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From: "Stasya T. Canine" <stasyatk9SPAMUNDESIRED@juno.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} (new) BioPartners - Duke and Jack - Job Offer (5/?) M-dog zoo military-scifi nosex (Stasya T. Canine)
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Date: Thu, 24 Mar 2005 22:10:03 -0500
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Biopartners - Duke and Jack
Chapter Five - Job Offer
by:  Stasya T. Canine
---

The first thing I was aware of was an image.  A sleek brown head, half
covered by a combat helmet, was looking up at me.  The dog, somehow I knew
he was male, was studying me intently.  "Think you could work with a
half-mad Doberman?"

"Sniff my crotch..."

The image vanished.  I saw the same dog on the ground, with blood spurting
from his mouth...

Pain washed over me, the new image vanished, my eyes snapped open--and I
screamed the dog's name:  "Duke!"

I felt something cold touch my neck.  "About time you woke up."

"What happened?"

"Don't you remember?"

I closed my eyes, searched...  and found myself looking down at a sleek
brown head that was partially covered by the distinctive headgear worn by
combat structs.

"Duke, only thing I remember is meeting you for the first time."

There was a long silence.  "Nothing?  You don't remember our last battle,
or taking the hit meant to finish me?"

I tried to roll over to face him.  I couldn't move so I settled for
looking at the ceiling.  "I remember we're partners.  Your name.  The
image of our first meeting, forever burned into my mind."

I felt the bed shift as he jumped on it.  He carefully straddled my prone
body and the ceiling was replaced with his sleek head.  His ears were flat
against his skull and those expressive brown eyes were filled with worry. 
"OK, Jack.  They told me you were mind-lost.  They also told me to tell
you to build on what you *do* remember.  Eventually it will all come
back--if you really want to remember it all.  You didn't suffer any brain
damage.  It was your side that was blown away, not your head."

We looked at each other for a long time while I thought about it.  "I
saved your life?"

"Yeah.  Then I saved yours.  Nothing we haven't done before--lots of
times."

Lots of times.  Something in the way he said it triggered a brief glimpse
of another image.  I saw him straddling me but this time I was looking up
at his swollen penis.  "I see your dick."

He tilted his head slightly.  "Yeah?  And?"

I sighed.  "That's it.  Just a glimpse and then it was gone."  I tried to
reach up and pet him.  My arm didn't move.  "I can't move my arms.  Oh,
your dick was pretty big.  Swollen."

This time his voice held a note of interest.  "Yeah?  It was?  You figured
out why?"  Then he moved his head and licked my face gently.  "Thought I'd
lost you, love.  You decided to stick around?  Partner?"

Everything hit me at once.  Duke, on the ground, lifeless.  The woman
holding the antique rifle, lining up for another shot, to make sure he was
dead.  My scream of hatred and loss, followed by my desperate lunge.  The
deafening blast when she fired.  The impact and pain.  "Duke!  You're
alive!..."

He turned his head away, embarrassed.  "Yeah.  I guess you remember now."

"The blood.  It was pouring from your mouth.  I thought..."

"Only stunned.  Damn bullet hit my headgear and knocked me out for a few
seconds.  Impact slammed my jaws shut--nearly bit my tongue in half."  He
moved and settled so he was stretched out by my side with his head on my
good shoulder.  I felt him press gently.

"The bullet shattered your lifesigns monitor and drove the shrapnel into
your side.  When I came to and didn't have a signal from you I went
berserk.  So used to facing lasers that I never thought the monitor was
destroyed, assumed you were dead."  He shut up and pressed again.  "Yeah. 
Berserk.  Got us promoted to a desk job.  Can't have a field op go crazy
and shred a woman in public.  Started with her throat.  Went from there. 
Saw the after incident pics.  Pretty messy, Jack.  Nobody kills my Jack. 
Nobody kills my lover and lives to brag about it.  Yesterday, got a
private note from the opposition.  Apology.  They knew she'd fucked them
as surely as she thought she'd killed us.  Truce.  Peace negotiations
begin as soon as you can get out of this bed and into a cart without
dragging half the floor with you for life support.  They want to live,
too.  Biopartners Security was going to declare vendetta if you died.  I
couldn't stop them and they made sure the opposition knew it."

"Vendetta?  BPS?"

"Yeah.  The recovery techs managed to pull her monitor records.  Turned
out she was a senior op for an organization we'd never heard of.  Our crew
did a data dump to BPS and all hell broke loose.  Anyway, she was more
than just another field op in a small merc outfit."

I winced.  We were good, damn good--but compared to BPS we swatted gnats
and we knew it.  Hell, Duke and I had learned that the hard way when a BP
team had asked us to do a few training sessions with them.  They'd scored
easy kills in every test and we never got a shot off.  The wolf had
apologized later and made a gentle comment.  'You two are good, but
neither one of you is a wolf.  Don't let it bother you.'  "Duke?  Who the
hell did we run into?"

He sighed.  "A wolf-killer, Jack.  A fucking renegade wolf-killer."

"Damn.  No wonder BPS went nuts."

"Yeah.  Something like that."  He snorted  "Remember that team we played
with a few years ago?"

"What about them?  Yeah, I was just remembering what the wolf told us
about not being wolves."

"They showed up in full combat gear a few minutes after the data dump. 
Get this.  *Both* of them pissed on what was left of the body and then
*thanked* me for doing such a good job on her."

I managed to turn my head so I could look at him.  He was telling the
truth.  "Ah...  Duke?   I had the impression those two are consummate
professionals.  Lethal as hell, but still so professional that after the
combat is over they'd buy a round for the folks they just finished trying
to kill."

Duke laughed.  It was that evil, filled with gruesome promises laugh that
only came out when the Doberman in him made all of his decisions about
justice.  "Yeah.  Professional.  Pros until they run into one of these
wolf-killers.  When that happens they get personal.  Very, very personal. 
As in *lethal*.  No mercy.  I understand the other side is the same way. 
Hatred doesn't begin to express how those two groups feel about each
other."

He stopped.  "It's them.  They're here."  I felt the bed start shaking. 
Duke was shivering in terror.  He also whimpered and tried to hide his
head in my armpit.

"Who?..."  I realized.  "Oh.  Shit."

I heard a man sigh.  "Relax, you two.  Duke.  Did that bullet addle your
brain that much?  We're friends, damnit."

Duke pulled his head out of my armpit.  "You expect me to believe that
when all I can smell is death?"

There was a long, tense silence.  Then the wolf spoke.  "Duke.  Did anyone
check you for olfactory damage?"

"No."

"Of all the..."  His tones changed, became those of a wolf used to giving
orders.  "Seal this room.  I'm calling in an evac team and a field trauma
squad.  I want these two fixed right and I want it done last week.  If
anyone objects, tell them BPS has just quarantined this area and if they
want to keep their job they can get out of our way."

Four hours and a trip halfway around the world later we found ourselves
being escorted into an imposing facility.  Duke was taken away to have his
nose sorted out and I was settled in the most luxurious hospital suite I'd
ever seen.

The wolf was gone on some business of his own and that left the man to
settle me in.  "Sorry about the poor accommodations.  This was all we had
available."

I adjusted the bed so I could look out the window.  "Poor?   I've never
seen anything this luxurious.  Figured it must be some sort of VIP ward. 
Thanks, whoever you and your partner are.  I've managed to forget your
names.  Remember playing those games a few years ago but that's it."  I
turned the bed so I could look at him.  He was settled in a chair with his
legs stretched out.  He looked relaxed but I was looking for, and found,
the lethal layer I remembered seeing.   "Nice pose but I see past it,
killer."

He nodded his head.  "Wasn't trying to hide.  I'm Mark, partner to Heth
and right now we're the Alpha command team in BPS.  This is the recovery
area for those injured during training.  The support facilities are pretty
basic.  The team recovery wards are a lot more sophisticated.  Anyway, the
structs take damn good care of those of us who can live and work with them
at any level.  He leaned forward.  "How are you feeling?"

"Miserable.  Can't move, except when I play with this fancy bed. 
Wondering what's going on.  Wondering what my new job will be now that
Duke and I are desk pilots."  I closed my eyes, sighed deeply and then
reopened them to look at Mark.  "Grateful as hell for everything but
wondering what sort of price we'll be paying for all of this attention
from BPS.  Why the hell is the Alpha team of BPS spending time with a
combat struct team that almost got killed?  Oh yeah, I almost forgot. 
Where are we?  Four hours travel time covers a hell of a lot of
territory."

"You're at BPS headquarters.  Don't look so surprised.  After what
happened to Sophia and Ted...  Oh.  That's right, you don't know our
history.  You and Duke didn't partner through the usual channels..."

The man was actually embarrassed.  "Heth and I studied your records. 
Pretty sketchy."

He went on before I could comment.  "Never mind.  I'm not here to talk
about our past, or yours."  He grinned briefly when I reacted.  "Yeah,
Heth and I know more about you and Duke than we do anyone else in the
entire Biopartners organization."

I snorted.  "Must be a damn good reason for that.  Duke and I are a combat
team, one of so damn many that I can't believe we're of much interest... 
Wait...  Duke mentioned she was a wolf-killer.  This have anything to do
with that?"

"Only after the fact.  Kinda nice to know our future bosses are familiar
with death--and delivering it."

"Duke and me?  Boss BPS?  He called me mind-lost, not out of contact with
reality, like you are.  We aren't killers except under stress.  I know
that much about us."

He laughed so hard he fell backwards.  Still chuckling he righted the
chair and resettled.  "Didn't say anything about you two bossing BPS. 
We've been looking you over for something else."  He sobered.  "Something
we knew we needed but never had anyone to head.  Until now, until you and
Duke proved in the field that you can do the job--if you accept it."

I figured he deserved a glare and he got the best one I could come up
with.  "Fine.  We blow it in the field, nearly get killed and *YOU* sit
there and tell me you want me as your boss?  Want me to punch holes in
that dream?"

He reached into his shirt pocket and produced an ID card.  "Is this a
dream?"  He turned it so I could see the front.  The faces on it were
familiar.  Everything else was wrong.  He flipped it on my chest, stood up
and of all the impossible things... saluted me.  "You and Duke can punch
all the holes you want when you write the rules as heads of Biopartners'
new Diplomatic Section."  He started to leave then turned back and grinned
again...  "Oh, your last job as a combat team will be to finalize the
peace negotiations between us and those mercs.  After that?  Well, you can
sit behind a desk and be my personal secretary... or accept this and be my
boss when I need a diplomatic team.  Be warned.  If you stay a combat team
you'll get held in reserve for the diplomatic work.  You're no good to us
in the field.  We can't afford to put known berserkers in the field. 
Sorry.  You aren't the only team we've pulled in over the years."  He
smiled lopsidedly.  "First team that hasn't been summarily retired,
though."

He softened his voice and I could swear there was something wistful
coloring his next words.  "You and Duke aren't wolves and Heth and I envy
you that lack.  Too many wolves these days.  We need more dogs--and all
that implies.  Maybe, with the help of teams like you and Duke, Heth and I
can retire in a world filled with peace, not combat."

He gazed at something only he could see and then walked out the door,
closing it gently.

I snarled at the closed door and then sighed.  "Have I got any more
buttons you can push?  Put that way, I don't have much choice, do I? 
We'll take your damn job."

---

Stasya T. Canine
March 24, 2005

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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