Depending on your tolerance level, this may well be considered NSFW. It pretty much is, but I still thought it might be okay. Hey, if Felicia is okay to post, surely Katelicia is too, hmm? But then, I do tend to push the borderline.
I sat in the darkest corner of the tavern, my back to the wall as was my standard procedure.
Well, actually I was two tables away from the darkest corner of the tavern, as that spot was already taken by some pretty mean looking Orsimer, and the next one to it was occupied by a scowling warrior woman and a pretty surly looking kid. But it was still pretty dark.
I was well into my cups as the night wore on, drinking away a bad memory.
“You sure?” the wench asked.
“Damn sure. Hell, bring two. That way I won’t have to bother you again for a while.”
“Okay, but you know you start staggering at two, Wendel,” she quipped. “I’ll put a little more water in them, alright?”
“You do that,” I said to her backside, watching it sashay back to the bar. Belinda was an okay gal, but she was married. Of course, that hadn’t stopped me from a bit of flirting with her a few weeks back when I’d arrived, but it had all been for naught. In fact, she’d told me in no uncertain terms to buckle my pants back up.
Somehow, even with my rugged face and humorous banter, I’d never been lucky at love. Not that I really cared. My life as an adventurer provided far more pleasure than any brief fling with a member of the opposite sex ever would have. Probably. I didn’t really know for certain. But probably.
My last adventure had nearly cost me my life, in fact. I had been attacked by no less than three tremendous beasts that I had tracked deep into their lair. Fortunately my swordsmanship and amazing dexterity had proven more than a match. I might have quailed, just a bit, at the sight of their malevolent, sharp teeth, but I was not one to hold back. After a long, hard-fought battle I emerged as the only one alive.
Belinda returned with a tray, setting both mugs down with a flourish. I didn’t fail to notice her breasts swelling from the white Chemise under the laced bodice, but I looked away after she slapped my cheek.
“Hey, that was pretty hard!” I commented, rubbing my bruised, manly face.
Belinda sat beside me – an unprecedented move – as I began to swill from one of the mugs of light watered beer. I looked up from my tankard in surprise.
“Wendel, any closer and you might as well be nursing me. Try to control yourself, okay?”
I apologized reluctantly. “Sorry.”
“Wendel, what’s wrong?”
“You mean other than my non-existent love life?” I asked, sulking.
“Well, yeah. Other than that. Didn’t you have a job for Farmer Green over in Morrow today?”
“Yeah,” I admitted, taking another big swig. Belinda was still sitting beside me when the coughing stopped.
“What then? Did you kill the rabbits that were eating his vegetables?”
“Hell yes!” I said, turning to stare daggers of anger and menace at her eyes. At least that was my intent. Her hand under my chin brought my gaze up from where it had landed to her face.
“Up here, Romeo,” she said. “So, what then? Didn’t he pay you?”
“Sure did. How do you think I’m paying for this?!” I shot back with keen witted sarcasm.
“What then? Oh… wait. He has a daughter, doesn’t he?”
I closed my eyes, shutting out the memory, but her damn voice continued unabated.
“You didn’t…”
“No, I didn’t whip it out,” I replied. “I just asked if she wanted to go out with me!”
“Oh. I see,” Belinda said, putting a soft, warm hand on my back. It may have been the first woman’s touch I had felt since my mother’s.
“And she said no?”
I could hold back the tears no longer. I looked longingly into Belinda’s cleavage.
“She laughed at me.”
Again, the wench redirected my focus.
“But you killed those rabbits, right? That’s something.”
I nodded as she rose and patted my back again. As emotionally wrecked as I had become, I still didn’t fail to watch her walk back through bleary eyes. I saw her speaking with a man at the bar who turned to look at me. They were probably laughing at me. I downed the first half of my beer.
Goddammit. And, considering she hadn’t filed charges against me with the local authorities during that whole pants-incident, I’d always thought of Belinda as a friend, too.
The man rose and left the tavern, and all returned to normal. An hour passed and I was well into my fourth mug, feeling a little tipsy, when the door opened.
What walked into the tavern was nothing less than an angel.- a vision the likes of which I had only dreamed of in my rather fertile imagination. She was a Khajiit, dark yellow and verging on orange. As for clothing, she had no need. She had been endowed with thick, white patches of fur over her shorter yellow fur, that banded her arms and legs as well as her breasts, covering her privates as if nature herself had bestowed the most fitting clothing imaginable. She was radiant. A feline goddess.
She sat at the bar, and immediately a man beside her engaged her in conversation. A beer was brought to her by the bartender and she thanked the man who paid for it. She spun around on her swiveled bar stool and downed the tall mug in a single draw, banging it down against the bar as she completed her revolution.
Here, at last, was a woman that was a match for me! I heard her demand another in her dulcet, catlike screech, and the man beside her reluctantly fished for more coins from his pocket.
This routine was repeated twice more until the man beside her shook his head at the bartender and stood up to leave.
“Hey! Come back misther!” the Vision called to him as he waved her off. “I wanna other one!”
This was my opportunity. I took another shot of courage, accidentally spilling a large portion of it down my shirt, and rose from my chair, striding confidently to the bar.
Unfortunately, so was one of the Orsimers from the dark corner. I wouldn’t say he pushed me out of the way. It was more like I bumped into a concrete, moving wall of muscle.
“Pardon me,” he said to the Khajiit Goddess, sitting in my destined seat.
I slid to the side, pretending to have to go to the lavatory, I pissed angrily though, and emerged more keen than ever to displace the gargantuan green interloper. As I passed the pair though, I saw she had obtained a refilled mug and was downing it with gusto, her large clawed hand resting on the Orsimer’s thigh, so I returned to my seat and quaffed the remainder of my watered down beer.
“After all,” I figured, “If the guy bought her a drink, it would be rude of me to intrude.”
I flagged down Belinda and ordered another.
“Five, Wendel? Really?” the woman asked incredulously.
“Dammit, yes! Give me a goddamned beer!”
“Okay. Your hangover,” she complied and turned to go.
“Um… Belinda? Maybe a little extra water?”
“You got it, champ,” she said.
She may have had a point. The room was spinning just a bit. I turned back to the bar, but both my Goddess and the Orsimer were nowhere to be seen! I turned to look around the bar, but they were gone. My heart sank.
Belinda returned with another mug and I began to cry to her.
“She was the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen!”
“Who? The farmer’s daughter?”
“You don’t understand. Nobody understands. I let her slip away! My Goddess!”
“She’s not that pretty,” the idiot barmaid said.
“No! Not the farmer’s daughter. She was right there!” I explained, indicating the spot that had so recently held the precious bottom of Her Whom I Worship.
“Oh really? Her?” the barmaid said, a huge smile coming over her face.
I sputtered into my beer. “One moment she was right there. Oh cruel life! Why must you torment me so?”
“Wendel, she’s from Madame Florentine’s,” Belinda said, as if that explained anything.
Still, my eyes grew wide as comprehension dawned. Not that I had a clue who Madame Florentine was, but the more important fact…
“You know her?!”
Belinda gave me an odd look. “Well, sort of. She comes in here when things are slow over there sometimes.”
I rose from my chair and strode over to Her seat, leaving Belinda to pick up the empty beers while I carried the fresh one with me. The floor seemed to lurch like a ship on rough seas, but I managed to approach the sacred place where she had so recently sat. I took the seat beside her Throne. It would be like sacrilege to actually sit at the same place as Her.
I couldn’t help myself. I touched the stool beside me. Still warm from her delicate touch! I bent over – just to get a closer look at the cushion. Suddenly a slap awoke me from my reverie.
“Damn you’re weird,” Belinda said as I sat back up, rubbing the cheek again. I tried to explain to her that it wasn’t what it looked like, but she was already gone.
Then I noticed the empty mug. Her lips had touched this very pewter! Well, at the rate she’d been swilling it, maybe not – but they had been close anyway. I slid it over in front of me and looked within. Empty. But a heavenly scent seemed to hover around the Holy Cup, just behind that of stale beer – her very breath!
I was just about to breathe deeply from it’s depths when a movement near the lavatories caught my eye. It was them! Oddly, they seemed to both emerge from the Men’s room, but I knew that my current vision was less than reliable.
As they rounded the bar, I was ready. This time I was going to confront the Orsimer no matter what. I was not going to let my Beauty get away without at least speaking with her, beating or no beating!
Yet, surprisingly, the Orsimer continued walking towards the door, a smile on his face as he handed my Queen a golden token.
“Thanks kitty!” he said, and continued towards the door, but I had lost all interest in him. She was here, right beside me now, and she ordered another drink from the bartender, proffering the gold coin.
Suddenly I was tongue-tied. My mind went blank. I couldn’t even look at her! She was so close, but despite my penchant for light talk and banter with women, I was mute! It may have been my imagination, but I felt the radiant heat from her body, so close now to my own.
“Hey!” she said, turning to me. Her voice may have been somewhat slurred, but to me it was as if heaven itself had opened up it’s choir. “Whachername?”
I began to tremble. I froze! Worse than mute, I couldn’t even turn to face her!
“Suture self”, she shrugged and spun around to face the room.
“Wendel,” I squeaked, barely audible.
She turned to look at me and I finally managed to face her directly. My eyes were dying to stray to other parts, but in front of this Vision I could not allow my baser instincts free rein! I took a quick draught to buoy my courage before responding.
“Wendel. My name is Wendel!”
“Oh! It talkths! Well, pleathed to meetcha Wen…”
Suddenly her eyes went wide for some reason. She was perhaps somewhat inebriated by that point, so she hadn’t really noticed my awesome chiseled features until then.
“Wait! You are Wendel?”
I shook my head, proudly.
“Oh! Yer my mark! I was subbosed to find you. Hey, I’m Katia!”
“Me?” I asked, not understanding.
“Sorry, I forgotted. Say Wen…” at that point she had to burp, rather loudly and long, “…del, are you really a virgin?”
This time it was my turn for the wide-eyes treatment. “No… No no no. You must be confusing me with some other…”
“Oh, cmon. don’t be shy,” she said, leaning in close. Her breath smelled of beer and something else, but I didn’t much care. I felt her wrap her arm around my shoulders as if in confidence. “Don’t tell anybuddy, but I was once a virgin too!”
“No. You?!” I said, not quite understanding what we were talking about but eager to have something in common with this gorgeous Khajiit woman.”
“Strue! Pretty much everbuddy schtarts out like that,” she said as if imparting some secret wisdom of the ages. She lowered her head until it touched my own and I felt giddy. “Know how I lost it?” she said.
I shook my head, still connected to hers as if we were part of a secret conspiracy.
“Damn. I was hoping you would tell me,” she said and started laughing as she turned back to the bar and her mug.
I took the respite to take another long pull from my own, laughing along with her, though I wasn’t really sure why. But I really didn’t care. I was in heaven. To think that this divine creature and I were sitting here, laughing and having a conversation together was more than I could have dreamed!
“I like your fur,” I admitted, hoping not to seem too forward.
“Oh, these?” she asked, brushing the thick white fur that covered her most intimate areas, then shocked me as she peeled one off. “They’re just stick-ons. They don’t stay on fur very good though. Made for human skin. Maybe I’ll try paint instead someday.”
She put the faux-fur strip back over herself.
“Whoa. You alright? Your redder than a Redguard”
“Ehhh. Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
I returned from a quick trip to the lavatory to clean myself up. Happily she was still sitting at the bar, resting her head on it.
I sat back beside her, trying my best to put the vision I’d just seen out of my head.
“You like my furclothes?” she asked between quaffs, “It’s pretty sexy, doncha think?”
I just nodded, trying to think of my grandmother.
She began to talk about herself then, and I managed to nod at the appropriate times, but it was taking far too long to get my mind off of her body.
Then she sat up and looked at me, her lids lowered. The voice that came from her lips was sultry and seductive.
“I…” she started.
My eyes must have grown to the size of saucers, dreaming of the words I felt sure were about to fall from her lips.
She sat looking at me longingly. What did fall from her lips was a bit of drool. It spattered on her breast.
“Yes?!” I said, with bated breath, apprehensive that what I saw in her lidded eyes might just be what I felt at that moment as well. It was as if the Fates had brought us two together, at just this time and place. The moment was nigh! Perhaps, at long last, I had found my True Love!
“I think I drank too much,” she finally said, and her eyes closed.
She slumped there for a moment, balanced precariously atop the barstool, before the inevitable fall to the floor. I managed to catch her as she fell. However, her sudden, full weight was more than I was prepared to accept and she landed directly atop me, bruising my lip in the process.
Dare I admit that having that gorgeous body laying atop my own was paradise? Can I not concede that the reality was even better than my wildest dreams? I stroked her furred back, running my fingers over her natural fur, and the odd tufts of fake white fur that served as her clothing.
“Katia?” I said, jostling her a bit. “Katia? Wake up!”
I looked over her shoulder and saw Belinda hovering over us.
“You all right?” she asked me.
“I think she might have passed out!” I said, turning to look at the face so near to my own. “Katia?”
The eyes opened ever so slightly and she pulled away from me.
“Wendel… I…” she said and I felt her move atop me.
The movement was more of a heaving motion. I cannot say what happened next was totally unexpected. Nor can I say that what expelled from that feline mouth was the most delightful ambrosia of the gods. She arched over me, now truly catlike, and heaved again. I closed my eyes against the inevitable as I became inundated with beer and bile alike. It was a truly unpleasant experience, but I shared it with Her so it was alright. Just as I thought it was over, that lovely body heaved again and another outpouring from her hit me.
Finally it subsided, and she sat back, cross-legged on the floor and looking at me without focus. Belinda and quite a few patrons were just laughing, but the barmaid handed me and Katia a couple of nice, large towels anyway, which we took gratefully.
A few minutes later I had Katia’s arm over my shoulder as we swayed down the street, singing a song that neither of us could remember the words to. She had become at least somewhat more lucid after she had relieved herself of excess drink, and had insisted I take her back to my place for the remainder of the evening. Who was I to quibble with a goddess, drunk or not? We staggered into my small apartment – really little more than a single room with an adjoining bathroom – still laughing and singing bits from the last song we’d almost remembered.
We both had to use the restroom and argued over who had to go worse. In the end, it turned out that it actually is possible for both a guy and a girl to use a toilet at the same time as Katia had suggested! You just have to be very careful. Or drunk enough not to care too much.
The rest of the night, I truly can’t remember. I know we slept together because we awoke in my single bed, practically piled on top of each other. To say that neither of us were in our best condition at that point should be pointless. However, she assured me that I’d been nothing less than a gentleman which I was rather proud of. Yet she saw it as a failure, somehow. She offered me a raincheck, though, before we kissed and she left.
Now, as I write these words, I realize a lot that I didn’t see last night, or even this morning in my hungover state. I need to thank Belinda, I suppose – though why she thought I would need that kind of ‘company’, I really don’t know. With my dashing charm, I need no paid-for love! But I’ll probably go ahead and find out where Madame Florentine’s is. I have a raincheck to cash.
In fact, it took Ra’Jirra three days to get back to Torval after she’d left the Hammerfell ship. The one thing she’d neglected to pack in the CAT was a stash of gold, and she couldn’t very well sell the gun. Once she’d gotten to shore, she couldn’t figure out what to do with the CAT itself, so she ended up dragging it into some weeds and just hoping no one found it till she could get some HMSS agents back to retrieve it. From there, it was a long hike with occasional stops on the way. She’d rediscovered her old talent as a dancer in the occasional bars along the way. Happily her talent was still in enough demand to keep her fed and a roof over her head. But the costumes she managed to get the regular girls to loan her were even skimpier than they had been in her day. She was rather proud that she still fit into them well, however.
When finally she made it back to the HMSS headquarters, she looked a sight and probably smelled about the same. Fortunately she knew all the correct codes and passwords so getting through security wasn’t a problem, but she loathed what Em’s secretary would have to say.
“Ra’Jirra?!” is what she actually said first.
“Hello. Yes, I know what I look like. It’s been a hard few days, and I’m broke.”
“Goodness, come with me. You’re not going in to see Em dressed like that! Have you even taken a bath?”
“I had one two days ago,” she confessed as she followed Em’s secretary out of the office to the gym in the building, where she insisted on Ra’Jirra take a shower – though Ra’Jirra secretly longed to get clean anyway. The secretary then gave her a workout outfit she kept in her own locker. After she’d put that on, Ra’Jirra was taken outdoors to a nearby clothes store.
There, the secretary bought her an outfit she’d never have dreamed of buying for herself – frankly it looked like an old woman’s outfit. The skirt was bad enough, covered all the way down to her feet with not so much as even the slightest slit on the side. The collar was so high that not a bit of fur could be seen at the chest, and even the sleeves were long and conservative. She came out of the dressing room feeling like an old maid.
“I suppose this is your idea of a joke,” Ra’Jirra said to the secretary. “Sure. Kick her while she’s down.”
“I beg your pardon! Ra’Jirra, you have no gratitude at all. Now look at yourself in this mirror.”
Ra’Jirra did as she was bid. She looked in the mirror. The khajiit that looked back at her was stunning. The outfit was every bit as conservative as she had imagined it, but it’s blandness just accentuated her best features, especially her hair. Even the high-necked shirt, covered with the laced-up vest looked unexpectedly sexy despite revealing nothing underneath. It was as if a light went off in her fashion-senses. By covering herself even more, she brought more attention to what lay hidden. The drab colors made her fur color stand out as well.
She looked back at the secretary, stunned.
“I… I don’t know what to say! It’s beautiful!”
“Of course it is, you idiot. Enough wasting time. Em will be wondering where I’ve gone. Why I risk my job for you, I really don’t know.”
The secretary stopped and paid for the outfit, then hustled her back to the HMSS headquarters.
“Miss… Ponsonby, right?”
The secretary stopped and looked at her, anger on her face.
“You’ve been here how many years? Yes, Ra’Jirra. My name is Loelia Ponsonby. Yes, I was raised by humans. No, it doesn’t have any secret meaning.”
“Miss Ponsonby, I’m sorry. I’ve severely misjudged you. I thought you hated me.”
“Ra’Jirra, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I hate everybody. Now get your ass in to see Em.”
“Well, thank you anyway.”
“About time I get some thanks. Now go on.”
Ra’Jirra stepped into Em’s office. He was writing a letter when he looked up.
“Ra’Jirra? Oh my god! Took you long enough! I thought we’d lost you to a Hammerfell prison, based on what Dar-Amon and Geeus told us!”
“No. I escaped. I just had a hard time getting back.”
Queue walked in then and nodded to Ra’Jirra.
“Welcome back Ra’Jirra. Where’s my CAT?”
“Long story Queue. Right now, if no one has found it, it’s in some weeds near the beach a few miles south of Senchal. I’ll draw you a map when I’m done talking with Em and you can send someone down to retrieve it.”
“Ah, yes. Okay. Em, I just wanted to let you know. We’ve just finished the last quality check on the new engine. It passes with flying colors. We’ll be fitting it to our first powered ship next week.”
“Excellent,” Em said. “Keep me updated.”
Queue left and Em turned back to Ra’Jirra.
“Where’s Wears-Only-Ropes? Does Hammerfell still have her?”
“I assume Dar-Amon has filled you in on the altmer underwater ship by now?”
“Oh, yes, yes. We’ve got tons of argonian witnesses, Geeus among them. War’s cancelled. In fact, your dark friend has sent us another secret overture for talks with normalizing relations with Hammerfell. It appears they know you and Wears-Only-Ropes saved their ship.”
“Yeah, they do. The Captain let me go actually, Em. With the CAT.”
“Really? That’s… unexpectedly decent of him.”
“But Wears-Only-Ropes was lost. She used one of the mines from the CAT to destroy the altmer ship but… It was a big explosion.”
“Hmm. I’ll send a message to Cyrodiil. Not sure if she has family there or not though.”
“Let me know if so. I’d really like to visit them sometime. She was truly a hero, you know.”
“I see. Well, welcome back. You can stay in the usual apartment. We keep it rented for visiting agents. Cheaper than a hotel, you know.”
“I know em. But thanks. Except… Em, I’m broke. Could I maybe borrow a bit from petty cash till I can get to my bank?”
“Oh, of course. Ask the secretary on the way out. Now go on. Take a few days off. Nothing pressing right now. But I do want a full written report in 2 days time.”
“Got it,” Ra’Jirra said, adding, “It’s Miss Ponsonby by the way.”
“Eh? What’s that?”
“Your secretary. Her name is Miss Ponsonby.”
Em looked up from some papers on his desk. “Of course it is, Ra’Jirra. What, you think I don’t know my own secretary’s name?”
“No, not really. But maybe you should call her that. Instead of ‘the secretary’”
He shrugged. “Okay, if it makes you feel better. See Miss Ponsonby on the way out.”
She did so and was granted plenty of spending cash, then went to the old apartment she often stayed at.
“Hello?” called a voice from the bathroom when she opened the door. It was a voice she instantly recognized.
“Dar-Amon?! I didn’t know you were here!” she squealed and ran into the bathroom.
“Ra’Jirra?!” said Dar-Amon. “Wait!”
“Whoa! Sorry Mister. I didn’t mean to interrupt your bath. I thought you were someone else,” she said at the naked Cathay standing in the bathtub.
“Ra’Jirra,” he repeated and she suddenly figured it out.
“DAR?!”
“Yeah, Ra’Jirra. It’s me. Sorry. Moon phases. I’m Cathay for two days.”
“Dar, you’re a hunk!”
“Really? You think so?”
“I do! Two days huh?”
“Yup,” he said, stepping out of the bath and towards her. “That’s an… interesting outfit Raj. Not your normal style though, is it?”
Ra’Jirra smiled and put her hands on his broad shoulders. “No. It’s not. Maybe it should be?”
Dar-Amon shook his head, “Maybe, but not right now…”
He began to unlace her vest slowly, not taking his eyes off her face.
Ra’Jirra pulled his hands away, and Dar-Amon’s smile faltered.
“No silly,” Ra’Jirra said, and zipped the whole lace off in an instant. “Too slow!”
Ra’Jirra sat atop the CATv3, motionless in the fog that surrounded her after the explosion. It still had a little power, but there was no sense in using it when she had no idea which direction was which. Instead, she waited for the fog to clear. Before too long she was able to see blue sky above her as the fog thinned, and not long after it blew away completely.
Somewhere behind her the Dominion lay at the bottom of the ocean, and with it, her friend’s remains too. Probably not far from where her crew members bodies lay. She tried not to think about that too much. Ropes had known it was a one-way mission. Still…
She saw the Hammerfell ship to one side. She was very happy to see it was still under sail, even happier to see it was turning back towards her. She waved to it and got the CAT running again, but it sputtered out completely before she had gone a few yards. So she sat waiting while the craft slowly wound its way back to her. Apparently it’s engine was no longer running so it was relying on the time-tested method of sails and wind.
It slowed as it approached and some argonians leaped over the side to swim to her.
“Khajiit?” said the first to emerge from under the water.
“Er… hello?”
“Bring her aboard!” called a man from high above them, and the argonian towed her towards the large ship, sending her around to scale a rope ladder up the side.
Ropes were lowered and fastened around the CAT as other sailors drew it out of the water and onto the deck.
As she climbed over the railing, a phrase came to her when she saw the Captain of the ship standing nearby looking at her.
“Permission to come aboard, Sir!” she called out clearly.
The Captain nodded to her, and a smile broke over his face at the pleasantry. “Permission granted. You find yourself aboard the Hammerfell ship “Cutter”, khajiit. I am Captain Spenglor. Whom am I addressing?”
“I am Ra’Jirra, with His Mane’s Secret Service, Sir. I must beg your pardon for being so inadequately dressed for such an occasion though.” she said, covering her lower region. “It’s been a long day.”
Chuckles were heard from around the deck, and she looked around at the crew. Primarily Hammerfell natives obviously, but they had their contingent of Argonians too – as had all large ships.
An officer wrapped his jacket around her which she gratefully accepted, though she couldn’t help but feel the breeze in lower places where breezes weren’t supposed to be felt.
“Please, then Ra’Jirra. Step into my quarters where we can talk. I have many questions, but I think we all gathered a fair idea of what went on out there. If I don’t miss my guess, you saved this ship.”
She had been walking with him, but at his words, she stopped and looked back out to sea for a moment. She saw the island, distant from here. Between them, there was nothing but open ocean.
“It’s my friend you should thank, Captain,” Ra’Jirra said loudly so that the crew could hear her. “She was an argonian sailor, like these in your crew. She worked for Cyrodiil, but she was a sailor, just the same. She died for you all, and for the crew she had lost.”
At this, her voice cracked. She hadn’t known Ropes long, but she wished she had.
“Her name was Wears-Only-Ropes, and you all owe her your very lives. Every goddamned one of you. So please, give her some respect.”
The argonians, as one, let out a cheer and the rest of the crew joined in, shouting “WEARS-ONLY-ROPES!” until it turned into a chant.
“Enough of this,” the Captain said, smiling. “They could go on for hours. Our flag may be Hammerfell, but sailors have a bond that goes beyond borders. Your friend won’t be forgotten.”
“So I’ve learned,” Ra’Jirra said, letting the tears flow freely and not giving a damn. Ropes would have been proud.
He patted Ra’Jirra on the back. “Let’s go inside,” and she followed him into his stateroom.
********************************
Ra’Jirra finished telling Captain Spenglor all she knew related to the underwater ship and the altmer plan to set Hammerfell and Cyrodiil at war. During her tale, the Captain sat attentive, only interrupting to ask a few questions. When she had concluded, he sat back in his chair and looked at her for a minute.
“That’s quite a story, Ra’Jirra. Can you back it up with any proof?”
“Captain, every argonian in the area will tell you the same thing. I also have a couple other agents that were there, if you want to turn back and ask them.”
He shook his head. “Can’t do it. We suffered some pretty significant damage, and our engine is broken. We’ve got to head back to Hammerfell. Ra’Jirra, out here I am a representative of the Hammerfell government. That little boat alone will be of great interest to us, I’m sure you know.”
“I do. The loss of it’s secrets will be a blow to Elsweyr.”
“And by extension, to Cyrodiil of course.”
She shrugged. “Not my decision to make, what secrets we share with our allies. But for all intents and purposes, I am your prisoner. I have little right to make demands. I only ask that you treat me with the courtesy of any political prisoner from a foreign nation.”
“Hostile nation,” he added.
“I suppose, if you want to put it so. I have worked against your country in the past, it’s true. And should my country ask me to do so again…”
“I understand loyalty,” he said. “I personally witnessed everything you did out there, Ra’Jirra. Everything I saw corroborates your story. But I have to ask you one question. When the fog had cleared, why did you steer towards us instead of back to the island?”
“Honestly, because I didn’t have enough power to make it back to the island. You were my best hope.”
“And if we hadn’t turned back?”
“I’m told the craft will recharge in a day. I’d have spent a very uncomfortable night at sea, if not worse.”
The Captain pulled a map from a drawer and laid it out on the table. It was obviously a map of the known ocean, with many arcane symbols she only vaguely understood.
“Ra’Jirra, tomorrow morning we should be in this area…” he said, indicating a spot not far from Elsweyr’s coastline before continuing. “If you were to escape tomorrow morning – you and your little boat – do you think you could make it from here?”
Ra’Jirra smiled for the first time since she’d come aboard.
“If I could escape using my clever khajiit wit and sneaking ability that is well known throughout Hammerfell, I might just be able to make it to my homeland.”
“Tomorrow morning,” he said. “Say, about sunrise?”
“Yes,” she said. “I might try such a thing around sunrise.”
“Good. Your craft might be conveniently located alongside my ship, tied only by a rope.”
“That would be fortuitous for me indeed,” she said, rising.
The captain put the map away and pulled out a bottle and two glasses, and poured a respectable amount into each.
“Ra’Jirra, would you share a drink with me?”
“Certainly Captain. What shall we drink to?”
“First, to your friend – Wears-Only-Ropes.”
Ra’Jirra raised the glass along with the Captain and downed it. Both glasses hit the table simultaneously.
“Next – to you, Ra’Jirra. I saw you out there. You ran nearly as great a risk as your friend. Don’t gainsay me this. Without you, this ship would be at the bottom of the ocean with all hands I have little doubt.”
Ra’Jirra didn’t argue. They downed the drink together. Already Ra’Jirra was feeling a bit light-headed, but she wasn’t worried. Whatever her fate here, she trusted this man’s honor.
“And last?” Ra’Jirra asked as the Captain refilled them once more as tradition dictated.
“Why don’t you make this one?” he suggested.
Ra’Jirra thought of what the altmer had shown her. She had not told anyone about that. She wasn’t sure if she ever would.
“To the future. A future where the races can live together. As peaceably as may be at least.”
“That’s a toast any sailor can drink to, khajiit. On the land, there is distrust – if not outright hate – between the races. But out here on the ocean, when it’s only you and your crewmates to depend on, races don’t really matter so much. Each race has its own merits and abilities. No matter how different, no matter how odd, we know that it is what lies within that matters most. To the future!”
The glasses hit the tabletop and the Captain put them away, then stepped to a wardrobe and removed a female officer’s outfit.
“We keep a few on reserve. I think this may fit you, save for the tail.”
“Why, that’s very kind of you! If you’ll excuse me,”
She removed the jacket and the tattered remains of her bikini top, and stepped into the clean, starched uniform, taking just a moment to alter it for a tail hole without tearing it too badly.
“Okay, you can turn back around now,” she said when she’d got it buttoned up. “How do I look?”
“A dashing figure of an Hammerfell officer if ever I saw one. Save for the tail and the ears anyway. I’m guessing you’re not interested in the cap.”
She laughed. “No, I think not. May I assume I’m free to roam the ship?”
“You are. And you’re welcome to retire here to my quarters if you wish. I’ll stay with the first mate tonight.”
“You honor me yet again. But there is no need. I’d really like to stay with your crew tonight if that’s alright with you.”
The Captain nodded and stepped to the door, opening it for her.
She stepped out to another cheer from the crew. She spent the night with them, and was pleased to find that the argonians and the native Hammerfell humans were not segregated. She stayed up late into the night, exchanging ribald stories with the sailors and drinking a bit more than she probably should, considering she had an escape to execute in the morning. In point of fact, the Captain himself roused her to remind her at daybreak.
Ra’Jirra and Wears-Only-Ropes raced towards the oncoming water-arrow at breakneck speed. Wears-Only-Ropes did a quick mental guess and set the timer for 5 seconds. Meanwhile Ra’Jirra struggled to keep the craft on-course against the waves that kept crashing into them. Then she felt the tap at her shoulder and pulled the lever, turning out of the path of the arrow a split second later but continuing at full speed away. The arrow passed directly beneath them in a flash. She didn’t turn around, but heard the explosion go off behind her.
She held tight to the controls and felt the CAT go airborne, but she hung on and she felt the strong hands of Wears-Only-Ropes manage to keep wrapped around her as they hit the waves hard upon their return. Only then did she slow and turn back.
“Good job, Ropes,” she said, breathing hard. “But we’ve only one more mine, and we can’t waste it on another arrow.”
“I know, Raj. And I know what I have to do. You don’t need to tell me. If I hold the timer, will it stop, or does launching the mine start the timer where it’s set?”
“I don’t know, Ropes. I really don’t.”
“Well, we’ve not much choice, I guess. I’ll set it for 60 seconds, you launch it, then I’ll dive in after it. But damned if I know where that goddamn ship is. It’s dark under there Raj. I may not find it at all.”
Ra’Jirra looked back towards where the two water-arrows had come from and headed back that way.
“Why haven’t they launched another one already?”
“When I was in the ship, there were two big tubes. My guess is it takes them a while to reset for another shot. I’ve no idea how long, but Ropes, there are lots of arrows inside there.”
The argonian nodded.
“When I’m off, you get the hell out of here. If this works, there’s going to be an explosion like nothing any of us have ever seen, Raj.”
Ra’Jirra slowed the CAT to a halt, guesstimating she was roughly over where the Dominion might be. Then she hugged Wears-Only-Ropes.
“If I…” she started, but the argonian just hugged her back then drew her away by the shoulders.
“You couldn’t get close, Ra’Jirra. No, this is what I’m here for. I knew it when I followed you.”
“I’ll tell them about you, Ropes. You won’t be forgotten.”
Argonian’s didn’t exactly cry, but Ra’Jirra saw the nictitating membranes flashing.
“Do that, Ra’Jirra. And tell them about my crew. I was just one of them. They all would have done this.”
Ra’Jirra hugged her once more. “You are their avenging angel, Ropes. Good luck!”
Wears-Only-Ropes pulled away from her again and pulled the last mine out, setting the timer for the 60 second maximum, then put it back on the rack.
“Wait!” Ra’Jirra said when she turned back around. “Do you see that?”
Wears-Only-Ropes followed where she was pointing. Some hundreds of yards away, something glinted with the distinctive color of Dwemer metal.
They looked at each other.
“That’s it,” Wears-Only-Ropes declared. “The Dominion must be under there.”
“Hold on!” Ra’Jirra said, and spun the craft to face the shining object sitting stationary above the waves.
“Don’t forget what I said, Raj. You get the hell away!” Wears-Only-Ropes called over her shoulder.
“I will, Ropes. You go take care of that thing.”
A minute later and Ra’Jirra shouted back. “Ready?”
“Ready!”
Ra’Jirra slowed to a stop and pulled the lever. She heard the mine splash behind her, now armed. Wears-Only-Ropes followed it. She saw the argonian grab the mine and begin swimming deep. Then she hit the throttle and began flying away from the spot, aiming roughly for where the Hammerfell ship was sailing away at full speed.
***************************
Underwater, Wears-Only-Ropes saw the thin tube of Dwemer metal going straight down into the depths. It would take her more than a minute to reach the Dominion, and she sincerely hoped the timer wasn’t running as she held the dial at the 1 minute mark. If it was running internally, she’d never know it. She would be blown to bits when it went off. She could only trust in luck there.
As she continued downwards, she slowly saw the huge shape of the Dominion looming out of the depths below. It could be nothing else. She stuffed the mine into her pants and redoubled her efforts, fighting against her natural buoyancy. She was just getting close when she saw another figure coming around from the bottom of the ship. It was another argonian, and she recognized him as the big guard. In his mouth, he held a wicked looking knife and he was coming fast.
But she couldn’t simply swim away. She might well be faster through the water than him, but the Dominion might well get under way at any moment. Instead, she turned to face him.
Fighting underwater, even for argonians, was a hard business. All movements were terribly slow compared to in the open air. But she was both a sailor and an argonian. It wasn’t her first time. She avoided his attempts to cut her with the knife, but soon it was clear she was getting nowhere, and time was not her friend here.
Then he closed on her, wrapping an arm around her neck. She saw the hand with the knife descend and grabbed it, turning it towards her mouth where she bit the arm, hard. Very hard. She felt bones crunch between her teeth and she wrenched at it with the strength of an alligator, rolling in the deep.
She heard another noise then. Not the screaming of her assailant, though that reached her clearly enough. No, this was coming from the Dominion. She kicked the maimed argonian away from her and saw the hand, severed now, fall into the depths below along with the knife. Then she turned back to the ship. She saw a port sliding slowly open in the nose of the thing, and recognized that it must be the aperture of one of the arrow-tubes. They were going to launch another any moment.
Suddenly she had an inspiration. She might not have the time, but it was the best chance she had. Rapidly she untied the ropes around her chest and swam up to catch the argonian who was trying to escape to the surface. She wrapped the rope around him rapidly, and trussed him tightly, hauling him back to the Dominion all the while.
The arrow hadn’t launched yet. She manhandled the argonian, forcing him into the tube and rapidly tying the ropes around the portal’s edge, trapping him within. Then she pulled the mine out of her pants and checked the timer. It had only a few seconds left, so she cranked it back to 60 seconds, then thrust it deep down into the argonian’s own pants, knowing he was tied far too well to get it out in time.
“Goodbye, Pak-Sha,” she said, waving before she swam away as fast as she could, upwards and back away from the nose of the ship. She knew any hope of survival was pointless at this range, but she couldn’t help but hope. Still, she felt okay. She’d done her job. In a few seconds it would be over anyway, and she wanted to at least be sure the bulk of the Dominion was between her and the mine when it went off.
In fact, the mine alone would still not have breached the hull of the Dominion, even if placed directly on it. But the torpedo tube was a weak point when it’s hatch was open as it was now. Even then, the Dominion may have survived had it not been for the armed torpedo that was awaiting launch inside it.
But the combination made the outcome inevitable. The mine went off. In milliseconds, its explosion caused the destruction of the armed torpedo within the tube. In turn, the torpedo’s explosive power was well beyond the small mine. The nose of the Dominion expanded outwards under the incredible power of the torpedo. But even that was dwarfed when the other torpedoes held within the ship joined the explosion. And all this happened within a single second. Not a single soul aboard the Dominion even had time to register alarm. Only Number 4 had any clue they were in any danger, and he was blind, unable to see what was happening just outside the ship. His periscope only viewed the surface above the water. His last seconds were spent watching the naked rear of that damned khajiit, speeding away at top speed, her tail waving in the wind. And then all within were snuffed out before a single nerve could register the explosion.
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