Celebration 1

        How does an organization this big survive in an age like this? Before their inevitable loss of the planet, governments were hesitant to support our cause. In the old world, their resources were deemed inarguably essential to operation, and as they fell one by one we saw our doom piling up before us.

        But funny enough, when freed from the petty powers it had vowed to safeguard, XCOM found itself to be doubly effective. No longer did we beg for funding. We took what we wanted.

        And I had just taken the grand prize: A living Viper. Adam would be giddy.

        With my skyranger's departure having pulled too much heat, the XCOM capitol ship had to retreat into a minimally-powered state to conceal its giveaway electrical signatures from alien sensors that stalked the area. It was the only way to hide like we did, with the entire planet under their eye.

        With no powered machinery online to aid in transport, I had to bring in my prize manually, tail hoisted over my shoulder and moved with my own strength. I dragged the lamia the long way throughout the whole base, through corridor after corridor, past lowly rookies huddled tight 'round candlelight and senior officers standing tall in the dark. Reactions from the latter mattered most, but reactions from the former were the most fun; not many got this close to a Viper with their spine intact, and soldiers cheered as I passed.

        Coiling her by hand into a manual service elevator (one of the few human technologies serving a function on this ship) was the stickiest part: Her muscled coils, piled one atop the other, were extremely dense and consumed most of the tiny metal box. With the help of a pair of rookies we pushed her in; while they leaned hard against her weight, struggling to keep her coils from tumbling out, I climbed atop. Crawling into the space between snake and low ceiling, I did what I could to get comfortable, nestled between bundles of muscle.

        They handed me the last of her, the unconscious girl's torso. I grabbed under her arms and hauled her up, the cobra's head flopping all about. The elevator bounced. Sitting on top of her, and her head in my lap, we rode down.

        The elevator creaked and shook like it was breaking apart. Every grind and jerk put me on edge; they were loud enough to make you think the whole world could hear. I closed my eyes, breathed in and out. Wished I could relax. The girl in my lap was calm as could be.

        Vibrations from the walls rode up through the lamia, shaking my seat on her body. One big bump rocked her torso. Her head rolled and drool trickled off a sharpened fang; it glistened in the dark, and hit my skin like ice. Beneath me her chest sighed, up then down. Shallow, weak breaths. And even through the tight shirt of that strange black Kevlar, I saw the elevator shaking in her chest; her breasts trembled with every jerk and vibration.

        I hesitated. The cameras were offline with the power, I knew. I breathed in, I breathed out, and relaxed.

        One arm scooped up behind the back of her hood to support her hood. The other lay on her stomach. I gulped, then moved it upward. It slid delicately across the scratchy fabric of her shirt, tight to every tiny curve. I slid up her ribs, taking in their slight ridges. She was a beautiful creature, so perfect and deadly. I gripped her chest tight.