitory.

Lita smacked her hands on the door loudly as she entered. "We're about to find out. All hands on the deck."

"Finally." Bastian snapped to his feet. They followed him with more trepidation.

The deck too was full of shifting feet and nervous energy, palpable with every long exhale.

Rivero and Carmichael stood with identical smirks, watching the march of the damned.

"Alright," Rivero started. "You know why you're here. This is where everything you've learned will be tested. It's Judgment Day. You will be dropped, completely naked, no guns, no clothes, not even any fluff in your belly button. And we're dropping you in a frozen tundra."

"We'll freeze to death!" Someone shouted.

*I can regulate your body to lessen your ability to feel the cold.* Isabelle announced.

*Thanks, hun.*

*This may have a detrimental effect and further speed up your death.*

*What would I do without you?* He thought dryly.

"That's why I'm giving each of you a nice red flare!" Rivero held one up. "Light it up and it fires high like a firework — you don't even need a flare gun. Get a chill in your bones? Just flare it up and you'll be as cozy as a baby in Carmichael's lap."

Carmichael grinned, showing off his pointed nashers.

Nate waited for the punchline.

"Of course, if you do that, it's an automatic fail." Rivero crossed her arms. "You go home, you do not get a chance to argue, you do not get any pay, you do not get to retry, the door doesn't even hit you on your way out, because as far as you're aware, there never was a fucking door. You'll go home and shoot soda cans or whatever the fuck you did before you came here."

The trainees lit up with a fierce buzz — Nate saw an array of unhappy faces.

"Oh, come on," Rivero goaded. "It's not

all

bad. Look, to be nice, we'll drop some crates all across the tundra, full of lovely gifts and rations."

"What do we need to do?" Someone asked. It sounded like one of the deflated Serpent team. Nate didn't know why they were upset — it wasn't like this was a team mission.

"All you have to do is survive and make it to the North Pole."

"How far is it?" came a shout.

"Oh, I'm hardly answering that. I'm sure you'll all do great." Rivero said flippantly. "Remember, you can go solo, you can try and find your team, you can make new allies — there are no rules. Win at any cost and if you can't win,

survive

, at any cost. This will separate the Judges from the Jury from the incompetent. Wheels up in ten and we're leaving with or without you."

Twenty minutes later, Nate sat, stomach heavy, knees pressed from both sides. Some looked sick. Some looked nervous. Others blustered about their might.

"We're flying high and HALO-dropping. Twenty second intervals to stop you from being too close to each other," The pilot announced, "But we're not worried about that. It's a

big

chunk of snow and ice. Glad I'm not you, hah!"

Nate rolled his eyes.

"Drop at the beep." He continued.

"Good luck, guys." Nate told his team. "We're all gonna do fine. Try and find each other, don't trust anyone, things are going to get dirty down there. Be careful around the crates. First step is to get some heat, a cave, animal skin, whatever. Right?"

Graz swallowed hard.

Lita fist-bumped him.

"I shall follow your lead, team leader." Lunar informed him, eyes burning.

He patted her knee. "You'll do great, Lunar Moon."

The ramp opened. A harsh burst of freezing air shot through the ship, so cold it stilled them all. Snowflakes and rain cast in, landing on their face, waking them up to their reality. The wind was heavy.

A blizzard.

They were dropping into a blizzard.

"They can't drop us in—" Hakeem shouted, but his words were drowned out by the sheer din of the stormy wind.

One by one, he watched trainees get pulled up to the ramp and unceremoniously stripped. Nobody laughed. Not at the guys. Not at the girls.

Not when they were pushed out into the storm and instantly disappeared, like pebbles over a cliff, only this cliff was moving.

Nate wished it was day at least. The colds of this planet were brutal, but the sun could be welcoming. He'd just have to make it through the night.

One of the instructors pulled him by the collar once it was his turn. They cut his uniform with knives and shoved them down around his ankle, forcing him to step out of them.

"Good luck, horsecock." One of them laughed in his ear, forcing a rig onto his back.

And then he was out and away, flying into the black abyss, rain and snow in his open jaw, the pressure against his face so hard he could barely open his eyes. When to pull the chute? He couldn't see land, couldn't see light.

Pull quick, try and navigate towards the Pole. He figured, his brain working slowly, overwhelmed.

He pulled his cord.

Nothing happened. Something tore.

He pulled again.

Nothing. Nate shot down, going so fast he couldn't blink, panic filling his guts.

He pulled again. His spine cracked as he was suddenly hauled back. A quick glance back told him his chute was up and holding. There was a hole — small, tearing bigger, like his panic rising.

Below, his squinted eyes could finally see ground, rising up too quickly. Trees, just shadowy blurs on the snowdrift, coming to greet him.

"Fuuu—" He screamed, deploying his reserve canopy. It burst up, colliding with the main canopy he hadn't cut off, tangling. He span wildly, slowed but still too fast.

Trees.

He had to go for the trees.

But he couldn't navigate, could only gasp for breath as he fell.

The ground took shape. A snow-dusted forest plain, bare and sparse.

And down he went.

His feet smashed into the trunk. Fabric tore. Head cracked against a branch. Blood pore into his eyes.

His spine bent badly.

Blurry. And then softness. Cold. His feet were cold.

He wiped his eyes. He was hanging in a tree, the canopy behind him, caught in the trees. Below, the snow welcomed him.

"Fucking fuck," He allowed himself a second of respite before he unbuckled himself and fell into the white blanket.

"Ow—" He rolled around and looked up at his canopy, ripped into streamers, caught around every branch. "Of course," Nate sighed. He was going to use that to keep warm.

He stumbled to his feet, testing his injuries. His spine complained but it didn't seem broken. Blurry vision — probably concussed. One step, two. But he could walk.

He could survive.

He wasn't climbing that tree, though, not with his concussion.

All around, just blackness, shapes in the distance, but nothing to follow. No sun to see north. And he couldn't remember the landscape from the ship above.

But the stars were bright and clear — and he'd lived in those stars since he could walk. He knew them better than the scars on his skin. And he'd spent hours on this cursed planet staring up at those stars, wondering where Ana was, wondering what she was doing.

And there it was — Corvus Major. The star that sat above the North Pole, unmoving, or so it appeared. He could follow that star all the way to victory, to Judge status, to Ana.

"Alright," He mumbled. "Let's do this."

One foot in front of the other, crunching in the snow.

*You can do this.* Isabelle told him. *I'm keeping an eye on your temps, you're okay for an hour.*

*An hour, huh?*

*Cheer up, Nate. I've seen what you can do in an hour.*

Nate snorted.

*Gonna need your help a lot, Isabelle?*

*And you'll have it. We're a team, remember?*

*Yeah, we are.* He smiled at the thought. He wasn't alone.

Ten minutes walk took him nowhere, but his vision was clearing up, even though his headache worsened. Nate kept his eyes on the sky, hoping to see someone else drop, but the blizzard was too hard. Just rain and sleet.

Something howled. Someone?

*Isabelle?*

*My analysis indicates...wolves. Unsure what type.*

Nate bared his teeth. "Perfect."

*It is?*

"Direct me."

*Umm, turn thirty degrees right and keep walking. Are you sure this is a good idea?*

The cave appeared out of nowhere, the blacks suddenly shifting to grey, a gaping maw underneath a hanging rock, so big Nate didn't even have to stoop.

The howl was closer this time, hair-raising. He swallowed his fear.

This wasn't ominous.

This was opportunity.

*Nate, close!*

He bent down to grab a rock from the ground. And that almost saved his life, razor-sharp teeth sailing over his shoulder, the stench of dead flesh washing over him.

He turned and a wolf growled at him, baring its long teeth. It circled him and he circled within its sight, crouching.

*Adjusting eyesight to low-light conditions.*

And he could see the wolf. Too large, see the yellow fangs. The fur was white but dirty, muddy, darkened.

The wolf growled and leapt forward. But this time, Nate was ready. He twisted his body and smashed the rock down, sensing more than seeing. He aimed for the head but got the neck, battering it down.

The wolf snarled but Nate was already above it. He didn't miss, braining it hard, bludgeoning it senseless, unless he was gasping for breath and the wolf lay senseless.

It took longer than the fight to cut its skin off it, and it was harder still to keep from vomiting from the sight and smell. He had no choice.

It was this or death.

And when he walked out of that cave, he wore the wolf, its eyes above his. He stared at the world between two big fangs, the wolf's warm pelt protecting his head and his body.

The sheer cold was still bitter — but it wouldn't kill him.

Better yet, he'd found a sharpened rock, a weathered man-made rock-knife in the cave, a victim's weapon that hadn't worked from time gone by. He slit it into the inside of his wolf pelt, weapon hidden, so he looked as innocent as he could while wearing a wolf on his head.

Step one.

Nate took a deep breath to try and lessen the adrenaline, willing his hard cock to soften.

*How fucked up in the head am I?*

*It's not an uncommon response to high—*

*Isabelle?*

*Rather fucked.* She said dryly.

He couldn't help but laugh.

Feet following the North Star again, feeling better about his chances, Nate allowed himself a smile.

An hour late, that smile had firmly dropped. The wind had picked up, the bitter bite of it cutting through the significant gaps in his wolf pelt. His headache had turned into a severe migraine, his throat feeling dry, sharp.

Nate stuffed a mouthful of snow down his mouth, gasping at the wet relief. He trudged down a slight hill. The snow and rain had lessened a little, the moon appearing, providing a little light.

There were torn canopies on the ground, fallen trainees who'd taken the fabric for clothing. He followed their footsteps for a bit, if only to feel less alone.

Small footsteps. A woman.

He followed them mindlessly, feeling his body about to collapse.

*Need rest.* He thought stupidly.

*Nate, wake up! Your body is losing heat fast.*

Nate shivered uncontrollably, lumbering forward, following those footsteps. They moved aimlessly, at first with purpose and then unsteadily, and so did he.

*Wind audio analysis indicates rocks to your east.* Isabelle told him.

And that was where the footsteps led. Another rock outcrop and Nate breathed a sigh of relief as it blocked the sharp wind a little. Another cave and at its base...another wolf, hiding in the snow, bulging and prone.

Nate grinned, bloodlust filling him. Another pelt to warm him.

He stumbled forward.

*Nate, you're in no condition to—*

Nate scowled as he fell onto the wolf. Unsteady hands went to its neck...but it was no wolf. It was Lunar Moon. Blue-skinned, shivering, blank eyes staring upward, covered in snow-fall, just the thinnest parachute canopy covering her skin.

"Lunar!"

She did not reply, stared through him.

"No, no, no—" He mumbled, hooking his hands under her shoulders and lifting her up with an almighty cry. He fell and just about caught her, his shaky feet taking him into the cave.

Into the dark, into the damp. Compared to outside, it was paradise, the musty air a testament to how well it was protected from the elements. He took her as deep as he dared and then stripped her of the useless canopy, wrapping her his wolfskin.

With Isabelle's instruction, he rubbed her skin, trying to force the blood flow, trying not to take liberties, hiding her figure as best as he could under the wolf skin. And when that failed, he breathed into her lips, willing her back to life.

And slowly, very slowly, her color returned to something approaching normal.

As she got better, he faded.

*Nate, your vitals are getting worse. You need to warm yourself up.* Isabelle instructed, worry in her voice in his head.

*How?* He thought stupidly.

*Body warmth. Get in close, that pelt is big enough to cover you.*

*But—*

*Do you want to die?* Isabelle cried.

Nate muttered apologies as he scooted behind the curvy Mediator, feeling guilty as he delighted in her warmth. An arm around her waist to pull her close, his breath on her neck, every inch of her body pressed against his, so cold turned to heat. His cock pressed against her soft backside and Nate felt like he was warming up purely through the act of blushing, purely from the strain of willing his cock to soften.

He pulled the wolf pelt tighter over them, feeling them both warm.

"Nate?" Lunar moaned. "Is that you?"

"It's me. You're okay. I found you outside of the cave. We're inside, we're going to be okay."