“This is Ugly 3-2. We have entered the Red Zone. Weapons are at condition 1. Over.”

“Roger that Ugly 3-2, happy hunting. Over and out.”

The pair Eurofighter’s tore through the late evening air. Its was Flight Lieutenant Steve Hass’s first combat sortie after graduating from flight school. He struggled to settle his nerves since one twitch of the joystick at this kind of speed could prematurely end his first mission, and possibly his life.

A glance down at his radar showed no threats, but it was prone to failure in the Other Earths atmosphere. He and his wingman had to resort to peering through the haze, scanning the line of mountain like trees nestled among the planet like mountains for signs of Cult movement.

“Charlie, you see anything?” He radioed to his wingman.

“Negative, I got nothing.” was the reply.

They had received a tip-off from a Consulite spy that there was going to be a Cult patrol through this area, and it was going to be Steve and Charlie’s job to cover an ambush set by the Consulite’s, but so far they had heard nothing.

They circled the area, maintaining a high altitude to avoid detection.

Just as they were about to give up, Steve lost control of his plane. His head was throbbing, he couldn’t see anything, his mind a blur of pain. Suddenly, as quickly as it arrived, the pain left. He pulled the jet out of its downward spiral, climbing back up to his wingman’s altitude.

“Human, please respond” A voice said, inside Steve’s head. They had been warned about this before being deployed to Other Earth, it was the Consulite’s favoured form of communication, since they lacked the humans technological ability.

“This is Ugly 3-2, Human Eurofighter. What is your situation?” he thought clearly, remembering his training on this subject.

“The patrol has been spotted, due east of the fork in the river. We require your support as a distraction to enable us to cross the river to engage them. I trust that you can provide this?”

The voice we female, like all of the Consulite. It had a rich, accented sound, and was a pleasure to listen to. However, Steve didn’t have time to admire it, he had a job to do.

“Roger that, we are armed with four 2000lb bombs and two rocket pods each, will they be sufficient?”

“They will do. Please make haste, time is of the essence.”

“Ok, I need a visual confirmation of the target, where exactly is it located?”

Steve proceeded to double check the location of the patrol, and began his run in, roaring low over the tree line.

The Cultists didn’t know what hit them. The relative size of the Steve and his plane meant that he was nigh undetectable by conventional means, so the first indication the Cultists got of his presence was the large explosion that had blossomed in their midst.

The 2000lb bomb was very large by human standards, which meant that it actually had very little physical effect on the towering Cultists (Apart from the unfortunates caught within the blast who suddenly found that they were missing several limbs). The retaliation, however, was very swift. Deadly bolts of hellfire arced up from the Cultists, and Steve veered out of the way of the crude antiaircraft fire. This enabled Charlie to run in unseen from the west, dropping his first weapon onto the Cultist mages who revealed themselves by firing on Steven.

Steven then wheeled his plane around, coming in fast and low whilst the Cultists where disorientated by Charlie’s attack, dropping his last 2000lb bomb into the fray.

By this time, the Consulite forces had crossed the river, engaging the Cultists with bow and sword. Their work done, Steve and Charlie circled the battle, observing the graceful Consulite figures finish off the already weakened Cultists.

Pain lanced through Steve’s head once more, though not enough to distract him from flying.

“The Cultists flee, we shall run down and exterminate them in the forest. Thank you for the assistance friend”

Steve was about to reply, but was interrupted by what only could be described by a scream, and then;

“Flee sisters, it’s a trap, flee! Human, protect us as we cross the river, it was a tra-”

The connection was severed.

“Charlie, engage with rockets as they leave the tree line”

“Roger that Steve”

The pair began there final run from the river. Their rockets could only fell a Cultist if they were close enough, so they had to fly almost touching the water. As they neared the shore, the remaining Consulites burst from the tree’s. There numbers were much fewer than they were when Steve saw them last. They were running full pelt towards the water, grace replaced by fear as they pounded along.

Behind them emerged the Cultists. Clad is skimpy red armour (the Cultists believed that there god would protect them from harm), they chased their prey towards the water.

Steve and Charlie orientated their jets so that there could slip between the Consulites, setting there rockets to unguided since there would be little time to laze targets.

The jets sped between the huge women (both men, against their better judgment, for a split second gave into their urges, ogling the female warriors was they passed at breast height). As soon as they passed, they swerved to either side, firing rockets as they turned, creating an impressive fan effect, in order to hit as many targets as possible.

Fire bloomed on the chests of those hit, knocking most off there feet. The Cultist’s hesitated for a split second as they saw there sisters killed by the dart like human jets.

Charlie released his last 2000lb bomb as he passed over the Cultist mob, decimating part of the line. They wheeled about to make a final run at the Cultists, as the remaining Consulites dove into the water, beginning to swim back to the other shore.

Again the two jets skimmed over the river, firing the last of their rockets into the Cultists. However, this time, the Cultists were ready. Waves of hellfire met them as they passed over.

“Pull up!” Steve yelled into his radio, yanking the stick back. Charlie managed to avoid the streams of flame as he rose, but Steve wasn’t so lucky. The explosion as the jet impacted q bolt forced it into a downward spiral. Without thinking, in the haze of heat and pain, Steve ejected. He was catapulted high above the red ball that was his plane. The G forces knocked him unconscious for a few seconds, and when he awoke, he was drifting down towards the forest. Through a gap in the leaves he fell, before being jerked to a halt as his parachute snagged on a branch.

He was left hanging loosely, high above the forest floor. He hung there for a minute, in shocked silence. Around him, the forest was quiet. The leaves rustled in the slight wind. Steve then noticed a figure, lying in the centre of the clearing his was hanging on the edge of. It was clad in leather, long pointed ears broke through the flow of bright brown hair. The gold star with a triangle in the middle on her back marked her as one of the Consulite soldiers. Is she dead? Steve wondered. He could see no blood, nor any wounds. He contemplated shouting, but he doubted it would help. She looked about 40m tall, and even if she was capable of hearing him, he doubted that she would be well enough to respond.

Steve’s train of thought was lost by the sudden snap of a twig. He glanced toward the source of a noise. Something was in the forest. He then saw a figure emerge, and his heart plummeted. Clad in red in the red armour of the Cultists, this women left nothing to the imagination. As beautiful as they are terrible, Steve remembered from his briefing. Her eyes alighted on him hanging helplessly from his branch, and a smile spread across her face. She walked towards him, ignoring the Consulite, and drew a long wicked looking blade. She raised it, bringing it down upon the ropes holding him up. He plummeted to the ground, landing face down on the soft grass, he rolled over, and gazed up at the towering goddess of a women. She moved her crimson boot over him, and pressed down on his lower body, preventing him from moving.

“Well well well” she said softly. “Another puny human to enjoy”

Her wicked smile said it all.

Steve was doomed.

Steve may have been battered and bruised, but he still had some fight left in him. Reaching down to his trapped midsection, we drew the sidearm he had strapped to his belt, and started firing. The Cultist stumbled back in surprise, releasing the pressure on Steve. He scrambled to his feet, and stumbled away through the waist high blades grass.

He didn’t get far.

A huge hand came out of nowhere, and swept him up into the sky. The pressure on his chest was intense. He looked in horror at his captors perfect form as he was hoisted past her smooth pale chest and perfect orb like breasts covered in crimson leather.

She wasn’t smiling anymore.

“I’ll squeeze you till you pop, human scum” She spat.

The pressure was unbearable, Steve felt he was going to explode. His world went fuzzy and his head span. ‘This could not be then end!’ He thought wildly.

He was correct.

The pressure was suddenly gone, and Steve felt himself tumble back done to the ground. The hands that where once squeezing the life out of him where now clutched to his captors chest, cupping the end of a sword. Blood seeped between her fingers, and the expression on her face changed from anger, to surprise, to fear, then nothing as she tumbled sideways, off the thin blade.

She hit the ground just after Steve, luckily to the side of him. Her eyes, once beautiful and cruel, now locked in deaths eternal stare. A final sigh drifted from her luscious, full lips, and washed over him. There was a stunned silence. Steve turned from the Cultists mountainous corpse, to his saviour.

The Consulite stood, clutching her stomach with one hand, the other holding the blade that had saved Steve. She fell heavily to her knees, dropping the sword, and gasped “Human, please, show your self!”

Steve pushed forward through the grass, raising his hand in the air. “I am here!” He shouted.

She turned her head at the sound of his voice, and said “Please, jump on my hand, we must leave this place”. She gently lowered her hand to his level, and Steve heaved his battered form aboard. “I am sorry, you’ll have to go in here until we have put some distance between us and this awful place ” she opened a pouch on her belt, removing her other hand from her stomach, revealing a tear in her blue leather armour, and what looked like a deep gash in her pale skin.

He was dropped into the pouch, which luckily contained nothing else. He glanced back up at his savour, who grimaced down at him.

“This is only temporary, I am sorry”, and with that she closed the pouch, sealing Steve in darkness.

The pouch then began to bob, and then bucked wildly as the Consulite broke into a run. “This is going to be a long night” Steve muttered to himself, as he was thrown awkwardly around the pouch.

Steve lost track of time. Trapped in this darkness, being thrown from own side to the other constantly. The sudden decrease in pace of recent events paired with the loss of the adrenaline boost made him very tired, yet in this bucking prison, sleep was not an option. Instead, Steve sort to remember everything he could about this strange world and its even stranger (yet undeniably rather beautiful) inhabitants.

He, and all of his companions on his squadron, had been deployed to this place to aid the Consulites in their long conflict with their Cultists foes. Humanity had not been told how this war had started, or why the two sides hated each other so much.

The reason why the UN had decided to deploy there forces here was to both protect the diplomatic relations with the Consulites, and, perhaps more importantly, the economic benefits this relationship brings to both sides. Due to the vast size differences (The Other Earth and everything on it where many times the size of Earth), It was very economical to import materials from Other Earth to Earth due to more material being present in the Other Earth. So the UN gained raw materials, in exchange for the technology humans where so adept at creating.

However, there was one other reason why the UN had deployed troops here. If the Cultists captured the one Rift large enough for people from the Other Earth, then an invasion would be unstoppable.

So its not all about politics, Steve mused. The thought comforted him, because it meant that he was protecting his friends and family. It was the reason that he has joined the RAF in the first place, that and his love of flying. A sudden wave of tiredness overcame him. Maybe sleep wasn’t impossible after all.

z88;

Steve’s sleep was interrupted by a burst of sunlight from above. Through the intense rays, he could make out a gloved hand reaching down to him. It closed lightly around him, encasing him in its warm, soft clasp. He found himself being pulled upwards into the light. The experience was surreal, as it felt as though he was floating slowly upwards. However, as he was drawn out of his dark hole, and the bright light slowly faded into sky and trees, it all came back to him. Fear was first to strike. Questions flew around his head; Where am I? Have I been captured? Am I dead? The hands that held him suddenly felt like a prison, and Steve started writhing in an attempt to escape. His fear blinded him as scrabbled around the huge digits, trying desperately to escape. Everything started to feel like it was closing in on him as his panic climaxed into a harsh yelp.

“Shhhhhh…” The soft, sweet sound washed over him like a breath of wind, calming him instantly. He stopped moving, held still by the power of that beautiful voice. For the first time, Steve noticed his surroundings. He was being held by a young women, a heart renderingly beautiful sylph like being. Her face was thin, and angular, covered in pale skin, accented with strange spiral markings that ringed one of her glowing eyes. Thin tresses of bright brown hair floated down her head, pieced by sweeping angular ears. She was lithe and supple, her blue leather outfit closely fitting her strong and thin figure. She brought her hands together, cupping them so that Steve could stand.

Her voice jolted him out of his trance once again.

“What is your name, Human?”

Her voice was soft, yet carried well.

“Err” he mumbled, his brain still not feeling up to speed. He shook himself in an effort to speed it up.

“Flight Lieutenant Steven May, Ma’am, of Her Majesty‘s Royal Air Force” He eventually replied, his training kicking in.

“Mine is Kyrain, of the Tra’lia Sect. I apologise for the bumpy ride, we had to leave that area as fast as we could, it was crawling with Cultists”

She gently eased him to the ground.

“I must get a fire going, it shall be night soon, and it can get very cold this time in the cycle”

She laid her hand on the ground, and Steve, still groggy from sleep, half jumped, half fell to the ground.

Kyrain stood up, towering into the sky, Steve barely reached her ankle.

“Please stay where you are, I need to collect some wood and I do not wish to tread on you when I return”

Steve observed as she strode to the edge of the clearing they were in, and bent down to collect the fallen branches of a wizened old tree. She arranged them within a ring of stones to form a tepee like structure. From a bag she had attached to her belt she withdrew a handful of fine powder, which she scattered over the pile. Holding her hand out over it, she muttered to herself. Steve stepped forward to hear what she was saying, a move that he immediately regretted as he was knocked back by a crack and a blast of heat as Kyrain’s structure burst into flame. Luckily, she didn’t notice as Steve picked himself of the floor, brushing himself off.

Kyrain had made the fire just in time. A sudden wave of cold seemed to sweep over as the large sun sunk below the horizon, and the twin moons that orbited other earth rose to take its place. Complacent in the heat of the fire, Steve took of the ruined parachute harness that had been severed by the Cultist soldier. He also struggled out of his uncomfortable g-suit, content in the more comfortable under suit. Kyrain had sat down behind Steve, and seemed to be watching him. He then replaced the belt and holster that had previously been attached to his g-suit, and turned to the Consulite.

“So where exactly are we?”

“I am not completely sure. We are still south of the river, in Cultist territory. We should aim to cross the river as soon as possible, and get back into friendly territory.”

“Do you have a map?”

Kyrain’s face fell.

“Tylia, a member of my team, had it. We lost her in the first seconds of the battle.”

Conversation died with that statement, returning the clearing once again to silence.

Kyrain sat, staring at the ground, her expression sad. She is only just coming to terms with her loss, Steve realised. She had it a lot tougher than him. To the best of is knowledge, Steve’s wingman and only other human on the scene, Charlie, had escaped. Kyrain, on the other hand, must of lost many friends. From what he knew of the Consulites, Kyrain appeared to be very young. The markings on her face indicated that she was in around her 18-20th cycle, slightly younger than Steve. Consulite upbringing was a lot harsher than its human equivalent, and as a result of this they matured a lot faster, but the first experience of loss is the same for everyone, no matter what their age is, no matter what their race is.

Steve felt at a lose for something to do. Should he comfort her? Or would she rather have some time to think?

He went for the former. Walking over to the gargantuan figure, he placed a hand on her shin (The only thing he could reach).

“I’m sorry for your loss. They died defending what they loved. They will be remembered.”

She turned to him, and smiled slightly.

“Thank you”

She picked him up lightly, placing him on her lap, and continued;

“and also, thank you for the assistance. You risked your life to protect my kin as they retreated, and for that I am grateful.”

“I just did my duty”

She again lifted him up, this time to her face, planting a light kiss upon his head. For one second, that touch had Steve paralysed in ecstasy. Then, as he was lowered, she continued.

“You could of died, or worse, been captured by those vile sirens. I have heard what they do to humans when they capture them, truly a fate worse than death. And you risked that to aid us, to fight a war on a planet that is not your own, in a dimension that is not your own, in aid of a race that you have only just met. That is truly going beyond the call of duty. I, and the rest of my kin, are eternally thankful for you and your fellows help.”

There was nothing but Steve could do smile up at her, still woozy from her touch.

“Now, I must rest. The journey was long and my legs ache terribly.”

She place him back on the ground, took the bulky belt from around her waste, and lay on her side.

“Sleep well, and may the stars watch over you.”

She closed her eyes, and fell into the realms of sleep.

Steve was left at a loss. He figured he would be able to sleep since his short stretch in the pouch had not been the most rewarding rest wise. He settled for lying beside his prone savoir, close enough to gain some of her warmth since the fire was slowly dying. Staring up at the stars, he fell asleep with one thought rocketing around his head; That kiss.