Black Velvet

He watched Yuta as he ate his chicken with a plastic fork, the alien keeping a lookout, her rifle always at the ready.

"Isn't she going to eat anything?" he asked. His question was directed at Edwards, who was digging into a packet of ravioli beside him.

"Someone'll relieve her after a while, then she can get something to eat and a little shut-eye."

"Can you guys even see anything in this?" Jules asked, looking about the dark jungle pointedly. Beyond the glow of the camping lantern, everything was near pitch black, like the jungle had been washed in a layer of dark ink.

"Sure can," he replied through a mouthful of food. He paused to swallow, then pointed to the helmet that was hanging from Jules' belt. "Borealans might have good eyesight, but that's beside the point. Put your helmet on, and I'll show you."

Jules set his packet of chicken down on the ground between his boots, taking a moment to ensure that it wouldn't fall over, then unclipped the helmet from the belt on his armor and pulled it over his head. Immediately, the ambient sounds of the jungle became muffled, the padding on the inside trapping heat and warming him more than was pleasant.

Edwards leaned closer and pushed a button on the exterior of the helmet, about where Jules' ear was, and suddenly he could hear clearly again.

"These helmets have all kinds of functions," Edwards explained, sliding down the full-faced visor. He hit another button, and suddenly the ghostly, green glow of a heads-up display flared to life. It was unobtrusive, occupying the extremities of the faceplate like something from a videogame, displaying numbers and values that meant nothing to Jules. He felt the Marine press the helmet again, and then the view changed. Rather than simply being transparent like a pane of glass, everything was suddenly tinted green, Jules looking about the camp in awe. It was like someone had just switched the lights on, albeit green ones, he could see the jungle around him with almost the same clarity that he could in direct sunlight.

"Night vision," Edwards explained, "there are other functions on the helmet too. You can access them with the analog buttons near the ear or through the display on your wrist guard. Just turn the screen on, yeah, that's it, then you can navigate the menu to switch view modes. There's no weapon linked to the system right now, so don't bother with any of the combat functions like the scope or the ammo counter."

Edwards sat back and continued his meal, Jules amusing himself by playing with the helmet. He switched to infrared mode, the warm bodies of his comrades displayed in shades of red and orange, while the cooler foliage around them was colored in hues of blue and black. There was a thermal imaging mode, which was apparently a different setting, showing heat sources in shades of white that made them stand out against the dark background. There was even a function that tagged the squad of Marines with glowing numbers that floated above their heads on his display. As he turned up the sensitivity of the microphones, he was able to hear the buzzing of the nearby insects and the chewing of the Marines in greater detail. Yuta had gloated about how her species had superior senses, but these helmets certainly seemed to make up the difference.

He turned his head in her direction, confident that his eyes were obscured behind the opaque visor, using the zoom function and the night vision to get a closer look at her. She was sat on a root maybe a dozen feet from the rest of the group, in profile from Jules' perspective. Like eyeballing women on a beach from behind a pair of dark sunglasses, he looked her up and down, taking in the curves and contours of her feminine figure.

The leather getup that she wore was so tight that she might well have been sewn into it, leaving very little to the imagination. Her thighs were thick and muscular, yet soft, and there was a subtle dimple where the hem of her shorts pressed into her flesh. She had an hourglass figure with wide, child-bearing hips that tapered into a muscular core, her impressive six-pack on display. The night vision was a little grainy, but he could make out a lot of detail, the humidity making her skin moist.

Her rear too was packed with muscle, yet soft and springy, the fat molding around the root that she was sitting on despite the tightness of her shorts. As his eyes roamed upwards, her bust leapt out at him, a pair of breasts larger than his own head fighting against the leather that contained them. They were massive, heavy, but not inappropriate considering her immense stature. He chuckled to himself quietly as he considered that despite her lack of a rucksack, she had plenty of weight to carry around.

One of her ears swiveled in his direction, and he quickly averted his eyes, picking up what remained of his meal and raising his visor to continue eating.

CHAPTER 2: GHOSTS

Despite how tired Jules was, he found it almost impossible to sleep. The Marines had no issue using rocks as pillows, but even the bunks on the carrier had kept Jules awake at night. The armor actually helped a little bit, the interior was padded, and so it eliminated the problem of sharp rocks and roots prodding him in the back. It only covered his torso, however, which meant that his butt was exposed to the rough ground.

He tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable, grunting in annoyance as an errant stick jabbed him through his clothes. He crossed his arms over his chest, staring at the canopy above him, the twinkling stars just visible between the breaks in the leaves. Everything was still illuminated by the glow of the lantern, the three Marines spaced out between the roots nearby, one of them snoring intermittently.

Yuta was still on watch, she didn't seem to have tired at all. After what she had told him about the forest ghosts sending the Rask packing, he wasn't sure that she would even let one of the Marines relieve her from her post, perhaps not trusting the humans to keep them safe.

Back home, when he had trouble sleeping, he would turn on his bedside lamp and read a book for a while. He couldn't do that here, and so he decided to play with his helmet some more instead, flipping down the visor and switching through the view modes. He was amused to see that the heat vision mode could detect small animals in the branches above him, what looked like birds, and maybe what passed for squirrels on Borealis. He couldn't make out any detail, just colored splotches, but he watched them run up and down the branches, leaping between the trees every so often.

There was so much activity here, but it was all just out of view, the local creatures were just as wary of the humans as the humans were of them. He propped his head up against the trunk of the tree lazily, yawning as he scanned the surrounding jungle.

Something near the top of one of the trees directly across from him caught his eye. The tree that they were sat under was a large one, and it created a kind of small clearing beneath its canopy. At the edge of the clearing, and perhaps halfway up one of the trunks, was an orange blob. It wasn't one of the smaller animals, it was much larger, bigger than a man if he had to guess.

His heart skipped a beat, his blood running cold, and he switched to a different filter in an attempt to get a better look at it. The whitewashed heat vision mode showed the same vague shape, it was lighter than the dark background behind it, but he couldn't make anything out when he switched to night vision mode. How deep into the foliage was it?

He zoomed in on the thing slowly so as not to lose track of it, switching modes again as he focused his eyes on the spot. There was definitely something there, something that Yuta had not seen.

"Yuta," he hissed, keeping as quiet as he could while still raising his voice enough to get her attention. She turned a single ear in his direction, her tail flicking back and forth in annoyance.

"What is it? Do not distract me."

"I see something," he whispered. "It's up in the trees."

"Where?" she asked skeptically.

"Up in the trees to your right, up off the ground."

She slowly turned her head in that direction, her ears pointing forwards as she scrutinized the jungle. Jules waited for her to raise the alarm with bated breath, but she merely gave him a dismissive glance as she looked back over her shoulder at him.

"I see nothing. Your eyes are playing tricks on you, get some sleep."

"I'm looking at it right now," he insisted, pointing to the red blob. As soon as gestured at it, the thing moved, retreating deeper into the canopy. Yuta snapped her head back around, standing and shouldering her rifle as it rustled the leaves and made the branches creak. Whatever it was, it was fast, heavy, and smart enough to recognize that it had been discovered.

"What is it, some kind of animal?" Jules whispered.

"Quiet!" she snapped, her rifle pointed at the trees. "Wake the others."

He crawled over to Edwards as she had instructed, the Marine sleeping soundly nearby, and shook him. The Marine jerked awake and sat up straight, clearly alarmed, Jules lurching backwards in surprise.

"What's up?" the Marine asked groggily.

"Something is in the trees," Jules whispered.

Edwards reached for his gun, which was propped up against a nearby root, closing his visor and hitting buttons on the side of his helmet. He stood and gave Velez a kick with his boot, who then roused Simmons in turn, the three Marines soon joining Yuta as they stood back to back and aimed their weapons at the canopy.

"Sitrep," Simmons ordered.

"Movement in the trees," Yuta replied.

"I saw it with the heat vision," Jules added, "it was hiding in the branches."

"Any idea what it might be, Yuta?" Simmons asked. "You're our expert on Borealan jungles, give me something I can use."

"I...I didn't see it, but it sounded heavy."

"It looked big," Jules said, "bigger than a person."

"I'm not picking anything up on the thermals," Velez said, swinging his XMR about as he searched the treetops. "If there was anything here, it's gone now."

"Maybe local fauna?" Edwards suggested. "Even Yuta isn't familiar with the local ecosystem. Might have just been some curious critter checking us out."

"No, it only ran when I pointed at it," Jules added. "It wasn't a dumb animal."

"I don't like it," Simmons muttered, "it's too much of a coincidence. The Araxie sent us coordinates that led us to the middle of nowhere, and now they're taking the opportunity to spy on us. Mister Lambert, as our resident diplomat, is this kind of behavior at all normal?"

"Normal is a relative term," Jules replied. "If what Miss Yuta told me about the Araxie is accurate, then their interactions with outsiders thus far have been profoundly negative. If they invited us or not, they may be very suspicious of our motives."

"How did they contact the UNN at all?" Simmons asked. "If they're so xenophobic, then how did they get access to a transmitter, and how did they patch into the UNN comms system? It's not like they sent us a carrier pigeon, right? Yuta, is there no trade between the Araxie and other territories at all? No contact?"

"That I know of, no," the Ranger confirmed.

"Fine. We'll wait until the morning, and then if no Araxie show up, we'll put a call through to command and ask for some new instructions. Lord knows I have better things to do than play these stupid games."

Simmons lowered his weapon, and everyone else followed suit, Jules watching from his hiding spot between the roots as they left their tight formation. Simmons had brought up a good point, how had the Araxie contacted the UNN? He wasn't sure if the Borealans had invented radio by the time they made contact with humanity, and if the technology had been confined to Elysia and their trading partners. There was so much that they didn't know about this planet, it was a source of endless frustration. Could this territory be hiding a secret society of super-advanced Borealans? It didn't seem likely, there was no evidence of that from the air, no glittering radio antennas or skyscrapers protruding from the canopy.

"Yuta, you're relieved," Simmons commanded. The Ranger's ears drooped, perhaps she felt that she had failed in her task of keeping her charges safe. "Get some sleep, Velez and I will take over until morning. That goes for you too, Mister Lambert. Let us worry about the ghosts for a while."

Jules returned to his place at the foot of the tree, lying down and struggling to get comfortable, Yuta curling up behind an adjacent root. She seemed to be sulking, and he thought it best to leave her be. He didn't think that she would be sleeping much tonight, and nor would he. Edwards, on the other hand, was already snoring. As Jules closed his eyes, he wondered how the Marine could switch off like that.

Images of the formless blob of heat flashed in his mind, invisible even to Yuta's superhuman vision, silent save for when it had made its speedy escape. It must have been an Araxie, the specters that the Ranger had described to him, but what were they doing? Why hadn't they made contact yet? Only time would tell.

***

Jules' troubled sleep was interrupted by someone shaking him awake, and he opened his itchy eyes to see that Yuta was standing over him like a mother cat protecting her kitten. As he rose to a sitting position, he saw that the three Marines had taken up defensive positions, using the protruding roots for cover as they aimed their weapons at the jungle beyond. They looked like they were dug into foxholes, the barrels of their rifles resting on the uneven wood as they tried to keep a low profile.

Jules flipped down his visor and turned on the thermal imaging view mode, and after a moment, the dark trees that surrounded them came to life. It almost looked like the forest was on fire, there were dozens of heat signatures surrounding the clearing, whatever was creating them silent and unmoving. They were just watching...

Fear gripped him, Yuta gesturing for him to stay down and out of the line of fire, Jules all too happy to oblige.

"Contacts all around us," Velez said, "I count at least twenty."

"They've taken no hostile actions yet," Edwards added, "what do we do?"

"Keep your weapons ready," Simmons said, "don't fire unless I give the order."

They were speaking out loud for Yuta's benefit, but Jules could also hear them inside his helmet, they must all be linked up to some kind of local radio channel.

"What do we do, Yuta?" Simmons continued. "Any advice? You're our Borealan expert here, is this some kind of challenge?"

"They are Araxie," she hissed, keeping her long rifle pointed at the trees as she exposed her sharp teeth in a snarl. "It is as the Rask described, they came at night, silent and undetectable. I do not know their customs. In my people's culture, challenges are made face to face, we do not skulk in the darkness."

"Lower your guns," Jules said, the Ranger looking back at him with a confused expression as he lay on the ground behind her.

"Mister Lambert?" Simmons asked, waiting for him to clarify.

"I'm willing to bet that the last outsiders these guys met were pointing guns at them too. They brought us here for a reason, they've been watching us, evaluating us. If we're going to prove that our intentions aren't hostile, we can't do it looking down the barrel of a rifle."

"That's a pretty major assumption," Velez said, "how can you be sure that they won't just attack us as soon as our guard is down?"

"I'm not sure, but what I do know is that we need to be diplomatic here, we need to show them that we aren't a threat."

As afraid as he was, this was his area of expertise, and he rose to his feet unsteadily as his heavy armor weighed him down. He tried to move forward, walking past Yuta, but he felt her massive hand impact his chest plate as she held him back. It was enormous, the size of a dinner plate, her sharp claws scratching the black material with an audible squeak. She looked to Simmons, and he nodded his helmeted head at her, the Ranger withdrawing her arm and letting Jules continue.

"We really doing this, Sarge?" Velez asked. He sounded nervous, not happy about setting down his weapon in the face of what to the Marines must seem like an impending attack. It must go against his every instinct as a soldier.

"Do as he says," Simmons replied, "we can't shoot our way out of here in any case. We're here to make contact with the Araxie, not to kill them all."

The Marines lowered their weapons as Jules took a few more tentative steps forward, leaving the safety of the roots and standing in the open amongst the bed of ferns. He felt exposed, vulnerable, but perhaps that was exactly how the aliens wanted him. He flipped up his visor to show them his face, the heat signatures giving way to pitch darkness, the only light coming from the camping lantern. He couldn't make out a damned thing, there was no sign of anything, no movement at all save for the natural waving of the leaves in the breeze. He extended his hands to show that he was unarmed, waiting for some kind of reaction.

Just when he was starting to think that he had made a colossal miscalculation and that his head was about to be blown off his shoulders, the leaves in the tree directly ahead of him began to rustle. It was hard to see in the darkness, illuminated only by the yellow glow of the lantern, but something was descending from branch to branch. It was stealthy, the wood creaking as it put what must be considerable weight on the limbs of the tree, what looked to Jules like a living bush dropping to the ground quietly. The mass of leaves and fronds stood up, rising to around eight feet, consistent with the height of a Borealan.

As it stepped closer and more light was cast on it, he saw that it had a humanoid figure. The leaves and other assorted plant matter seemed to be sewn into some kind of cloak that was draped about its head and shoulders, obscuring its features, a kind of camouflage that made it very hard to spot in the dense jungle. From beneath the mesh, two green eyes reflected the glow, like a pair of mirrors as they stared back at him. It flowed like water, graceful, so light on its feet despite its imposing stature that he could scarcely hear a twig snap or a fern rustle as it moved.

The closer it came, the more he had to turn his head up to look it in the eye, until it was towering over him so close that he could have reached out and touched it. As afraid as he was, he was determined not to be intimidated. This whole scenario might have been deliberately engineered to put the newcomers on the wrong foot, to scare them, and to influence the proceeding negotiations. Perhaps the aliens thought that they could throw him off with this theater, but he was a seasoned politician, not one to shy away from confrontation. The fire in his belly gave him the courage to speak up, the Marines and the Ranger watching from the safety of the roots as his voice rang out confidently through the silent forest.

"You are the Araxie delegation that was sent to meet us, I presume? My name is Jules Lambert, I'm here on behalf of the Coalition Security Council." The alien cocked its head at him, the leaves on its camouflaged cloak rustling. Did it even understand English? He continued regardless, the creature watching him curiously. "If you would be so kind as to lead my companions and I to your base of operations, we can begin the inspection."

"In...spec...tion?" the alien hissed. Its voice was low and raspy, not unlike Yuta's.

"Yes, I've been sent to carry out an inspection in order to determine if your territory meets the requirements for becoming a member of the Coalition. Our presence here was requested by the Araxie. I'm assuming that you're a representative of the people who transmitted the coordinates of the meeting place? We'll be needing accommodation for the duration of our stay, of course, and it's customary to appoint a liaison that can act as an intermediary while we perform our duties."