Apara sat on the roof of a building on the edge of the population center the frost had arrived on. In one hand the cooked leg of some kind of local cattle type, in the other a building energy ball swirling with power and glowing with an ominous red haze. An outside observer might take it as a matter of some concern she was considering tossing it into one of the teeming crowds below. The celebrations had been going on for hours now. The scent of cooking meat seemed to fill every corner, alongside whatever other food was perceived as worth bringing to an event like this one. The overly sweet glaze these sentients favored on their food had smeared into something resembling a beard on her face.

It had been a long time since she felt happy outside of the confines of a fight, or the buildup of one. After a moment Apara allowed the energy in her palm to dissipate, blowing away with the wind.

She knew her new battle power wasn't much as far as Saiyans went. Wasn't much as far as a lot of species went, but reading back the numbers her scouter reported always sent a tingle up her spine. She had spent so long under one hundred. There hadn't been anything special about that number when she had first landed on her assigned world. Within a couple of weeks struggling against the natives of her new homeworld she decided it would be the first marker for her ascent to middle classed Saiyan.

Her mother was mid class. Her father was mid class. Her grandparents had been mid classed. Her entire lineage for as long as it had been recorded. Mid. Class.

It was a matter of pride, of surety in their latent power as warriors. She couldn't rest until she was strong.

Her mother had even been one of the candidates to become King Vegeta's mate. Her mother had nearly been the queen of their entire race. It shouldn't have been so hard.

But it had been. Every point had been earned. Fought for, killed for. Each tenuous unit an increase in power worth dying over.

She wasn't an idiot. Apara knew who and what she had to thank for finally breaching her goal. Her energy had been steadily building with every beating she received aboard the Frost. Everytime she recovered from damage past a certain threshold she grew stronger.

Even before joining her new crew she was aware of it, having lost a few battles and survived due to circumstance, or even something so shameful as cowardice when she was younger. It seemed simple looking back on it. An ally to keep her alive even if she lost, a chance to take advantage of a trait most Saiyans didn't even know existed. If the idea of a team she could trust didn't seem so stupid she might have considered it herself.

Most Saiyans would laugh at her plight, leave her for dead, or kill her themselves given the chance. At best she'd be kept around on the off chance her children had the potential she didn't.

Likely by someone who never could have hoped to have a mid class mate anyway. Some dredge hoping his child's line could someday be remembered in a manner trash like himself wouldn't be. Something she didn't have the privilege of strength to prevent. Yet another reason not to return until she was ready. The moment she matured she would need the power to fight off their advances.

Apara guessed that was why the idea of cooperation had never occurred to her. Until recently at least.

Dennis wasn't a Saiyan, and he had something to gain that she could, with some effort, understand. Survival, growth, standing. He had a reason to keep her alive, and he had given her a reason to do the same for him. He was a broken reflection of her species. Maybe that would be cause to kill him one day, but for now it had value.

Her mouth opened, tearing a chunk off the leg she held in her opposite hand. It was sweet, but it would have been better raw. The juices over penetrated the flesh, and left it almost like a candy. Sugar was good, but meat should always taste like meat. What was the point otherwise?

Those "sand-witches" Dennis had made days ago were much more palatable, even if there was no sand or would-be magicians involved in their making. The human had assured her that was the case. He had mentioned he would look for more ingredients on this planet, and Apara had a feeling Dennis could do better than the locals with them.

On second thought, she could stand letting him live even if she did outgrow his worth to her on the battlefield.

She paused, chewing before thinking better of going to find him immediately to demand a better meal.

He could be making something already, or perhaps he was dedicating his time to getting stronger, like she soon would be?

Who knew what kind of technique he could be working on even now? What power he could be trying to draw at?

I put a hand over the blue woman's mouth before she could scream, her legs tightening around my waist as I thrust into her violently. Neither of us wanted an interruption, but some of that scream escaped past my fingers. She sounded like rain on an early morning. Beautiful.

Thankfully no one had thought to interrupt us yet, I might have killed them.

It hadn't started like this, Loola was just a woman with a case of hero-worship, and a serious case of misinformation that went unhurt by the hint of xenophilia I picked up from her, but after we got to talking it was clear where both of us wanted this to end, and who was I to deny that?

So a quick disappearance into what was a surprisingly nice, carpeted bathroom lit warmly by candlelight was really all it took for us to get started.

Our coupling was feral, at least by the standards of someone so much more brittle than I was. In all the ways that mattered to me I was being downright gentle. I was running on half forgotten instinct, and a dry spell that had lasted past an actual reincarnation, and that was if I had even had the opportunity before my arrival and subsequent conscription to the PTO.

It was difficult, in a way. I had to be careful not to break any bones because I wasn't willing to suppress myself to a level in which we were on an even playing field. Even now. Especially now, the moment I let my guard fully down was the moment someone killed me, and I wasn't interested in testing the waters of the afterlife a second time.

Besides, even with the immediate distraction of a woman's warmth around me, that coiling, twisted part of myself enjoyed feeling this much power, and this much intimacy with someone else. It meshed nicely with the never fading novelty of being a self-made empath.

She was smaller than me, her light form easy to wrap my arms around, her skin was the color of cotton candy and sweet childhood memories. There was an interesting pattern of darker colored skin swirling into nipples capping off a pair of breasts just big enough for me to get a handful off. In this quiet moment of triumph, not even a full day since I was fighting for my own life, she was the perfect woman. She was the only woman.

My teeth sank lightly into her neck, and between the reflection of the mirrors on either side of us her eyes dilated, body spasming around me. I could feel everything she wanted, where to touch, how hard or how soft, how quickly I needed to move. Even why she wanted it that way.

When we started the woman had been commanding, and experienced. I was more than willing to be an apt student, after all it had been some time, and I had lived in shame long enough to know I didn't like it, nor have any real desire to get things done quickly. But soon enough I tried a few things, explored a few avenues her body was quick to respond to.

She pretended not to react of course, at first, but feelings didn't lie. In a way she was scared I could so quickly pick up on things she hadn't even noticed about herself. That spot just at the center of her left earlobe, the knot above her left calf, the fact her left breast was more sensitive than the right. All that and much, much more as clear to me as if someone had left me a map of what things got her off.

The confidence to act on my own came quickly enough, and with it came the ability to please.

And when I really got started?

She clung to me like I was the only other person in the universe, meeting my thrusts with a desperate vigor I was somewhat impressed by, her fingers trying and failing to dig into my shoulders. The more I touched, the more I read her own feelings, the more delirious she became… The more she melted like puddy in my hands.

It was a new game for me to be certain, but a game my own abilities made me perfectly suited to be quite good at.

"Please" She whispered. Begging, pleading for release after I had given her so much already. She was sore, over-stimulated, and in any other situation but this one she might have told me to stop, or asked for a break. But here and now I had been stacking her orgasms like playing cards, and I had pushed her into a state of mind I was so close to pushing to a breaking point. I was very eager to see it.

As the unfocused gray of her eyes met my gaze I saw curiosity and satisfaction reflected back at me in bright, burning orange. I was close, but I wanted to end this with a bang.

I reached upwards, leaning into her and gently caressing just under her right breast, still heaving with exhaustion. A distraction. My other hand was reaching behind her and above us, only our weight against the wall keeping her from sliding off of me. In the end I didn't need to bother. She wasn't paying attention, didn't know what I had planned, and it only made her tighten against me as she read something on my face.

I waited, thrusting harder and watching as her composure crumbled all the more, my own would be quick to follow. But not quite yet. Above us the hand I had dipped into what felt like a mason jar of candle wax clawed down her back just in time for my lips to reach her own, catching a scream of pain and glorious satisfaction loud enough for the both of us.

Her body spasmed around me, bringing me a climax to match just before she eventually went limp against the wall behind us. My forehead met the wall over her shoulder, and I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. For a second nothing else mattered, there was only pride and a kind of tiredness I could get used to feeling.

I took a step back, watching as an alien beauty sank slowly to the ground, her glazed eyes meeting my own with something resembling worship. The feeling she gave off was one I had yet to decipher.

I grinned, stuffing myself back into the standard issue PTO uniform I was wearing. I hadn't even needed to take it fully off.

My hand ran through my hair as I looked over what I had done, adjusting the strap of my pauldron shortly after, and I found myself enjoying her beauty even now, even after all was said and done. I hadn't realized just how much I needed that.

I turned to the door, before looking back at her.

"Thanks."

Oh well, no rest for the wicked.

And Im back.

I have the next chapter done, and when the one after that is finished I'm going to update and reactivate my . I'm graduating soon, and if all goes well we should be seeing updates every Sunday(Ish).

Sorry for the wait boys and girls. I've been busy.