A quick note from the author:

The first four chapters of this story are going to be introductory. So expect an information dump. They'll flesh out the main characters, probe their pasts, and explain how they all ended up in the same place together. I plan to release at least one new chapter a month, unless otherwise stated in my profile.

I hope you enjoy…

Meet Belle

20 years ago…

An Island in the Northern Marianas…

Known for its equitable balance in climate, fluctuating between wet and dry seasons, and its close proximity to the deepest trench in the world, the Mariana Islands could be considered a paradise. With a population of over 50,000 residents, most of the people were spread out over just three of the islands. However; on one particular island, where humans rarely visited, lived a large tribe of lamias. This wasn't the only one that existed. Even in the Marianas. Lamia villages were abundant all over the world.

While the existence of extra-species had been known for quite some time, attempts to bridge the cultural divide had been fairly recent. Different countries had forged their own sets of laws and regulations in regard to the liminals. In some nations they were granted some rights under the law, with the right to work and the right to live without persecution being the most common. But very few countries granted liminals the same rights as humans. One of the countries that did, having made great strides in extra-species diplomacy in recent years, was the United States. Since the Northern Marianas were protected as a territory of the country, so too was this particular village.

The island is about 18 square miles. The volcano in the center dominated the primary landscape. Almost a century ago, after fearing an eruption, the Mariana government evacuated all the lamias. They returned, and now a large group of 120 of them lived on the island. The village was located right next to the coast. Most of the homes were wooden huts. They protected against seasonal weather, but not strong storms. If they were destroyed, they could be rebuilt with minimal effort and cost. The village was not wealthy, and the budget for stronger and sturdier steel and brick structures had gone to erect buildings like the recreation center, the school, and the municipal building. In the event of a typhoon, the lamias had a concrete shelter built inland.

A ship visited once a month to ferry supplies to the island, but that was about it. The tribe lived in isolation. They sustained themselves by fishing, using subsistence farming, and harvesting what little they could from the island itself. It was a peaceful life. An ordinary life. But one little girl wanted more…

"Belle!"

She had heard the voice in the distance, but kept her eyes forward, glued to the horizon.

"Belle! Where are you?"

The voice repeated itself. In the background she sensed someone approaching her. She felt a hand tap her on the shoulder.

"What are you doing all the way out here?"

She turned. It was her mother. Belle, the lamia child in question, had ventured out to one of the rocky cliffs about a mile from the village. She had been told not to go by herself in case of an accident, but ever the curious one, she wasn't going to listen. Her mother knew why she was there.

"Mama," she asked in childlike curiosity, while pointing towards the sea.

"What kind of ship is that?"

Her mother stared. It was large. Very large. With a deep gray hull, and a command center that seemed to tower above a completely flat deck. The sound of a loud roar caught their attention. Belle looked up and saw airplanes. Small ones. Fast ones. There was one. Then another. Then suddenly four of them flying in a row! They were several miles off the coast, but she could see them perfectly. She never took her eyes off them; fixated. The jets turned and flew back towards the direction of the ship.

"That's an aircraft carrier, dear. It's a military ship."

Belle's mother moved to embrace her daughter, hugging her from behind. "You've been taught that this island is protected by a mighty nation. That ship and those planes belong to them."

The little girl made an "O" with her mouth as her face lit up in surprise. She smiled gleefully. "Wow, Mama. You sure do know a lot."

Her mother laughed, and started to coax her daughter back to the village. Ever since that first day when she had taken her daughter to the cliffs to show her all the ships that passed the island, Belle had been hooked. She really liked watching the planes as they soared overhead. Few of them ever passed the island directly, but a number of the them passed close enough to the coast to be spotted. And the cliff was a great viewing spot. There were no predators on the island, so her mother didn't mind her going out on her own. She was more worried about the cliff collapsing, or a landslide from above causing a rock to fall to on her or something. Belle was still just ten years old.

She held her daughters hand, as they slithered along the path back towards home. If her mother was any indication, then Belle was sure to grow up to be a stunning beauty one day. The little girl had long blond hair with cobalt blue scales on her face. The scales on the top of her tail were the same color, before transitioning into a lighter hue of blue at the tip. The underside of her tail was gray, giving her a look similar to a Blue Racer. Her eyes shimmered like gold. One of the elders had remarked that she possessed 24-carat pupils. Her mother possessed similar looks, except that her hair was darker. Most of the lamias in the village all had scales of various colors. One distinct trait was that they were female. All of them. Apparently, no male lamias existed. Of any species.

As she and her mother entered the village, Belle waved to one of the other kids around her age as the two set off to play. The largest age group of the villagers were the adults. The children that weren't of breeding age yet made up the next largest group. Lamias tended to come of age around fourteen years old. It was still common in many tribes for girls to have carried and given birth before their eighteen birthdays. However; things began to change once the Extra-species Cultural Exchange bill went into effect. Before, many lamias in the village opted to finish their educations on one of Marianas main islands. Belle recalled listening to one of the older girls describe her experiences in what the humans called a high school.

"It's filled with all sorts of people, and even other liminals too. Saipan really is a large place. Thousands of people live there," the girl explained.

"You get to live in a dormitory with other girls your age, and you get to come home every few months."

The school on the island was small, but the adults were capable teachers. After getting their education, many lamias on the island learned a trade. A few of them even earned degrees at community colleges if they were fortunate, before returning to the tribe. Belle's mother was one of the girls who had been lucky enough to be presented with the latter opportunity. None of them could afford to go to a four-year college unless the local government offered them a scholarship; and that was rare. However, the American government began giving liminals opportunities to study on the mainland through homestay programs, and many began to jump at the chance.

There was one lamia in the village that served as a shining example to all the children on just how far they could go with the right ambition and drive. She was around the same age as Belle's mother, and had been one of the first extra-species of any kind from the Marianas to study abroad through the homestay program. Her name was Hollis. Dr. Hollis as the adults called her. She went to college, finished med school, then completed her residency, before becoming a licensed doctor. All after using the homestay program as a launching pad. Instead of opting to practice medicine in the States, she returned home to the Marianas, and practiced there. She understood a great deal about human and lamia biology. At one point, Dr. Hollis had done research trying to unlock the mysteries of the lamia as a mono species. After a decade of practice, she returned to the village to raise her young daughter. Her presence in the village was a blessing. The other lamias could receive immediate treatment from her without having to wait for the cargo ship that came around once a month. There had been instances in the past of lamias dying from complications from pregnancy and childbirth, serious injuries, and disease before being able to get to a medical professional in time. But Dr. Hollis changed all of that. Not only for her village, but for other lamias living in the country. They traveled from all over the Marianas Islands to seek treatment from her. And because of that, she had inspired many other girls to follow their own dreams as well.

However; the different extra-species programs did bring about some problems. More and more girls who were out studying abroad and chasing their dreams did not return to their tribes at all. And Belle's had been no exception. Some of the girls did send money back home, but many did not. In order to compensate for the lack of extra income needed for supplies, especially in her village where the environment and climate could be volatile during the wet seasons, several girls worked permanent jobs in Saipan to support the tribe. And that left the village starved of capable workers to farm the fields, catch fish, and gather edible plants.

Another issue felt all around was that some girls brought back men that they had married while away. And these were not communal mates either. They weren't there to impregnate the whole tribe. Just that one girl. The practice of a man taking one woman to be his mate was not something that the lamias understood. They were an all-female race. Without human men, they'd be fucked. And not in the sexual way, but in the extinction of the species sort of way. And even though there had been instances in the past of lamias abducting men and forcing them back to their villages to have wild orgy sex with all the members of the tribe, sometimes at once, such practices were not appropriate now that the government was recognizing their rights.

As a solution to this growing problem, Belle's village started to send a few of the girls out, either to the mainland or abroad through the homestay program, to recruit potential patriarchs for the tribe. Potential candidates were brought back to Saipan and interviewed at length by the elders before being brought back to the tribe. The elders were particularly looking for men that had strong fertility rates, were well educated, could thrive in a leadership position, and could do manual labor. Belle's village currently had three patriarchs. One of whom was her father. He had been a quality assurance manager for a major food distributor, and worked as a welder before that. He was a fitness guru, and understood quite a bit about produce. He loved all of his daughters. Even if a third of all the children in the village were his. The oldest of whom were finishing high school. Even if a liminal didn't have the grades to qualify for a college scholarship, or wasn't afforded a slot in one of the homestay or extra-species care programs, it was possible for them to be granted US work visas like the foreign humans. The world was their oyster, and they knew it.

"Hey Belle, what do you want to do when you grow up?" Another little girl had asked her, following a checkup from Dr. Hollis one day. This girl was named Ingrid, and she had been Belle's best friend since birth.

She looked at the girl rather puzzled, "I'm not sure..."

Ingrid looked towards the sea and spread her arms wide. "Did you know that we live close to the deepest part of the whole sea? It's true! My mom told me that we did. One of the elders told me that no one had ever fully explored it, but I want to."

Belle giggled watching her friend make motions with her hands of a submarine diving down to the ocean floor when suddenly a soft roar from above caught her attention. She looked up. It was flying way above some of the clouds. It was so high up that she could barely see it. But she could hear it. It was a white aircraft with great big wide wings, and four engines. From what she deduced it had to be huge. Enormous even. But it was slow. Much slower than those jets she had seen before. She watched the airliner as it soared overheard, oblivious to her friend.

"Belle! Hey, Belle are you listening?"

She nodded her head and smiled. She now had an answer to the girl's question.

8 years later…

Honolulu, Hawaii…

Ioane had been just your ordinary guy. Born to a native Hawaiian family, he had lived on the island all his life. When it came time for him to choose a college, the University of Hawaii at Manoa was his pick. It was right next to home and the tuition was cheaper. A better deal since his parents had offered to pay his way if he kept his grades up, and UWM had been a bit easier on his dad's wallet as a result. He moved into a tiny apartment close to the campus that was a bit cramped, but he was living there rent free, so he couldn't complain. And for the first two years of school, everything was fine. Great even. He kept his grades up as promised, and didn't have to pay rent, until his dad got laid off. Soon he found himself in deep financial shit. Juggling a full-time job and a full-time school schedule did not sound appealing to him. So, he searched around to see what he could find, until something caught his eye. The Homestay Program!

He didn't know anyone that had done it, but he knew what it was. The Exchange bill was common knowledge at this point. And it worked like this: the host would house a foreign extra-species person, be it male or female, and assist them in transitioning into society. For American hosts that meant helping the homestays finish school, learn a trade, find work, seek a more permanent residence, or complete a path to citizenship. Length of stays were based on the liminals needs. The government was strict on who they approved to be hosts, but the benefits were worth it. Paid rent and utilities, and a government salary every month. So, he threw caution to the wind and applied. He wasn't expecting to hear anything back, but about a month later, a letter from the American Department of Cultural Exchange (ADCE for short) arrived in the mail. He was shocked! He couldn't believe it. He had been approved as a host.

He had met with his coordinator, a gruff older man in his mid-40's by the name of Rogers, who was a by-the-book kind of guy. Ioane signed the contract, and was soon moved from his tiny apartment into a larger house financed by the government. A week ago, Agent Rogers had informed him that his homestay would be moving in. Ioane had thought for days what kind of liminal his ward was going to be.

It could turn out to be a pretty cool dude that he could become buds with…

Or a hot babe!

Cool dude… or a hot babe!

According to Rogers, he had been chosen as a host because he and his homestay would have something in common. More than likely they'd be a new student at UHM and not from Hawaii or the US. And who would make a better guide than a native that had lived there all his life? To Ioane, that made sense.

A knock at the door knocked him from his thoughts. He opened the door to find Agent Rogers standing there dressed in a black suit with a pair of sunglasses over his eyes.

"Good morning, Mr. Ioane. Are you ready to meet your homestay?"

The boy nodded. Rogers stepped inside and gave the inside of the house a quick glance over. Making sure that everything was neat and tidy. Satisfied, he turned around and started walking towards the door.

"Excellent," he replied.

"But one more thing," he said, stopping right in front of the entryway. He turned to look the boy in the eye.

"You have read the rules and regulations of the program, right? Particularly about one about 'no sex.'"

Ioane nodded in confusion. Any host that was caught having sex with a homestay faced prosecution, and charges equivalent of that of felony rape. Why would Rogers be reminding him of that now? He raised an eyebrow as a truck backed into the driveway. He watched from the doorway as Rogers spoke to the driver. The two men got out and opened the back door. Ioane's jaw dropped at what he saw next. It was a girl. A lamia! And an intoxicating beautiful one at that. She had bright blonde hair that looked to be as smooth as silk. She was wearing a 'UH Manoa' shirt that exposed her stomach. Though he figured the shirt was a size too small to fit over her large breasts. The scales on her tail were blue on the top, and gray underneath. She carried a large blue suitcase with her.

Rogers walked her to the door and handed her luggage to him. The boy set it down inside, then turned to extend his hand to her, "I'm Ioane. Nice to meet you."

The lamia smiled and gripped his hand, a customary greeting that she was used to.

"I'm Clarabelle, but people usually just call me Belle."

That's when he saw them, those bright golden eyes glaring back at him with a fierce confidence that made him wither under their gaze. She slithered inside and took a look around. The living room and kitchens were large and spacious enough for her to get around. Her bedroom was huge too, and that bed! Her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree just staring at it.

"Do you like the place?" asked Ioane from behind.

She nodded, "It's wonderful."

"Good," said Rogers. "If you two need me, Mr. Ioane, I'll just be a phone call away."

He closed the door and went on his way, leaving the two of them behind. Ioane just kind of stood there nervously as Belle eyed the place up and down. The house had a bed, a toilet, a bath, running water, and central AC. All the things she considered to be luxuries. She laughed to herself. Half the appliances in the house she didn't even know how to use. A microwave? A stove? A coffee maker?! There were even machines that could wash and dry her clothes. Her silence was making him nervous.

"What's wrong?"

She turned around to face her new host, "Nothing. It's just that, it's all a bit too much. I've never even seen half of these things before."

She picked up a remote and started clicking it to see what it did. The fireplace sprung to life, causing her to jump in surprise. The remote hit the ground with a thud. Ioane crossed the room and picked it up, turning off the fire at the same time.

"Don't you have these kinds of these things where you're from?"

She shook her head, "I'm from a small island in the Northern Marianas. My village is tiny. We didn't have running water, electricity, or plumbing. I didn't know what those things were until I went to high school in Saipan. I slept on the ground for most of my life."

"Really? Wow."

Ioane shook his head in disbelief. And he thought that his people were different. Here was someone straight out of the bush. They took a seat at the table, as Belle began to explain a bit of her past to him. Try as he might, he couldn't stop himself from making quick glances at her chest. Things got worse once he realized that she wasn't wearing a bra and that her erect nipples where poking through her shirt. He smiled and nodded, pretending to pay attention the best he could. The next time he stole a glance he didn't even realize that she had stopped talking. He looked up and found her smirking at him.

"Oh, were you trying to read my shirt?" She asked innocently.

"N-no!" he shouted defensively, before immediately changing his mind.

"I mean, yes. Yes, I was."

"But don't you go to this university?" She continued nonchalantly.

He just kind of sat there in silence, not saying anything, before quickly trying to change the subject.

"So, I'm assuming you're starting your freshman year?"

Belle shot him a wicked grin, as her golden eyes shone with an almost feral ferocity. Ioane winced.

"I've heard stories from my older sisters, and the other girls in my village that went abroad," she said.

"I'm not stupid. Or naive. You're a young man with a healthy sex drive. And you clearly find my body desirable. That doesn't make me angry. However; there are rules that we must follow. I don't want to be deported. And you probably don't want to go to jail. I'm fine if you want to stare, but just keep it in your pants."

Ioane threw his hands up, "Of course! I'm sorry for staring, really."

Belle laughed and cupped her breasts, pushing them up with her hands. Ioane's face turned beet red. She grabbed her shirt with both hands.

"If you want I can show them to you. It's fine as long as we're not having sex, right?"

She began pulling her shirt up to reveal herself, but he slammed his hands on the table and stood up quickly. He began waving his hands in front of his face.

"Please don't do that! It's not necessary. Nor is it decent behavior!"

She raised an eyebrow, "Oh, how is it not decent when we're in the privacy of our home? Or is it that you don't want to see me naked because I'm not your mate? If that's the case, then I can understand that too."

She lowered her arms, as Ioane breathed a sigh of relief, and sat back down.

"Lamias are a sexually aggressive species; we have to be in order to survive. That's part of our nature." She explained.

"Do I have to worry about you sneaking into my bed at night?" he asked bluntly.

She laughed and waved him off, "Oh heavens, no. I won't deny that I do have a healthy sex drive, but I have my own ambitions. I didn't come here for sex, or to find a husband. I came here to chase a dream."

"What kind of dream?" he asked.

Belle sighed and rested her hands on the table, "I want to be a pilot."

Ioane raised an eyebrow. "A pilot? That's an odd dream for a lamia. I suppose."

"I mean, how are you going to fit that big body of yours into a cockpit?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. But if there's a will, there's got to be a way, right? I just don't know where I should start."

"You could always try the US Air Force. Or maybe the US Navy. Though; the Air Force would be the better choice, I'd think. They have an office on the campus," he explained.

"The Air Force huh?" Belle replied.

"Are they the one's that fly the planes that land on the big ships?"

Ioane shook his head, "I think that's the Navy, but the Air Force has jet fighters too, and stealth bombers! And huge cargo planes. There's actually a base close to here where you can see the planes take off and land. I can take you there sometime."

Her face gleamed with delight, "Really? I'd love that. And do you think you could go with me to the Air Force office on campus sometime?"

He smiled, "Sure. I'd love to."

Belle returned the gesture. She was sure this as going to be the start of a wonderful friendship.

Over the next couple of weeks, Ioane had made good on his promises. He took Belle to the Hickam Air Force Base, where they watched all sorts of planes take off and land. She had even gotten to see the monstrous C-5 Galaxy. The sounds those engines made shook her to the core. It was awe inspiring. She had never seen an aircraft that huge in her life! Watching it gave her some hope. If something that huge could fly, then maybe she with her big body could as well.

Sometime later she found herself at the desk of the Air Force recruiter, who was extremely impressed with her resume. She graduated at the top of her high school class in Saipan, earned a full scholarship to the University of Hawaii at Manoa via the extra-species education program, and had chosen engineering as her career path. There weren't too many lamias in the USAF. The US Navy and the Marines both had large numbers of them, but few ever enlisted or commissioned into the Air Force. And an even fewer number of the ones that did were trying to be pilots. Was it even possible for a lamia to fly a plane? The recruiter had never seen one. But the girl seemed determined to try. Even if it wasn't possible, there were still plenty of other jobs that she could do. Behind those golden eyes of her, the recruiter saw endless amounts of potential. And just like that, Belle had joined the UHM's Air Force ROTC program. Later that evening, Ioane had gotten a phone call. It was Agent Rogers on the other line.

"I'm just calling to check on the two of you, kid. How's Belle doing, is she starting to grasp Hawaiian culture a bit? Is she transitioning well at the school?"

"Everything's fine with me, sir." He replied. Mumbling a 'thanks for asking,' under his breath.

"As for Belle, she uh, joined the Air Force ROTC and…"

"Woah, woah, woah! She what?!"

Rogers had cut him off mid-sentence. Ioane could hear static in the background followed by a big long groan.

"Oh God dammit…"

The agent swore out loud. There was a pause before Ioane spoke, "Is that going to be a problem, sir?"

"No, but it will create a ton of extra paperwork for me," Rogers explained.

"Ideally this Extra-species program is designed for you, the host, to keep an eye on the homestay and help them transition into society. Not the military. There are certain requirements in the ROTC that will require her to leave your side. And ordinary day passes won't cover them. MON will have to be informed of her status. She'll have to be registered here as part of the Air Force reserve. And then there's the issue of sorting out her scholarship too. If she accepts any money from the military, then she'll lose the one that we gave her, and that would likely get her booted from the program. The process is a real pain. You'll just have to bring her by the office, and we'll get everything sorted out."

"Will it affect my contract?"

"As long as she does not enlist, then you're fine," Rogers spoke.

"If she enlists, then we'll have no choice but to terminate the contract immediately. She'd be a member of the US military then. There'd be nothing the ADCE could do for her anymore."

Meanwhile, Belle just had to stop and admire herself in the mirror one last time as she adjusted her hat. She was wearing her camouflaged uniform, slightly modified to fit her lower body. Her long hair was done up in a bun. She placed her hands behind her back, palm in palm, and struck a pose. She looked confident. Fearless. And she liked that. The Air Force seemed to be a perfect fit.

As the years dragged on, Belle advanced her studies as a ROTC cadet. She learned about the Air Force's structure of command. She learned what she needed to know about military arms, conflicts, laws, and professions. She learned how to hone her leadership skills. She learned how to advance her communication skills through public speaking and writing classes. She took part in ceremonies and drills. She learned how to fire a weapon. And how to wear the different uniforms properly. Her superiors were very impressed with her survival skills. Though; given the nature of her upbringing, roughing it in the wild was second nature to her. But Belle took the opportunity to advance them even further. Having the lower body of a snake didn't hamper her physical fitness test scores either. She could do pushups and sit ups no problem. And she was actually a lot faster on the ground than her human classmates, and a few of the liminals too. The PFT scores, not just for her, but for all extra-species had to be normalized first. And for Belle, with her tail being made of muscle, while still being extremely flexible, made most physical tasks easy. She could raise her human half up off the ground and reach heights of 15 feet just by using the strength of her tail to boost her.

Her superiors noticed three distinct traits to her personality. She was stubborn, highly competitive, and fiercely determined. In her village, all of the other children were like sisters to her, and at times there were up to 50 or more of them living there. Everything was a competition. Gathering food, getting attention from the patriarchs or elders, even playtime. For the tribe, the older you were, the more respect you had. Because of your perceived wisdom and experience. And the older kids weren't about to listen to the brats. Belle usually preferred playing by herself as a result. And she would always log her successes and failures. If she found a quick new route up the mountain, then she would insist that hers was the best one to take, unless someone found a quicker one. Her fishing spot was the most productive, unless proven otherwise. Her stargazing cliff was the most enjoyable, unless someone could do better. She didn't like to follow others, unless they could prove themselves to be competent first. She was also one of those types of people that once having made up their mind to do something, would see it through to the bitter end. By the end of her sophomore year, she was in the top five of her class academically. When asked by one of the other top students what drove her so hard, her response was "What's the point of doing something if I don't try my best?" Leaving her classmate to theorize that Belle had been competing with herself too.

She was living at home with Ioane as her host. Eventually he did get over his insecurities about living with her, and began to treat her like he would a male homestay. True to her word, Belle never pursued sex with him. Though she did tease him quite a bit. Usually offering him the chance to see her naked if he was having a bad day. During nights with a full moon, when her libido did peak, Ioane simply locked his door and didn't go out. It was a simple solution. He often heard loud moaning and groaning noises coming from her room those nights, but he had never asked about them. They did spend a lot of time out together as host and homestay, but they hung out as friends too. One thing that Ioane had that Belle really enjoyed was a game console called the N64. It was still state of the art at the time. She really liked the shooting games, and a few of the platforms and racers weren't too bad either. Her favorite was Turok. Because who wouldn't love a game where you ran around killing dinosaurs, aliens, demons, mutants, robots, and shamans with all sorts of futurist weapons? They had a lot of fun times together, and she learned a lot about American culture as a result.

By the start of her junior year Ioane, who had since graduated, had started dating a girl that he really liked. As a result, he renegotiated his contract as a host, and signed it over to his mom and dad so that they could take over as Belle's new guardians. Meaning that she was moved from the house that she and Ioane had shared for two years, and into his parent's home. The move had helped his folks out of a financial hole, even though the ACDE did repossess the house, but that had been his decision to make. And in the end, Belle wasn't angry. His parent's home was only a 20-minute walk from the campus. She had also learned about human and liminal culture through her friends at ROTC as well, and the courtship of dating by watching a few of them, and Ioane and his girlfriend. She was happy with her life.

But at the same time, she had continuously expressed her desire to try and become a pilot. Her instructors had already known about that, but now it was on paper and official. That was the path she was going to take. The question was, could she? She had done well on the simulator, and had passed all her physicals. Her eyesight was right where it needed to be. The height of her human half was fine; it was just her big ass snake body holding her back. Her instructors tried to steer her into another field, but she refused. She wanted the same opportunities to succeed or fail as anyone else. Luckily for Belle, she was not the only lamia trying to apply for a pilot's position in the USAF that year. Or even just an air force in general. In fact, extra-species from all over the world entered military service. All different shapes. All different sizes. Male and female. Even if their existences had not been public knowledge, the United States had documents of liminals participating in every war of theirs since WWI. Vietnam was the first war where extra-species got to serve openly alongside mankind. And since then, the US had made strides to update its equipment. In the previous years, the US had begun phasing out their old Cessna T-37's, the Tweety Birds, and replacing them with their new Beechcraft T-6A's. However; modified Tweety Birds were still operational.

During the 1970's, the Peruvian Air Force had commissioned a small number of modified T-37's. They had a longer nose and a wider cockpit, and the center sticks were mounted at a different angle. The modified Tweety Birds were much larger than the originals, but were still rated at the same level of power and speed. Just with a larger engine. Why did they do this? During the Ecuadorian-Peruvian War of the 1940's, which was fought over a land dispute between the two countries, several tribes of Quetzalcoatl, a species of dragon liminal, had their homes destroyed. With nowhere to go, they pledged their loyalty to the Peruvian government in exchange for protection. A large number of them wound up serving in the Peruvian military; air force included. As a result of their success, a squadron was created. The tradition of employing capable Quetzalcoatl men and women as pilots continued into the 70's and 80's as extra-species relationships began to develop. Long story short, there was equipment that Belle could use. Other countries had created similar designs, and the US began modifying a small number of their aircraft for liminal use. All her superiors had to do was make those planes available for her to fly, and she would get her opportunity to become a pilot. Truly; Belle had been born at the right time.

The rest of her college days flew by fast, and soon Belle found herself standing with the rest of her classmates at their commencement ceremony. She was now a commissioned officer in the US Air Force. Her mother had been in attendance, having travelled all the way from the Northern Marianas. Once the ceremony had concluded, Belle's mother slithered up to her and threw her arms around her in a giant hug. She had a big smile on her face.

"I'm so proud of you, honey. Look at your uniform! And your cap. And all these ribbons!"

Belle had earned awards in academia, athletics, leadership, and the Warriors Spirit among others. The ribbons she wore pinned to the left side of her jacket. Her navy-blue buttoned coat designated her as an official member of the United States Air Force. And the golden bars on the shoulders of her jacket, as well as her cap, reflected her new rank as an officer. She was no longer Cadet Belle, but rather 2nd Lieutenant Belle.

"I keep thinking back to all those times when the two of us would watch the ships from the shore when you were still a little girl, and we would watch the planes fly by at a distance," her mother said, reminiscing.

"Every time I'd see you look up at those big metal birds flying, your eyes would light up like the Sun."

Her voice trailed off as she stared into her daughter's eyes. Golden pupils clashed with golden pupils.

"I knew the road you were going to travel down was going to be a rough one, Belle. But I never doubted you for a second. You worked so hard, for so long, and I'm so glad that you're going to be able to realize your dream. On top of being a college graduate, you're an officer in the military that protects our island. I couldn't be prouder."

Belle started to tear up, before shooting her mother one of the widest grins in her life. Her mother was sure her daughter's face would split if her smile any bigger. Tears rolled down her face, as she lunged forward and held her mother tight.

"I'm going to do it, Mama. I'm going to learn how to fly! And once I get my wings, I'll be the best damn pilot that I can be."

After obtaining her order of merit, Belle was selected to undergo undergraduate flight training. She was introduced to a real airplane, with real gauges, and real instruments, all behind a very real engine. She had been cleared to fly one of the modified Cessna's to log her introductory hours. She was so nervous the first time she had approached it. Normal Tweets were about 30 feet long and weighed the same amount as a mid-sized SUV. The modified Tweets were 10 feet longer, twice as wide, and weighed half a ton more. Her instructor looked rather amused as she tried to enter the cockpit for the first time. It wasn't as easy as stepping up, then over, then down into the seat. She had to raise her tail up above her head and into the seat first, feeling around for the empty space of the floor. Next, she used her tail muscles to catapult her body into the air, all the way up to the top of the door, which was opened like a hatch. That earned her a whistle from her instructor, who was clearly impressed by her strength and flexibility. She began to coil her tail around the floor of the cockpit, minding the center stick, lowering her human half into the seat. It was a tight squeeze for her tail, but she could reach all the controls just fine.

The instructor cocked his head and asked her to exit the plane. And she did, with alarming speed too. All she did was stand. And once the portion of her tail that fused what would have been her legs together, she balanced on the side of the craft and just jumped to the tarmac, letting gravity do the rest. He asked her to enter the plane once more. And she did, using the same method as before, although a little bit faster this time. Satisfied; he gave her a big smile and entered the cockpit on the opposite side. He shut the door, and proceeded to give her a little refresher of the gauges and controls. The other pilot candidates were receiving introductory training on the Beechcraft's, and that's what the training their senior years had prepped them for. This girl had only been approved to fly on this aircraft due to her unique body style, and yet she seemed to know the location of all the switches, and what the gauges did just fine. Even though this was a modified Tweet, the controls and dials were all the same. But still; it was impressive.

After some quick checks, Belle was ready to fly. She had to steady her nerves the first time she fingered the throttle. The instructor told her to apply thrust, as the plane moved down the runway. The aircraft started to lift, and suddenly they were in the air! Belle's training took over as he helped guide her. As soon as they were level, he backed off a bit and let her take the controls. She looked out the window to her left, looking down at the world below. This wasn't the first time she had ever flown, but it was the first time she had flown while piloting. And then it hit her. She was piloting! She was flying. She was really fucking flying! Once it was time to land, the instructor helped her guide the plane in. The landing was a little bit rough, but he had assured her that was normal for newbies.

As the plane came to a halt, Belle looked down at her trembling hands. She had flown. She had really done it. She looked back on all the time and effort that she had spent on chasing this dream. Having to listen to people that had doubted her, who told her it was impossible, or unlikely, because she was a lamia, and her big body was going to hold her back. She clenched her fists as she started to choke up, overcome with emotion. "What now?' Is what she wanted to say to all the people that thought she'd never be able to fly a plane. She was so happy, that she immediately broke down. She couldn't stop the tears from flowing.

6 Years Later…

Al Udeid Air Base. Doha, Qatar…

Qatar was hot. Really hot. With temperatures exceeding 105°F (40°C) in the summertime, the harsh desert climate proved to be a fearsome test for its inhabitants. With the War on Terror seemingly never-ending, more and more soldiers, officers, and personnel had been deployed there. Both mankind and extra-species. And the USAF was no exception. The titanic roar of eight jet engines cracked the sky, as a large plane appeared upon the horizon, entering its final descent into the base. Once landed, another giant soon appeared in the sky behind it, on its way to the base. These were the venerable, but still reliable B-52 Stratofortress's. Long range strategic bombers that were completing their long journey across the Atlantic, from Barksdale in Louisiana. Considered a Cold War relic by some, the B-52's were still the most cost-efficient bombers in the Air Force. Sure, the Bone's had power, and the B2's had stealth, but the Buff's had grace.

From out of the sky, a third one appeared, and landed on the runway with a soft thud. Its yellow parachute deployed, slowing the massive aircraft down. The pilot steered the plane onto the tarmac where the other bombers were waiting. These three Buff's were part of the same squadron; the crews were going to be in Qatar for several months. The planes usually flew with crews of five; sometimes four. A pilot, copilot, a navigator, and a weapons system officer were typical setups. Major Browne, the pilot of the lead craft, was this small squadrons commander. He was already out of his craft, talking to the lieutenant colonel, who led another larger squadron that had arrived the day before. The major's had been the last to arrive. The lt. colonel was going to be assuming deputy command of a group that consisted of all the bomber squadrons on base starting that day. He had been going around introducing himself to the pilots.

The crew on the last plane began to disembark. The hatch on the bottom of the monster opened. The navigator climbed down first, followed by the weapons system officer. Their seats were positioned at the bottom of the craft. The WSO mentioned something to the navigator, and the two shared a laugh. They were a pair of captains, who were quite capable at their jobs. The co-pilot exited next. He was a 1st lieutenant. Being a newly minted B-52 pilot, he didn't have the experience flying the craft that the pilot did. He began to chat with the other members of his crew when Major Browne and the lt. colonel approached them. The lt. colonel had assumed that the lieutenant was the pilot, but the younger man quickly denied this.

A banging noise from inside the plane got their attention, when suddenly a head appeared from the entrance of the hatch. It looked left and then right, before lowering to reveal the body of a woman in uniform. She hung there, suspended in mid-air, clutching her helmet in her arms. She disappeared back into the craft, and proceeded to drop two bags onto the ground. When she lowered herself again, this time all of her crewmates, the major, and the lt. colonel staring at her. The major was about to say something, when her body turned and swung forward. Instead of falling flat on her face, a large coil fell to the ground first, almost as if she had jumped down. But she didn't have any legs! She grabbed her gear and righted herself. As she exited the plane, the coil turned out to be a tail. A long blue tail. The lt. colonel looked stunned. The woman was a lamia. The senior field officer approached the girl, who immediately recognized him as a superior and snapped into a salute.

"At ease. You're the pilot of this bird?" he asked.

She nodded, and introduced herself, "Yes Sir, I'm Captain Belle."

The lt. colonel, who looked to be a man in his late 40's, just kind of chuckled to himself in amusement. He gazed at her uniform, and saw the badge that all USAF pilots wore on a patch embroidered on her left breast. She had the double bars, which designated her rank, sewn on another patch on her sleeve. He was stunned. A lamia pilot? That was a rarity. He had served in the air force for over 25 years, and couldn't even recall the last time he had met one.

"How did you, uh, fit into the cockpit?" he asked rather bluntly.

Belle had caught the curiosity in his voice. She slithered over to the underside of the plane, and started lifting herself off the ground with her tail, until she was high enough to bang her palm against the underside of the plane.

"The cockpit is extended under the dash board, and the center stick has been modified so that I can fit my body in there. It's a tight fit though. The way the ejection system works is that the entire front section of the nose will be blown off, and the pilots seat will fall forward through a section in the frame, instead of rocketing up. It was designed for large liminals, Sir."

The lt. colonel nodded his head and told her to keep up the good work. He turned and started to chat with the other members of her crew, as Belle grabbed her bags and made her way inside. Al Udeid had a reputation for being a dirty base, but compared to her village, it was practically the Four Seasons.

Belle had earned her pilots license the year after she graduated college. Once certified, she was transferred to the Davis-Monthan Air Force Base in southern Arizona, where she was assigned to the engineering corps. As a pilot, she flew training missions in the T-38A, which served as one of the planes that trainees flew during their specialized training. She was an instructor. Her Talon had a modified cockpit, and was used to train large extra-species. When she wasn't flying, she led a team of technical sergeants. They worked on coming up with functional designs for cockpits that would make it possible for large liminals such as herself to serve on a plane. Or one of her sergeants, who was a 9'0" tall male troll. As such, Belle had spent a lot of time in the Boneyard. A massive outdoor storage area located in the desert, used to house equipment that wasn't seeing service. Most of the planes here were going to be scrapped eventually. Cut up and likely buried somewhere in the shifting sands.

She rented a place in Tucson, and lived there for three years. The weather was mostly hot and dry, but being a poikilotherm, she preferred that over an area that was wet and cold. It was the time that she had spent out in the Boneyard that had first attracted her to the B-52's. Lovingly called the big ugly fat fuckers (Buff's) by their pilots, a large number of these bombers were being upgraded with new equipment and weapons systems. Which included the one she would later fly to Qatar. After two years as an active officer, she was automatically promoted to 1st lieutenant. After another year of service at Davis-Monthan, she applied for strategic bomber pilots training. Her application was accepted, and she was transferred to Barksdale Air Force Base in northern Louisiana to begin learning how to fly the Buff. Living there was fine until winter hit. Belle had never seen snow, nor had she spent any prolonged amounts of time in the bitter cold. Needless to say, she had been miserable.

One time it had been so cold outside that her body immediately began to shut down and she collapsed on her porch. She likely would have been in deep shit if it hadn't been for her neighbor and fellow officer, with whom she carpooled with. She'd sooner go back to Arizona and bake in the desert heat than face the cold. She was now very, very grateful that she hadn't been transferred to the Minot Air Force Base up in North Dakota. She wouldn't have survived. After her fourth year of service as an officer, she was promoted to captain. Shortly afterwards she earned her certification to fly the B-52. Joining a short and elite list of female pilots to have done so.

Her first two years as a bomber pilot were mostly served running routine training exercises with other aircraft like F-15C's, F-16C's, and KC-135's, continuous bomber presence missions (CBP's), weapon systems tests, high-altitude maneuvering, and sorties down through the Pacific. She had stationed in Guam. It tickled her knowing she was only a few hundred miles from her home island. Shortly after her sixth anniversary as an officer, Belle found herself deployed to the Middle East, where she found herself flying sorties over Afghanistan. She still remembered her first combat assignment. She had spent hours with Major Browne, the lt. colonel, and the other pilots in the group reviewing the data for the mission. They were targeting Taliban training facilities. She could still remember how sweaty her palms were as the target appeared on the radar.

"Target spotted," radioed the navigator.

"Pilot keep your current pace."

"Roger that," she relied.

"Target is locked," confirmed the WSO.

"Payload released."

Belle watched on her monitor as over 60,000 pounds of bombs were dropped onto the training facility below. If anyone had been present on the ground, then they'd be dead now. Maybe her actions that day hadn't resulted in the deaths of people. Enemies or not, they were still people. She had flown other sorties where enemy causalities had been confirmed by ground troops. She hadn't given it much thought when she was younger; about piloting a weapon of war one day. She had just wanted to fly. She could tell herself that these were bad people that deserved to die, and that she was protecting the US. And by extension her home island in the Marianas. But she still had a conscious. It was a hard knowing that you had just blown other people straight to kingdom come.

She remembered speaking to her squadron commander, Major Browne, about it in private. They were sitting in the mess hall after the work day had ended. Browne himself was a liminal man; a Pan. He always kept the hair and wool on his face and body shaved, trimmed, and groomed. He probably could have passed as human if not for the horns on his head and the hooves on his feet. He was a professional. And Belle respected him a lot.

"In my mind, I know what we're doing here is right. But it just feels wrong having to take someone's else's life for the cost of peace," Belle stated.

"I never realized how sheltered my life was growing up until I joined the military. And I never realized how naive I had been about the nature of becoming an air force pilot until I came here. What should I do about this, because sooner or later, these missions will haunt me. I just know they will."

She explained herself the best she could. The Major sighed. He then spoke from the heart, and tried to give her the best advice that he could.

"I've been an officer for a long time, Belle. This isn't my first deployment either. And it probably won't be my last. Who knows. Very few people sign up for the military actually wanting to see active combat. It's an unfortunate side effect of war. It's awful. We're lucky that the US is peaceful. If you want my advice, I'd say steel yourself the best that you can. You don't have to block your emotions out completely, but don't let them control you either. If you do, you'll wind up becoming a danger to yourself and your crew. You're a good pilot. And the Air Force needs more people like you."

Six months later she returned to Barksdale in Louisiana after her deployment ended. Belle had taken Major Browne's words to heart. She steeled herself, and tried her best not to let her emotions cloud her judgement. She devoted herself 100% to the cause. No matter what. As a result, her personality became colder and more cynical. Her once flirtatious and fun-loving attitude slowly began to fade. In about three more years she'd be eligible for promotion to major herself, but there were a few things that she had to do before going in front of the military board.

Her new apartment in Bossier City was much closer to the base than before; within walking distance if she wanted to do so. She entered the bathroom and turned the faucet on, letting her long blond hair fall across her shoulders as she undid her bun. She splashed her face with water and gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Her golden yellow eyes stared back. They were once so full of energy and determination. She could shake the resolve of anyone that dared to challenge her with those eyes, but now they looked so dull. What had happened to her? Had the affects from the deployment really gotten to her that much? At the end of the day, she did what she was asked, and carried out her missions exactly as planned. So why…

Why…

Why did she feel so empty?