Fighting Them There

###Fighting Them There: Chapter Twenty###

###Fighting Them There: Chapter Twenty###

"Can you ask her to count? Like, to twenty-four?" Leticia was a gate technician, and didn't feel remotely qualified to head the Rosetta Project. She wasn't, of course. Wasn't qualified, and wasn't the head. But the top linguists who had been summoned to Camp Acheron had not arrived yet, the high heralds of the Khagans had not arrived yet, the royal scribes had not arrived yet. And with no one in the project with any real credentials actually present, it fell to Leticia to do preliminary interviews.

Hunter Max Mitchell nodded and turned to the literal monster in the seat next to him. "She wants you to count to twenty-four." The Tartarian responded with a question rather than a series of two dozen distinct titles. "I don't know, why does it matter?" He seemed as lost as Leticia, andheheard her words translated for him as if by magic. Literally by magic, even. When she moved her arms to gesticulate, it drew attention to the fact that she was naked and her skin was orange with black spots. She gave a surprisingly long winded explanation, and Hunter Mitchell looked like a man afraid of heights. "Um," he gathered his thoughts and prepared to try to explain to Leticia what the monster had explained to him, "she says that the counting is different depending onwhatyou're counting. They divide things into whether they are motivated by all thirteen weaknesses, just some of the weaknesses, or none." His brow furrowed as he scrambled for an example. "I guess people have all the weaknesses; and maybe something like a tree thirsts for water, but it doesn't get angry, so the numbers are different."

The rabbit hole opened before her, and Leticia realized that she was going to be asked a lot of very stupid questions by very highly ranked people when she delivered her first report. There were stranger counting systems on Earth, even counting systems where different objects were counted in different numerical bases. This was just different words.Three treesused a different word forthreethanthree rocksdid. It wasn't the strangest linguistic choice she'd heard of, but it wasn't something that made intuitive sense to English speakers. The non-technical officers were going to flip out.

They went through three sets of countings. There were some subtle differences and some major differences. In all three cases the second set of twelve numbers was obviously related to the first set of twelve numbers. It wasn't exactly regular, but it wasn't inherently worse thanthreeturning intothirteen. When she had the seventy-two numbers written down, she felt exhausted and triumphant. The use of liquid and nasal consonants as vowel sounds was initially rough, and sounded like the monster was choking on sandpaper when she spoke, but none of the sounds were things she was incapable of making with her mouth, nor were any that she couldn't write down using the Latin alphabet. It could have been much worse.

"A lot seems to depend on these weaknesses," Leticia contemplated, "but what actuallyarethe weaknesses?"

Max agreed that seemed a pretty important point. "Quirky," he said, having clearly given up trying to pronounce the monster's name, "what are the thirteen weaknesses?" There began a surreal ritual where the monster Kwrtzl would ominously intone a word, and then Hunter Mitchell would say a word in English. "Hunger... Thirst... Fear... Anger... Fatigue... Lust... Jealousy... Curiosity... Ignorance... Trust... and Greed."

Leticia looked at her list and she looked at the people she was talking to. "That's eleven. Are there two missing, or is this a base twelve numbers thing?" From the way the hunter's face fell, she inferred that it was the former.

Max and Kwrtzl exchanged some quick and hushed words, and the Tartarian went through the weaknesses again while counting on her fingers. She did it by placing her thumb into the spaces on her fingers that came after the joints. Leticia wasn't sure what those parts of a finger were called, and checked her pad. According to the information assistant's diagram of a hand, those were called the phalanges. She wasn't sure that was right, but she did notice that there were indeed twelve of those positions on a human hand. Twelve on a Tartarian hand as well, so that form of finger counting probably seemed completely natural to them. When they had identified the missing weaknesses, they got back to Kwrtzl speaking the word and Max repeating it in English. "Pain... and lastly for real this time, Regret."

After counting and recounting, Leticia confirmed that she had a list of thirteen. It was an odd list. She could think ofmanymore than thirteen weaknesses. Did they not think shyness or disorganization were weaknesses? It was like the ancient priests of Tartarus didn't understand her at all!A knock at the door signaled that someone else wanted his time, and the gate technician was more than happy to yield to someone else. She had some real insights that she could write up into a paper that would get a lot of attention in academic circles. The most exciting thing about this project was precisely that the Space Force was letting them publish some of their findings in public access academic journals. Tartarian language studies was something they wanted as many eyes on as possible, and the only eyes they wanted to hide it from were safely blinded on Tartarus. Leticia's report on Tartarian numbers and consonant progression was going to get a ridiculous number of citations, she just knew it.

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"Do you know why you're here?" He had lost track of how many time Lieutenant Cortes had asked him that question. A part of him always wanted to answer in an excessively narrow or broad sense, to give a reply that was trivially true but obviously sarcastic and disrespectful.

He sighed. There was nothing for it but to address the elephant in the room. "Yes Ma'am. Quirky and I represent a tremendous intelligence and diplomatic opportunity. So we're stuck here giving counting lessons until we can come up with a plan to do something similarly spectacular." He shrugged. He couldn't believably pretend that he was OK with the current situation, but he could demonstrate that he understood the situation he was in well enough to avoid doing anything that would get him put into a real cell. Of course, he was in an actual prison, such as it was, but it wasn't because he was in trouble. Hunters all knew that every dungeon was also a fortress, and Camp Acheron's brig was the most protected part of the base.

The relationship between stress and ulcers is much more complicated and tenuous than once thought. The reality is that most ulcers are by specific physical causes such as bacterial infections and swallowed hazards. It is nevertheless true that stress exacerbates ulcers and can cause gastritis that feels similar to a developing ulcer. "Igenuinelyhate to ask, Hunter Mitchell, but what do you have in mind?" Her question had been sharpened until the edge on her voice could cut silk. The prospect of Max convincing the brass that he should be allowed to gallivant around in harm's way made her stomach feel like she'd swallowed battery acid. Not because it was a crazy and impossible idea, but because she thought he might actually succeed. And then she'd end up having to explain to representatives of allied planets that she'd let their Tartarian translator risk his life fighting monsters.

"Everyone wanted me to leave a slot open so that I could put seals on a Tartarian. I've done that." He looked at the Lieutenant, practically daring her to disagree. She made a gesture that implied that she accepted the premise. "As I see it, there are five more things I might be able to do that justify me going back into the dungeon." He began counting on his fingers, but for him that involved holding up a whole finger for each numbered point. "The first three are that just as there was a riddle in the dungeon that let me bring back Quirky, there are likely to be riddles to put seals on monsters from other Nemesis Worlds. Maybe I'll come back with a vaetti guide, or earn the obedience of a blood gemmed golem. Maybe I'll come back riding a mirror cat as a steed. I don't have a specific plan for any of those, but once I figure one out, I think that you won't just let me go back to the dungeon, you'll force me to go as often as possible until I make it work."

A sour taste manifested itself in the back of Lieutenant Cortes' throat. "There was a time when I would have rejected such grandiose pronouncements out of hand, but given that the Tartarian prisoner factually exists, I have no choice but to entertain your ideas seriously." There was no part of her demeanor that indicated that she was happy to be doing so. "You mentioned five, and those are only three. Or perhaps many more than three if you are considering vaetti, trolls, and giants separately as monsters that might join your harem. What are the other two?" No amount of distaste could hide her obvious curiosity.

He had to concede that she had a point about the different kinds of monsters. "Yes Ma'am, there are a lot of different kinds of monsters. The first riddle led us to Quirky, and not a nightmare or imp. For Jotunheim, we'd have to consider all their differently sized humanoids, and also whether some of the beasts. Maybe a slime or rage bear is tamable. When we have something actionable, we'll tell you right away." He realized that he had sidetracked himself. "Anyway, yes. The other two propositions are about my domain, and the black gate." Certainly words to conjure with, black gates were the most dangerous things that had ever come from the Nemesis Worlds, having cost millions of lives. If he hadn't already had the officer's attention, he definitely had it in full. "We know how to get a domain, but we don't know what it does. I amass enough Mastery, we conquer a dungeon, and the domain establishment option is given right there. The dungeon has given me equipment that is only for that." He gestured toward some folded cloth. "The flag makes the domain,mydomain, gain dominion faster. It came out of a chest with awhitesigil. The Ancients thought this was very important. These ribbons go onto mycourtiers, and they increase their levy bonuses in different categories. They came out of a chest with agoldsigil. That's considered powerful and important too."

Heavy words provoked Lieutenant Cortes to produce a heavy sigh. "I understand that the domain is probably important to you. It seems like it's an important part of your class, and the other things your class do are already unprecedented..." She didn't even bother with thebut...portion of her response, there was no need. He could speak to a Tartarian. They were getting straight answers to questions that elves and orcs had debated for thousands of years. What could his real estate laddering possibly do that would justify putting that in jeopardy? "You mentioned a black gate. You realize that you can't just bring that up and not explain yourself."

Max shook his head. "No Ma'am. It's... well, Quirky's understanding of my class is that I am equivalent to the Demon Lord of Guangzhou. Or, I guess the Demon Lord of Guangzhou was equivalent to me early in his career, before he had stationed his dungeon enough. Before he had completed his domain." He let that thought hang, and Lieutenant Cortes' eyes bulged as the gravity of his statement sunk in. "The Tartarianshaveclasses like mine. Or at least, they have had in the past. And Quirky's understanding is that when I advance my domain enough, it will open a black gate. Presumably onto one of the Nemesis Worlds. We talk about how learning their language and speaking to the monsters might give us a way to end the war, or at least one of the fronts of the war. I think it already has. I don't know how long it takes to complete that Domain advancement. I don't know what planet we'd be invading. I don't know who or what we'd be able to take on that mission, but the Demon Lord of Guangzhou had a pretty sizable army with him. I think the journey to making a black gate is pretty long, and I don't think we can start that journey until my party gets back into a dungeon and claims one as a domain."

"Fuck." She recognized that he'd saved the best argument for last, and it was a pretty good argument. Invading Tartarus. Or maybe Mictlan, or one of the others. Not a decision that she could make as a First Lieutenant. Not even a decision for a General of any number of stars. This needed to go all the way up to multi-planet political discussions. Her worst fears were being realized: she was going to have to go off world and give testimony at a clan moot. "OK, I'll grant that that is a compelling argument, but you also understand that there's no wayIhave the authority to unilaterally greenlight the invasion and conquest of an alien planet. Is there anything you need right at the moment?"

He chuckled. "Yes Ma'am. One way or the other, I'm going to need more time to train with my... with the women who have my seals on them." He thought for a bit. "And is there any way we can get Quirky somepants?She's naked, and everyone looks at her like a monster."

"Sheisa monster." Lieutenant Cortes replied curtly. "But we can get you guys to the tailor. Obviously, nothing in our uniform stocks is going to fit someone with wings and a tail."

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"Tell Sophie that I want to see her, even if she is hurt.Especiallyif she's hurt." Miriam and Chaeryn had come for training, but the rest of the slaves were still in the infirmary. Max wanted to visit them, Sophie most of all, but he was in protective custody and could not.

Miriam had assumed the position first. Knees on the floor, breasts on the bed, and hands reaching back to pry her butt cheeks apart. "Her injuries marred her skin," she told him over her shoulder, "and she's very self conscious about it."

He transferred the goo from his fingers to her puckered anus and Miriam gasped at the cold, but also in anticipation. "I don't really think that I would mind as much as she does. Even if she has injuries, she's stillSophie. I still love her. Like, obviously it matters that she's suffering, but that just means I need to be there for her more. She doesn't need to hide from me just because of some injuries." He huffed at the injustice of it all, and then gently but insistently rubbed the lotion into and around the Geomancer's anus. Miriam groaned and opened her rear end even more.

Chaeryn watched with quivering lips. Her envy seal ensured that she was going to enjoy the proceedings, but she still wished that it was her asshole that was being prepared to take Max's cock. "We can relay to her your preference for involvement, Master Max." Miriam panted and nodded, though whether she was agreeing with the Assassin's plan or encouraging Max to impale her with man meat wasn't easily discerned.

The only occupant of the room who didn't seem to be up to speed was the Tartarian. "{Master, what are you doing to your slave?}" Her own envy seal was beginning to tingle, and she didn't know why.

Neither Miriam nor Chaeryn could understand the bat winged woman, so the explanation had to come from Max himself. "I'm going to fuck Miriam up the ass," he explained, "I'm getting get butt ready so I can fuck her with my cock." Both the redheaded human and the white haired elf moaned in response.

The black haired Tartarian had more questions. "{Does that mean you have defeated her in battle?}" While it was technically true that Chaeryn was an alien, Kwrtzl was really alien to Max, and sometimes she would ask a question that reminded Max of that fact.

"Wait... what? First off no, we're doing this because that's what she wants, but why would that even be a question you would ask?" His confusion was contagious, and two of his party members suddenly became incredibly curious about the part of the conversation they were missing.

For her part, Kwrtzl found herself needing to justify herself. "{It's just, you're an Incubus,}" she said, sounding quite defensive, "{and sometimes an Incubus who has defeated an opponent will have sex with their defeated foe's butthole in order to establish dominance. To take pleasure from the fallen, and to make the defeated humiliate themselves with pleasure of their own. I've never heard of butt sex for any other purpose.}" That particular Tartarian ritual was known to the Alliance, although it had always been interpreted as simply random acts of pillage by atavistic monsters. The idea that it might have some significance other than simply as a monstrous thing for monsters to do with those they had captured had of course been discussed ad nauseam, but now he had actual proof. It was actually pretty distressing, and he wondered if he could get his Tartarian accomplice to explain cannibalism, mutilation, and all the other horrible things that Tartarians were on record as doing when they had opportunity.

Such was the enormity of the potential report that Max almost lost his boner. He did not want to discuss atrocities while having sex with a beautiful woman. He didn't really want to discuss them at all. "Look, Quirky, I'm not going to fuck her butt to establish dominance. I'm going to fuck my slave in the butt because shelovesgetting fucked in the butt. Isn't that right, Miriam?" He moved his cock up to touch her sphincter.

"Oh yessss Master Max," Miriam hissed out, "I love it when you take my ass. You can establish dominance, Master! Establish it in my ass!" While it wasn't exactly the answer he'd been looking for, it was a difficult offer to decline. His cockhead spread her anal ring, and then his shaft began its intrusion. Centimeter by centimeter, he slowly entered her territory and annexed it. "Oooooh! Master's fucking my ass. It's soooo good." The ecstasy of her response was obvious, and the envy seals for both pointy eared onlookers pulsed with progression.

When Max's beast had disappeared entirely into Miriam's hole, he held himself there for a few moments, simply feeling her warm embrace along his length. "You see, this isn't something I'm doingtoMiriam, this is something I'm doingwithMiriam. I'm not trying to humiliate her, or defeat her." He pushed with his hands and pulled with his hips, freeing a few centimeters of his cock from Miriam's jealous grasp. She emitted a whine, and then he reversed course. It was not a fast thrust, but a slow and deliberate reinsertion that bottomed out in her bottom. "This is what she wants. Miriam is an anal-loving slave." Miriam moaned her agreement.

Gradually speeding up, he pistoned in and out of her asshole like a steam train. The power of each thrust was enough to make the Geomancer's whole body quake with each thrust, and as the speed increased her flopping against the mattress to a degree that was both comical and erotic. "Ummmph! Ummmph! Ummmph!" Miriam made muffled mouth music as Max mashed her into the mattress. Her exhalations merged into a single wail as her orgasm took hold, and her grip intensified until she had received her master's Essence. "Thank you, Master." She lay splayed across his bed sighing in contentment while Max wobbled to a standing position.

Gesturing to the dazed Geomancer, Max spoke to Kwrtzl. "Anal sex isn't an act of violence, it's an act of love." His admonition provoked a happy sigh from Miriam and an excited fidgeting from Chaeryn. "I don't have anal sex with all my slaves, but the ones who want it, want it quite a lot." He gave Miriam's upturned rump a pat.