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Description
Chavez

During his time with the Sixth Navy, Sergeant Karate Chavez had formulated his own personal recipe for getting ahead. It involved doing as little as possible while at the same time kissing as much ass as possible.

Certainly doing things well could get someone noticed. It could also result in a fuck up. Doing as little as possible reduced the chance of a fuck up. Chavez was patient, and he was committed to advancing through the ranks at a glacial pace by doing as little as possible and not fucking up.

The second part of the Chavez recipe for success involved kissing ass. Chavez could kiss ass like he had a pair of bionic lips. Kissing ass didn't take much effort so it did not deviate from his philosophy of doing as little as possible.

That's why Chavez wasn't surprised when he found out someone had given them a free upgrade to premium massages. Premium massages were normally reserved for the tourists. With a premium massage Chavez and Long were now assigned a chubilicious Corporate World chick and a sexed up Aurellian barbie doll as their masseuses.

"She's a brick.... House!" Chavez sang to himself as he rode the elevator down to the boot barracks.

"She's mighty mighty, just letting it all hang out!"

Chavez would take the Corporate World chick and he would give the Aurellian to the boot. The boot would be happy. The boot had the backwards tastes typical of a primitive from a back water planet. If the boot wasn't happy with the Aurellian, well it was just too bad. As Corporate Worlds evolved appreciation grew for bigger women. A big women signified a sophisticated luxurious lifestyle, with easy access to excess food and drink.

To anyone who had spent any amount of time in Corporate Worlds system, a two hundred and fifty pound woman was considered light. Someone like Captain Zink would be considered athletic, her duties precluding her from plumping up properly. Zink was probably about twenty pounds under her sex tape days. It took a lot of calories to keep up that bulk. But even though Zink was on the light side for a Corporate Worlds chunkster Chavez considered her to be the hottest woman on the ship.

Chavez entered the barracks area and saw the boot was pumped up and ready to go. He had on his uniform and combat boots.

"We are going for a massage, dude. Why are you dressed like we are going to battle?"

Chavez was wearing a bathrobe, a pair of boxers, and flip flops. The robe was too small for him and his swollen brown belly protruded between the flaps of the robe and hung over the waistband of his boxers.

"Today's your lucky day. I was able to snag us each a premium massage. You are going to get a massage from a genuine Aurellian, bro. I'll take the fatty. You owe me one."

Chavez was happy taking the credit for the massage upgrade. It didn't hurt to curry favor with the boot. The boot was the gung ho type that would rise rapidly through the ranks. Unless the boot was dead within a week. Death was by far the more likely scenario but Chavez liked to hedge his bets.

"So when do we train?"

Chavez laughed. "Training is expensive, and the Captain doesn't like to waste a lot of money doing it. She schedules our training to double as a dinner show for the Tourists. We train on Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday evenings and do a special 2 p.m. Matinee on Wednesdays.

"That sounds kind of... unusual."

"Yeah I know it sucks that we have to work on the weekend. I tried my best to get out of the Sunday deal but hey the tourists need their entertainment."

"It's all about the tourists, isn't it?"

Chavez grinned and slapped the boot on the shoulder. "You are finally starting to catch on!"

Long

When Carson entered the room the masseuse was fixing the bed and had her back turned to him. He recognized the long shapely legs and flowing brown hair.

"Jupiter?"

The brunette turned and although her resemblance to Jupiter was uncanny when he saw her face Carson could see he was mistaken.

"Hi I'm Asterisk." She held out her hand in greeting and Carson nervously shook it, pumping it like he was running for office.

"Sorry, you remind me of someone else," he stuttered.

It was the hair more than anything. The brunette wig the Aurellian was sporting looked exactly like Jupiter's hair, almost as if the Aurellian had somehow stolen Jupiter's hair during the night.

"Please lay down."

Carson lay down face first on the massage table. He could no longer see Asterisk but it did little to quell his arousal, and as she massaged his arm it only made him more excited. By canting his head he could see her calf, which was perfectly smooth and hairless.

Carson wondered what Jupiter's calves looked like.

He could not take his mind off of Jupiter. He was getting a massage from a woman who was arguably ever bit as beautiful as his squad mate, yet it was not the same.

"You have a great body," she purred as she worked his forearm and manipulated his fingers, stretching them and rubbing with her thumbs.

"Thank you," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the padding on the face cradle. Although he yearned for Jupiter it had been over two years since he had been with a woman and Asterisk seemed like a more receptive target.

"I've never given a massage to an Earthling before."

"And I've never gotten a massage from an..."

"Aurellian," she chimed in. "Do you know anything about Aurellians?"

"I heard Lieutenant Glass is one."

"She hardly qualifies," Asterisk laughed sharply. She finished with his right arm and moved to his left, rubbing lotion into it.

"Sure she looks the part, but she's an ice queen. Aurellians were bred for sex."

While Carson more or less had heard Chavez explain this, it was different hearing it from an actual Aurellian. An Aurellian that was massaging him. An Aurellian that looked like Jupiter Moon.

"Mmmmmhhhhmmm," Carson grunted. Asterisk moved to his leg, pulling aside the sheet.

"So what's your opinion on sex?"

"Ummm... Definitely for it."

"I bet you wouldn't last a minute with me."

Asterisk rubbed his hamstring as Carson considered that sentence. Was that some type of a challenge, and if so, was it an invitation?

As he laid on the bed Asterisk's hand slid underneath his pelvis and grabbed his rod. Any doubt that he had of her intentions instantly vanished.

Carson tried to push the thought of Jupiter Moon out of his mind. She wasn't his girlfriend, and after their last meeting she had stormed off. He had no reason to feel guilty for being with Asterisk.

Carson rolled over and Asterisk draped herself on top of him, her boobs pressing against his chest.

His lips met her soft lips, and he eagerly sought out her tongue. He had been with his fair share of women on Earth, but never one like Asterisk. She was literally from another galaxy.

As Asterisk's nimble body writhed on top of him he reflexively grabbed the back of Asterisk's head. His fingers tangled in the soft brunette curls of Asterisk's wig, the wig that looked so much like Jupiter's hair.

Asterisk pulled upwards, intending to straddle him. Her top had come off in the foreplay, exposing her magnificent breasts. But Carson's fingers were entangled in her hair, and as she rose upwards he accidentally dragged her wig right off of her bald head.

Asterisk froze momentarily, her scalp pale and hairless, as she stared down at her wig in disbelief.

Her fist connected with his cheekbone.

"What the hell!" she wailed, as she jumped off the table, her hand darting out to grab her wig. She bent down with her back to him, and hid her head as she frantically pawed her wig into place.

When Asterisk finally turned back around her brunette hairpiece was back on her head but it was crooked. Under different circumstances it would have been funny, but Carson knew better than to laugh. His head already hurt from the sucker punch.

"Get out! Just get out now!" she screamed at him.

Carson lifted his hand towards Asterisk's hairpiece, intending to straighten it. "Your wig is still a little crooked - "

She slapped his hand away. "Just get out! You've done enough!"

Carson bowed his head and meekly walked to the door.

Asterisk was right after all. He hadn't lasted a minute.

Chavez

Chavez walked out into the lobby clad in a towel and flip flops. The massage was the best of his life. The Corporate Worlds porker was a real beauty. Karate estimated that she weight a healthy two seventy, and even at that weight her tits had seemed improbably big. It was not just any boob job, it was a Corporate Worlds mega boob job.

The boot was sitting in the lobby, a sour expression on his face. Karate was surprised. The boot seemed ga ga over Aurellians. The boot had stared at Lieutenant Glass and Jupiter as if they were thick ribeye steaks and he was a starving wolf.

"So how was the massage?"

"Well... It could have went better."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I accidentally pulled off her wig and she kind of freaked out. She was completely bald without it."

"No shit! You never pull off an Aurellian's wig. They go freaking bananas! Have you ever heard the expression flip your wig?

Carson nodded.

"That's where that expression comes from! You're lucky. Hell if you pulled off Lieutenant Glass' wig you'd be in the morgue right now."

"What about Jupiter?"

"What about her."

"Is she an Aurellian?"

"She would kill me for telling you this, but yeah she's an Aurellian. All that fancy brunette hair of hers is a wig. I know you have a thing for her, but whatever you do, be careful around her hair."

Karate's opinion of the boot was diminishing with each passing moment. The boot had managed to find the only way to anger a sex-crazed Aurellian.

"So why are you so curious about Jupiter?"

"Just wondering."

"I love Jupiter like a sister, so be careful around her boot. You do her wrong and I'll kick your ass."

Glass

There was a full crowd in the arena. The Lieutenant scanned the tiered seating filled with Space Tourists. She focused on a married couple and their three kids. The kids were enthusiastically devouring their overpriced meal of "authentic" space food, consisting of such items as freeze dried ice cream and a disgusting drink made from orange flavored powder. The meal was probably as authentic as the blonde hair on the Lieutenant's head and no less expensive.

Clarissa's custom made hairpiece was secured to her smooth scalp with medical grade adhesive. Clarissa wasn't going to endure the same fate as Asterisk. She would deal with the Asterisk situation later. She was convinced the relationship between the Earthling and Asterisk could be salvaged, but first she needed to get through the evening's training.

Training wasn't designed to be realistic, rather it was designed for maximum spectating pleasure. Cameras dotted the arena at strategic locations and the event would be streamed live via Zink's pay per view channel for those who could not afford tickets.

Glass nervously fingered the safety of her laser rifle and touched her index finger to the communications earpiece which was partially concealed underneath her blonde wig. She would use the earpiece to control her squad during the battle. It was a lone survivor mission, her specialty, but if she was going to collect the lone survivor bonus she would need some cooperation from her team.

Fourth squad would accompany her tonight. That was the Captain's decision. Zink was eager to show off her new Earthling like he was a prize poodle that she had entered in a dog show. Glass would have preferred a different squad. Chavez was one of the sorriest soldiers in the platoon and the inexperienced boot would be a liability to the team. If Clarissa was going to collect the lone survivor bonus it would take all of her cunning and skill.

The rumor was that Fourth was facing a Trade Federation heavy squad led by the charismatic Jordan Shultz. The Platinum Princess had docked with a Trade Federation ship earlier in the day, which meant that they would be facing mercenaries. The heavies were known for their menacing battle armor which granted them brute power, but they were lacking in both endurance and speed.

Glass had developed her own cult following, cultivated as much by her devastatingly attractive appearance as her ruthless combat prowess. Clarissa's Kevlar battle armor was customized to expose her cleavage and left her midriff bare and unprotected. She didn't wear a helmet in order to better display her photogenic face and audacious blonde mane.

Clarissa peered through her dark sunglasses as the LED clock counted down towards to zero. The sunglasses were not solely for image. They provided enhanced thermal vision which would be particularly useful if her foes had power suits as expected. People could say a lot of things about Lieutenant Clarissa Glass, but they could never say she wasn't prepared.

When the LED hit zero entrance music was piped through the arena. By convention the visiting team was announced first. It was Sir Mix-a-Lot's Baby's Got Back. So it was Shultzy after all. Clarissa had a sour smile on her face as she waited while Jordan was introduced. Then she glanced over at Chavez, Long, and Moon. She was fucked.

Finally it was time for the home team announcement, and a recording of Blondie's raspy voice powered from the stadium speakers, belting out her famous hit Heart of Glass.

Once I had a love and it was a gas
Soon turned out had a heart of glass
Seemed like a real thing, only to find
Much of mistrust, love's gone behind

LET'S HEAR IT FOR FOURTH SQUAD LED BY THE ANGEL OF DEATH - MARINE LIEUTENANT CLARISSA GLASS!

There was a pause as the crowd applauded, and then the announcer added

ACCOMPANIED BY EARTHLING CARSON LONG!!!

Clarissa frowned. Squad members were never introduced, much less boots. She cut to comm channel six and hissed:

What the Hell is that about Captain?

Keep your wig on Clarissa. The crowd loves it.

Clarissa sputtered as the Captain cut the frequency. The Space Tourists were going wild at the mention of the Earthling, which only made her more angry.

Zink

At the bridge of the Platinum Princess Myra's two hundred sixty pound bulk shifted in her chair as she barked orders from her bee stung lips. Even this mild activity left her breathing hard. But she had to push through. There was a pay-per-view to produce.

The wig comment had shut Lieutenant Glass up but it had made her mad. Ten seconds into the competition she shot Chavez. It was a risky move as it left her one down but it got rid of her weakest link. Zink had to admit that Glass looked as beautiful as ever, with her dark sunglasses and form fitting armor. Lieutenant Glass posters and assorted merchandise were perennial best sellers.

Getting Shultz for the battle was a coup. Jordan enjoyed huge cross-over popularity with Corporate Worlds despite working for the Trade Federation, and at only twenty three she was a rising star. Negotiations were difficult as Jordan felt training in this environment was bad theater and beneath her, but in the end she took the money.

They all did.

The Trade Federation were doing well. They looked good and had quickly taken out Toolbag and Roach, leaving Glass' squad with only three remaining. The heavy armor seemed as if it were made for TV, as the brightly colored suits were dramatic against the faux jungle backdrop. Zink had convinced Shultz to eschew the armor in order to show off her huge tits and thick thighs that the viewing audience loved so much. Jordan had registered the only two legitimate kills, but without the help of her power suit Jordan was starting to lag behind her squad.

Outnumbered two to one things weren't looking good for Lieutenant Glass, but Zink knew better than to counter her out. Glass relished the role of the underdog. With only three left she would be forced to deploy the Earthling in a productive manner. So far the boot had only managed to follow Corporal Moon around like a lovesick puppy dog.

Long

Carson huddled at the top of the hill with Jupiter. For some reason Jupiter was wearing a different wig, but after the incident with Asterisk he didn't dare mention it. Even though Jupiter was still mad at him he enjoyed being with her. Even lying in the dirt cradling a battle rifle he had a hard on for her.

They had rapidly lost three squad mates, and the Lieutenant had set them to the hill to provide overwatch. From their vantage point they had watched Lieutenant Glass go to work with the deadly efficiency of an executioner, moving through the battlefield at a speed that the Trade Federation heavies simply couldn't match.

Using flanking maneuvers Glass had taken out five trade federation troops with five shots. Only Jordan Shultz remained. Jupiter held the binoculars to her face, brushing the brown wig hair out of her eyes.

"Glass is over there, low crawling behind the ridge."

Carson spotted the Lieutenant. She was trying to flush out Shultz, who had smartly assumed a defensive stance. The concept of a defensive stance seemed foreign to the Lieutenant. He had assumed the stories about her were bull, but seeing her skill first hand he was now a believer.

"Take the shot," Jupiter whispered.

"Where is Jordan? I don't see her."

"That's not what I'm talking about. Take the shot. What do you think Glass is going to do to us after she drills Shultz?"

The Lieutenant was already angry with him, so shooting her in the back seemed like a horrible idea. But Jupiter had a point. After all, Glass had shot Karate ten seconds into the competition.

Carson cradled the laser rifle to his cheek, controlling his breathing like he had been taught in Galactic Ranger training. He aimed the sights directly at the Lieutenant's blonde wig.

"Die bitch..." Carson muttered, and took a deep breath inwards. Then he breathed out and gently squeezed the trigger.

Zink

There were an unwritten rules about that sort of thing.

Shooting Chavez was frowned upon, but acceptable. In a lone survivor match the ranking officer could shoot a friendly under any circumstance with no explanation required.

However during a lone survivor match a team also had the possibility of completely eliminating the enemy team, leaving multiple survivors on one team. Proper protocol dictated that the lower ranking soldiers commit Hari Kari. Insert laser rifle in mouth, pull trigger.

Shooting a friendly officer, in particular while enemy was still in play, was unheard of.

Zink saw the action unfold with disbelief. The boot lined up the shot. Zink tried to warn the Lieutenant.

"Clarissa look out..."

But it was too late. The boot squeezed the trigger and she was gone.

"Did that really just happen?" Zink said out loud.

It was chaos.

It took a moment for the Lieutenant to realize she had been shot, and then for her to realize exactly who had shot her.

"I'm going to kill him!"

Protocol also dictated for a soldier to play dead after they were shot. It didn't make for a realistic production to have a soldier stomp around throwing a hissy fit when they were killed.

But Lieutenant Glass was having none of that.

She hurled her deactivated laser rifle to the ground and slammed her fist into the nearest tree.

"Damn it!" she wailed, shaking her hand in pain.

"Stand down Glass," Zink calmly replied. "You're finished."

"I'll tell you whose finished," Glass replied. "The boot!"

Zink didn't blame the Earthling. He didn't know any better. But Corporal Moon certainly did.

"Clarissa I am telling you to stand down. That is an order, and as a friend I am begging you to comply."

"Captain look at camera six..."

Zink glanced at the bank of monitors. Camera six was a panoramic view of the audience, the space tourists who filled the arena.

They were going crazy. A chant started, rolling through the crowd like a wave.

"Earth-ling! Earth-ling! Earth-ling!"

Zink spotted a girl in the crowd, maybe twelve or thirteen, dressed in full Glass fan regalia. The girl sported the Lieutenant Glass souvenir wig, sunglasses, and an I love Lieutenant Glass t-shirt. The girl was on her feet, chanting right along with the other tourists.

"Earth-ling! Earth-ling! Earth-ling!"

In the pandemonium Jordan Shultz had snuck around behind the boot and Jupiter, easily eliminating them both. Shultz was the lone survivor, but it hardly seemed to register.

"Earth-ling! Earth-ling! Earth-ling!"

Long

Carson had mixed feelings about shooting the Lieutenant. It had been an excellent shot, as Lieutenant Glass was crawling through cover nearly 600 yards away, yet he felt like it was a cheap thing to do. The Lieutenant shot Chavez, but due to her performance on the battlefield she deserved a better fate. Lieutenant Glass was descended from a race that was bred for sex but her actions showed she was every bit as adept at combat.

When the buzzer went off to indicate he'd been hit it barely registered with him. Jupiter was lying beside him, head propped on her arm, looking at him. It was then he noticed the crowd chanting.

"Earth-ling! Earth-ling! Earth-ling!"

Jupiter's buzzer was going off as well. She was dead. The battle was over and Jordan Shultz had won.

Jupiter laid her head on her arm, playing dead per proper protocol. But as she looked at him her eyes twinkled and she mouthed the words Earth-ling! Earth-ling! in synch with the crowd.

Description
Chavez

During his time with the Sixth Navy, Sergeant Karate Chavez had formulated his own personal recipe for getting ahead. It involved doing as little as possible while at the same time kissing as much ass as possible.

Certainly doing things well could get someone noticed. It could also result in a fuck up. Doing as little as possible reduced the chance of a fuck up. Chavez was patient, and he was committed to advancing through the ranks at a glacial pace by doing as little as possible and not fucking up.

The second part of the Chavez recipe for success involved kissing ass. Chavez could kiss ass like he had a pair of bionic lips. Kissing ass didn't take much effort so it did not deviate from his philosophy of doing as little as possible.

That's why Chavez wasn't surprised when he found out someone had given them a free upgrade to premium massages. Premium massages were normally reserved for the tourists. With a premium massage Chavez and Long were now assigned a chubilicious Corporate World chick and a sexed up Aurellian barbie doll as their masseuses.

"She's a brick.... House!" Chavez sang to himself as he rode the elevator down to the boot barracks.

"She's mighty mighty, just letting it all hang out!"

Chavez would take the Corporate World chick and he would give the Aurellian to the boot. The boot would be happy. The boot had the backwards tastes typical of a primitive from a back water planet. If the boot wasn't happy with the Aurellian, well it was just too bad. As Corporate Worlds evolved appreciation grew for bigger women. A big women signified a sophisticated luxurious lifestyle, with easy access to excess food and drink.

To anyone who had spent any amount of time in Corporate Worlds system, a two hundred and fifty pound woman was considered light. Someone like Captain Zink would be considered athletic, her duties precluding her from plumping up properly. Zink was probably about twenty pounds under her sex tape days. It took a lot of calories to keep up that bulk. But even though Zink was on the light side for a Corporate Worlds chunkster Chavez considered her to be the hottest woman on the ship.

Chavez entered the barracks area and saw the boot was pumped up and ready to go. He had on his uniform and combat boots.

"We are going for a massage, dude. Why are you dressed like we are going to battle?"

Chavez was wearing a bathrobe, a pair of boxers, and flip flops. The robe was too small for him and his swollen brown belly protruded between the flaps of the robe and hung over the waistband of his boxers.

"Today's your lucky day. I was able to snag us each a premium massage. You are going to get a massage from a genuine Aurellian, bro. I'll take the fatty. You owe me one."

Chavez was happy taking the credit for the massage upgrade. It didn't hurt to curry favor with the boot. The boot was the gung ho type that would rise rapidly through the ranks. Unless the boot was dead within a week. Death was by far the more likely scenario but Chavez liked to hedge his bets.

"So when do we train?"

Chavez laughed. "Training is expensive, and the Captain doesn't like to waste a lot of money doing it. She schedules our training to double as a dinner show for the Tourists. We train on Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday evenings and do a special 2 p.m. Matinee on Wednesdays.

"That sounds kind of... unusual."

"Yeah I know it sucks that we have to work on the weekend. I tried my best to get out of the Sunday deal but hey the tourists need their entertainment."

"It's all about the tourists, isn't it?"

Chavez grinned and slapped the boot on the shoulder. "You are finally starting to catch on!"

Long

When Carson entered the room the masseuse was fixing the bed and had her back turned to him. He recognized the long shapely legs and flowing brown hair.

"Jupiter?"

The brunette turned and although her resemblance to Jupiter was uncanny when he saw her face Carson could see he was mistaken.

"Hi I'm Asterisk." She held out her hand in greeting and Carson nervously shook it, pumping it like he was running for office.

"Sorry, you remind me of someone else," he stuttered.

It was the hair more than anything. The brunette wig the Aurellian was sporting looked exactly like Jupiter's hair, almost as if the Aurellian had somehow stolen Jupiter's hair during the night.

"Please lay down."

Carson lay down face first on the massage table. He could no longer see Asterisk but it did little to quell his arousal, and as she massaged his arm it only made him more excited. By canting his head he could see her calf, which was perfectly smooth and hairless.

Carson wondered what Jupiter's calves looked like.

He could not take his mind off of Jupiter. He was getting a massage from a woman who was arguably ever bit as beautiful as his squad mate, yet it was not the same.

"You have a great body," she purred as she worked his forearm and manipulated his fingers, stretching them and rubbing with her thumbs.

"Thank you," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the padding on the face cradle. Although he yearned for Jupiter it had been over two years since he had been with a woman and Asterisk seemed like a more receptive target.

"I've never given a massage to an Earthling before."

"And I've never gotten a massage from an..."

"Aurellian," she chimed in. "Do you know anything about Aurellians?"

"I heard Lieutenant Glass is one."

"She hardly qualifies," Asterisk laughed sharply. She finished with his right arm and moved to his left, rubbing lotion into it.

"Sure she looks the part, but she's an ice queen. Aurellians were bred for sex."

While Carson more or less had heard Chavez explain this, it was different hearing it from an actual Aurellian. An Aurellian that was massaging him. An Aurellian that looked like Jupiter Moon.

"Mmmmmhhhhmmm," Carson grunted. Asterisk moved to his leg, pulling aside the sheet.

"So what's your opinion on sex?"

"Ummm... Definitely for it."

"I bet you wouldn't last a minute with me."

Asterisk rubbed his hamstring as Carson considered that sentence. Was that some type of a challenge, and if so, was it an invitation?

As he laid on the bed Asterisk's hand slid underneath his pelvis and grabbed his rod. Any doubt that he had of her intentions instantly vanished.

Carson tried to push the thought of Jupiter Moon out of his mind. She wasn't his girlfriend, and after their last meeting she had stormed off. He had no reason to feel guilty for being with Asterisk.

Carson rolled over and Asterisk draped herself on top of him, her boobs pressing against his chest.

His lips met her soft lips, and he eagerly sought out her tongue. He had been with his fair share of women on Earth, but never one like Asterisk. She was literally from another galaxy.

As Asterisk's nimble body writhed on top of him he reflexively grabbed the back of Asterisk's head. His fingers tangled in the soft brunette curls of Asterisk's wig, the wig that looked so much like Jupiter's hair.

Asterisk pulled upwards, intending to straddle him. Her top had come off in the foreplay, exposing her magnificent breasts. But Carson's fingers were entangled in her hair, and as she rose upwards he accidentally dragged her wig right off of her bald head.

Asterisk froze momentarily, her scalp pale and hairless, as she stared down at her wig in disbelief.

Her fist connected with his cheekbone.

"What the hell!" she wailed, as she jumped off the table, her hand darting out to grab her wig. She bent down with her back to him, and hid her head as she frantically pawed her wig into place.

When Asterisk finally turned back around her brunette hairpiece was back on her head but it was crooked. Under different circumstances it would have been funny, but Carson knew better than to laugh. His head already hurt from the sucker punch.

"Get out! Just get out now!" she screamed at him.

Carson lifted his hand towards Asterisk's hairpiece, intending to straighten it. "Your wig is still a little crooked - "

She slapped his hand away. "Just get out! You've done enough!"

Carson bowed his head and meekly walked to the door.

Asterisk was right after all. He hadn't lasted a minute.

Chavez

Chavez walked out into the lobby clad in a towel and flip flops. The massage was the best of his life. The Corporate Worlds porker was a real beauty. Karate estimated that she weight a healthy two seventy, and even at that weight her tits had seemed improbably big. It was not just any boob job, it was a Corporate Worlds mega boob job.

The boot was sitting in the lobby, a sour expression on his face. Karate was surprised. The boot seemed ga ga over Aurellians. The boot had stared at Lieutenant Glass and Jupiter as if they were thick ribeye steaks and he was a starving wolf.

"So how was the massage?"

"Well... It could have went better."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I accidentally pulled off her wig and she kind of freaked out. She was completely bald without it."

"No shit! You never pull off an Aurellian's wig. They go freaking bananas! Have you ever heard the expression flip your wig?

Carson nodded.

"That's where that expression comes from! You're lucky. Hell if you pulled off Lieutenant Glass' wig you'd be in the morgue right now."

"What about Jupiter?"

"What about her."

"Is she an Aurellian?"

"She would kill me for telling you this, but yeah she's an Aurellian. All that fancy brunette hair of hers is a wig. I know you have a thing for her, but whatever you do, be careful around her hair."

Karate's opinion of the boot was diminishing with each passing moment. The boot had managed to find the only way to anger a sex-crazed Aurellian.

"So why are you so curious about Jupiter?"

"Just wondering."

"I love Jupiter like a sister, so be careful around her boot. You do her wrong and I'll kick your ass."

Glass

There was a full crowd in the arena. The Lieutenant scanned the tiered seating filled with Space Tourists. She focused on a married couple and their three kids. The kids were enthusiastically devouring their overpriced meal of "authentic" space food, consisting of such items as freeze dried ice cream and a disgusting drink made from orange flavored powder. The meal was probably as authentic as the blonde hair on the Lieutenant's head and no less expensive.

Clarissa's custom made hairpiece was secured to her smooth scalp with medical grade adhesive. Clarissa wasn't going to endure the same fate as Asterisk. She would deal with the Asterisk situation later. She was convinced the relationship between the Earthling and Asterisk could be salvaged, but first she needed to get through the evening's training.

Training wasn't designed to be realistic, rather it was designed for maximum spectating pleasure. Cameras dotted the arena at strategic locations and the event would be streamed live via Zink's pay per view channel for those who could not afford tickets.

Glass nervously fingered the safety of her laser rifle and touched her index finger to the communications earpiece which was partially concealed underneath her blonde wig. She would use the earpiece to control her squad during the battle. It was a lone survivor mission, her specialty, but if she was going to collect the lone survivor bonus she would need some cooperation from her team.

Fourth squad would accompany her tonight. That was the Captain's decision. Zink was eager to show off her new Earthling like he was a prize poodle that she had entered in a dog show. Glass would have preferred a different squad. Chavez was one of the sorriest soldiers in the platoon and the inexperienced boot would be a liability to the team. If Clarissa was going to collect the lone survivor bonus it would take all of her cunning and skill.

The rumor was that Fourth was facing a Trade Federation heavy squad led by the charismatic Jordan Shultz. The Platinum Princess had docked with a Trade Federation ship earlier in the day, which meant that they would be facing mercenaries. The heavies were known for their menacing battle armor which granted them brute power, but they were lacking in both endurance and speed.

Glass had developed her own cult following, cultivated as much by her devastatingly attractive appearance as her ruthless combat prowess. Clarissa's Kevlar battle armor was customized to expose her cleavage and left her midriff bare and unprotected. She didn't wear a helmet in order to better display her photogenic face and audacious blonde mane.

Clarissa peered through her dark sunglasses as the LED clock counted down towards to zero. The sunglasses were not solely for image. They provided enhanced thermal vision which would be particularly useful if her foes had power suits as expected. People could say a lot of things about Lieutenant Clarissa Glass, but they could never say she wasn't prepared.

When the LED hit zero entrance music was piped through the arena. By convention the visiting team was announced first. It was Sir Mix-a-Lot's Baby's Got Back. So it was Shultzy after all. Clarissa had a sour smile on her face as she waited while Jordan was introduced. Then she glanced over at Chavez, Long, and Moon. She was fucked.

Finally it was time for the home team announcement, and a recording of Blondie's raspy voice powered from the stadium speakers, belting out her famous hit Heart of Glass.

Once I had a love and it was a gas
Soon turned out had a heart of glass
Seemed like a real thing, only to find
Much of mistrust, love's gone behind

LET'S HEAR IT FOR FOURTH SQUAD LED BY THE ANGEL OF DEATH - MARINE LIEUTENANT CLARISSA GLASS!

There was a pause as the crowd applauded, and then the announcer added

ACCOMPANIED BY EARTHLING CARSON LONG!!!

Clarissa frowned. Squad members were never introduced, much less boots. She cut to comm channel six and hissed:

What the Hell is that about Captain?

Keep your wig on Clarissa. The crowd loves it.

Clarissa sputtered as the Captain cut the frequency. The Space Tourists were going wild at the mention of the Earthling, which only made her more angry.

Zink

At the bridge of the Platinum Princess Myra's two hundred sixty pound bulk shifted in her chair as she barked orders from her bee stung lips. Even this mild activity left her breathing hard. But she had to push through. There was a pay-per-view to produce.

The wig comment had shut Lieutenant Glass up but it had made her mad. Ten seconds into the competition she shot Chavez. It was a risky move as it left her one down but it got rid of her weakest link. Zink had to admit that Glass looked as beautiful as ever, with her dark sunglasses and form fitting armor. Lieutenant Glass posters and assorted merchandise were perennial best sellers.

Getting Shultz for the battle was a coup. Jordan enjoyed huge cross-over popularity with Corporate Worlds despite working for the Trade Federation, and at only twenty three she was a rising star. Negotiations were difficult as Jordan felt training in this environment was bad theater and beneath her, but in the end she took the money.

They all did.

The Trade Federation were doing well. They looked good and had quickly taken out Toolbag and Roach, leaving Glass' squad with only three remaining. The heavy armor seemed as if it were made for TV, as the brightly colored suits were dramatic against the faux jungle backdrop. Zink had convinced Shultz to eschew the armor in order to show off her huge tits and thick thighs that the viewing audience loved so much. Jordan had registered the only two legitimate kills, but without the help of her power suit Jordan was starting to lag behind her squad.

Outnumbered two to one things weren't looking good for Lieutenant Glass, but Zink knew better than to counter her out. Glass relished the role of the underdog. With only three left she would be forced to deploy the Earthling in a productive manner. So far the boot had only managed to follow Corporal Moon around like a lovesick puppy dog.

Long

Carson huddled at the top of the hill with Jupiter. For some reason Jupiter was wearing a different wig, but after the incident with Asterisk he didn't dare mention it. Even though Jupiter was still mad at him he enjoyed being with her. Even lying in the dirt cradling a battle rifle he had a hard on for her.

They had rapidly lost three squad mates, and the Lieutenant had set them to the hill to provide overwatch. From their vantage point they had watched Lieutenant Glass go to work with the deadly efficiency of an executioner, moving through the battlefield at a speed that the Trade Federation heavies simply couldn't match.

Using flanking maneuvers Glass had taken out five trade federation troops with five shots. Only Jordan Shultz remained. Jupiter held the binoculars to her face, brushing the brown wig hair out of her eyes.

"Glass is over there, low crawling behind the ridge."

Carson spotted the Lieutenant. She was trying to flush out Shultz, who had smartly assumed a defensive stance. The concept of a defensive stance seemed foreign to the Lieutenant. He had assumed the stories about her were bull, but seeing her skill first hand he was now a believer.

"Take the shot," Jupiter whispered.

"Where is Jordan? I don't see her."

"That's not what I'm talking about. Take the shot. What do you think Glass is going to do to us after she drills Shultz?"

The Lieutenant was already angry with him, so shooting her in the back seemed like a horrible idea. But Jupiter had a point. After all, Glass had shot Karate ten seconds into the competition.

Carson cradled the laser rifle to his cheek, controlling his breathing like he had been taught in Galactic Ranger training. He aimed the sights directly at the Lieutenant's blonde wig.

"Die bitch..." Carson muttered, and took a deep breath inwards. Then he breathed out and gently squeezed the trigger.

Zink

There were an unwritten rules about that sort of thing.

Shooting Chavez was frowned upon, but acceptable. In a lone survivor match the ranking officer could shoot a friendly under any circumstance with no explanation required.

However during a lone survivor match a team also had the possibility of completely eliminating the enemy team, leaving multiple survivors on one team. Proper protocol dictated that the lower ranking soldiers commit Hari Kari. Insert laser rifle in mouth, pull trigger.

Shooting a friendly officer, in particular while enemy was still in play, was unheard of.

Zink saw the action unfold with disbelief. The boot lined up the shot. Zink tried to warn the Lieutenant.

"Clarissa look out..."

But it was too late. The boot squeezed the trigger and she was gone.

"Did that really just happen?" Zink said out loud.

It was chaos.

It took a moment for the Lieutenant to realize she had been shot, and then for her to realize exactly who had shot her.

"I'm going to kill him!"

Protocol also dictated for a soldier to play dead after they were shot. It didn't make for a realistic production to have a soldier stomp around throwing a hissy fit when they were killed.

But Lieutenant Glass was having none of that.

She hurled her deactivated laser rifle to the ground and slammed her fist into the nearest tree.

"Damn it!" she wailed, shaking her hand in pain.

"Stand down Glass," Zink calmly replied. "You're finished."

"I'll tell you whose finished," Glass replied. "The boot!"

Zink didn't blame the Earthling. He didn't know any better. But Corporal Moon certainly did.

"Clarissa I am telling you to stand down. That is an order, and as a friend I am begging you to comply."

"Captain look at camera six..."

Zink glanced at the bank of monitors. Camera six was a panoramic view of the audience, the space tourists who filled the arena.

They were going crazy. A chant started, rolling through the crowd like a wave.

"Earth-ling! Earth-ling! Earth-ling!"

Zink spotted a girl in the crowd, maybe twelve or thirteen, dressed in full Glass fan regalia. The girl sported the Lieutenant Glass souvenir wig, sunglasses, and an I love Lieutenant Glass t-shirt. The girl was on her feet, chanting right along with the other tourists.

"Earth-ling! Earth-ling! Earth-ling!"

In the pandemonium Jordan Shultz had snuck around behind the boot and Jupiter, easily eliminating them both. Shultz was the lone survivor, but it hardly seemed to register.

"Earth-ling! Earth-ling! Earth-ling!"

Long

Carson had mixed feelings about shooting the Lieutenant. It had been an excellent shot, as Lieutenant Glass was crawling through cover nearly 600 yards away, yet he felt like it was a cheap thing to do. The Lieutenant shot Chavez, but due to her performance on the battlefield she deserved a better fate. Lieutenant Glass was descended from a race that was bred for sex but her actions showed she was every bit as adept at combat.

When the buzzer went off to indicate he'd been hit it barely registered with him. Jupiter was lying beside him, head propped on her arm, looking at him. It was then he noticed the crowd chanting.

"Earth-ling! Earth-ling! Earth-ling!"

Jupiter's buzzer was going off as well. She was dead. The battle was over and Jordan Shultz had won.

Jupiter laid her head on her arm, playing dead per proper protocol. But as she looked at him her eyes twinkled and she mouthed the words Earth-ling! Earth-ling! in synch with the crowd.