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Things were strange. 30 years ago, nobody would have likely ever believed a place like this could exist. But, things changed. People changed. Or, more correctly, peoples. A remote colony, far off the fringes of UNSC territory, away from the well-traveled areas of space. On the dangerous fringe of now, ex Covenant territory.

The original colony started with the Kig-Yar. An uneasy, underground truce of sorts. But by now the Kig-Yar were known for that. They weren't so much about the empire and the glory as they were for who could pay the best. Who could make them the better deal? Of course, all underhanded and hush hush obviously.

But when the Covenant collapsed on itself several years back, a stunning spectacle really, that was exciting as much as it was terrifying, suddenly, new doors opened. The alien empire, hosting a combined number of trillions of aliens, suddenly broke into fragments, everywhere. Suddenly, the galaxy was filled with bands of aliens that had no purpose. No goal, no drive, no orders.

And through the mess of it all, the first Sangheilian warship that arrived here put the entire colony over a cliff edge. The ship itself, was in shambles. But the Kig-Yar and the Human settlement groundside erupted overnight into a standoff. Even if the ship above was crippled, it was a match to contend with the small colony groundside.

The Kig-Yar suddenly wanted the Human colonists on the world gone. Out of sight. But they realized that they couldn't manage it. It would have been very suspicious, to arrive on a world and find so much Human technology being utilized by Kig-Yar alone. Buildings, weapons, vehicles, technology in general.

But before the tense standoff erupted into bloodshed, the Sangheili acted first. They touched down on the world, hung their ship in low orbit, and set foot outside on one of the port landing strips. On the human side of the colony.....

And through some miracle of chance, the Sangheili did not fight. The ship that hung over the colony was found out to be directly involved in the battle over the Covenant holy city, High Charity. The Sangheili aboard the vessel brought startling news with them, if, a little sketchy and rough.

A truce.

A truce with Humanity and an allied, joint effort to cleanse the remnants of the Covenant Empire, and its leader, the High Prophet of Truth. The war, was over. The Sangheili had set foot on the home world they had so long sought to destroy, so long been told that it housed an affront to their gods.

And they left. They left in peace.

To pursue the Jiralhanae and the remnants of the old Covenant. And now they were here. The captain had decided to break away from the mass of Sangheilian ships returning to their own home world, and pursue their own goals. Firstly, repairs. A quiet, backwater colony.

And from there, everything changed. The prominent, undisputed leader of the Kig-Yar argued and squabbled with the Shipmaster. The arguably, most prominent voice for the Human colonists compromised and interjected. The colony could repair the ship. Key word being, could. But this colony stayed alive because of its unique access to technology from two species. It would not give for free.

And so a bargain was made that changed the rules. The Shipmaster, and his warriors, had nothing. But this colony lacked defensive options. Stealth was essential for its survival. Under a united banner, the Shipmaster agreed to a compromise. Their ship would have its repairs. But this colony, was under their guard. They were its protectors.

Sangheilian values had a weak spot for honour, and esteem. The warriors aboard, would be undisputedly renowned if they obliged. And so they did. But, for two years, nothing happened. And even Sangheili grew restless of waiting. So, the council of three, as they came to be known, bickered once more.

And at last, the dust settled. The Sangheili sent their warship to the ground. Landed it, parked it, and put it to rest. And everything after that, was history. The colony shifted. The warship was built around and upon. The warship was now immobile, part of the colony itself. But still held its defensive power.

And then everything exploded. Trade. Humans began pillaging and salvaging from the non-essential parts of the warship, selling Covenant tech on Human black markets, alongside the Kig-Yar. And the Sangheilian warriors, who called this world home, needed something to do.

So they sent technology back to Sangheilios. Because as activity increased, money, and technology, resources, pooled in. From out of the woodworks of the galaxy species showed up here. Unggoy, Kig-Yar, Sangheili. The council of three became powerfully rich. Resources and technology exchanged hands here at a crossroads, before being shipped or smuggled off to their intended destinations in the galaxy.

And it only went from there.

More variations of species began to show their colours here. Arrive, trade, and stay. And in another two years, the colony not only became a black market trade post. But it became a mingling of species. Humans in all their shapes and colours. Sangheili, Kig-Yar, Unggoy.

A mosh pit of cultures, traditions, both old, and new, beginning to emerge and mesh together. Customs being swapped and traded for one another. It wasn't all peachy. Old grudges died hard. Cultures butted heads. But, with no doubt,

Most dysfunctional families did that anyway.

And what a shining example of cultural merging other than the lower downtown districts. The red light district. A packed, crowded, and almost painfully ugly merging of Human and Covenant architecture that combined together as species were pushed closer together. Just off the verge of the market area, infringing into a different territory.

Not food or weapons territory, or even alien and human narcotics, but social. Bars, and joint-species operations and gatherings. A little rough around the edges. But not rough like the lower slums or black markets. It truly was a sight to see. Because 4 years ago this would have been laughed at. A fool's idea.

Vibrant colours of neon that Humans so favored for signs and the ornate structures of the Covenant, hovering, holograms, bright blues and purples, all meshed together in a clash now. And a clash it was. For nobody would have ever guessed at how....human the enemy could be. But, times changed.

Lines blurred and merged, no longer so cut and dry. Which, to be fair, worked out rather well at this particular club. A bar, mostly intended for those who worked, to come, sit down, and enjoy something. A comfy chair. Something decent to drink. And of course, the dancers.

And not just any dancers in particular either. This club had a habit of merging Sangheilian customs with other species. Not only where there Sangheili females, but human and even Kig-yar performing. But, not in the traditional human sense of performing, or the almost sleazy, telegraphed aggressive moves of Kig-yar females.

Sangheilian woman, when compared to their male counterparts, where naturally very similar. To some, still nicknamed slurs like splitlip of squidface. But, arguably, as eyes watched a Sangheili woman who knew how to dance, suddenly the off-putting alien in their appearance vanished. And the intriguing alien emerged.

Where Sangheilian males were muscle, naturally fit bodies from a harsher world, carved, bulky, and square set, Sangheili females curved. Still with traces of muscle for their species were naturally strong, but curved gently. Softer features graced them in a slightly smaller frame. And to one who knew how to dance, the spectacle, even to human eyes, to Kig-yar eyes, and maybe even the rare Unggoy that showed up here, it was a show.

Human women and Kig-yar could emulate it, if taught well. But always, the best in the art where those who were native to it. And right now, there she was. Easily, the star of tonight's show. In alien tongues or human, shouts and cheers resounded out at the display.

A Sangheilian woman, alone, up front on the stage, essentially naked save for a tight red band across her chest, and a draping, bright red weave of cloth between her legs danced. Gold rings, on her ankles and wrists caught the light, and her arms splayed wide in elegant arcs followed by red cloth through the air that followed in their wake.

Her skin, a fairly standard dark shade of grey, and eyes, sharp and yellow, with predatory slits like the eyes of a snake darted among the crowd before her. Her winding, snake like neck curved gently with her movements, her back arched, and her double jointed legs, long, powerful, took elegant strides across the stage as she moved.

The red cloth that adorned her covered only over truly private areas, trailing along with her movements softly as she moved with the intent of display. Her body moved to emulate the gentle slopes and curves of the cloth, her hands, and boasting dangerous, long sharpened nails, more like claws, splayed long fingers gently as she swayed, curved, and moved.

Trailed across her body slowly, tracing her own curves across bare stomach or backside. Made a show and spectacle as she brought them up to her unique mouth, four mandibles that could split apart, which formed a smile on them as they creased upwards, before parting and quivering as she held a hand up to them and blew gently.

She was a twirl of motion, never stopping, and always, expertly conveying the flashy red cloth that hung and draped from her body. A sway of hips, the show of cleavage as she bent down to the crowd in front of her with a look in those dangerous but friendly, almost fun loving eyes of hers.

And then, the spectacle ended. The music, whether it be alien, or human, stopped, marking the end of her dance. Her body, always, shined a little brighter at the end of the dance. It was slick. She worked herself, no doubt.

And with a finality, she turned her exposed back on the crowds. Swaying hips gently and slowly, turning her snake like head back on the crowds, and watching with her bright eyes as she pulled the bright red, simple and tight cloth that covered her chest off, exposing her back completely.

A final backwards toss into the crowds behind her, and a final look of her eyes as she vanished behind the veil of the stage, trailing one, last finger behind her that finally vanished behind the curtain. And, that was it for the night. The show was over. The crowds of combined aliens or Humans cheered, or parted, off to other parts of the club to relax or drink.

But, there was something there, that none of them saw. It was only through your eyes that could be seen. Her eyes. Those last moments of the performance. Her eyes fell upon only one in the audience. Focused directly. That finger, trailing along the curtain. It was for show.

But it was also, her calling card.

An invite.

Sangheilian woman were cold. Just like their male counterparts. However, it didn't excuse them from being alive, and it didn't excuse them from being somebody to relate to. Talk to. It was just simply difficult to break through their exteriors and gain access to their private life.

Their people, male or female, were fighters. Always, bearing a face and a mask that was one of the warrior. Every Sangheili, male or female, knew how to fight. And, the truest way to ever get to know one, was to fight. But her eyes did not wander because of the frequency of fights.

They wandered and strayed because they held respect for the one who had fought. The one who had fought, only once. A mere bar fight. Tensions rose as drunken slander among species reached a peak. A scuffle erupted, of which everything exploded.

Face to face with an 8 foot tall, Sangheili male. Enraged and angry and out for human blood. The fight, to say the least, was not pretty. And the fight itself, nearly ended in death. Blows that impacted on the Sangheili that didn't seem to affect him. Useless attempts at hurting him through thick skin and muscle like iron.

But the will was there. The will to continually stand up and try. Until eventually, the most sensible of the lot pulled him away from his fight and dragged him into another. The female, the dancer, after her own round of fighting, took notice.

She wasn't impressed at the loss. But there was respect. Sangheili were like that. They were, if anything, respectful of those who fought regardless of their "inferior" nature. And that face, that coldness, that mask, was removed in the wake of respect.

Removed in short moments of training. An offer from her to train and show how to fight with Sangheili. Because this colony, wasn't always peachy. Time gave way to personality. Personality gave way to someone to talk to. Someone, who despite being inhuman, was the same anyway.

Someone who was inhuman, but over time, undoubtedly something more in her privacy.

The door slid open and there was no time. She was faster, taller, stronger. Pinned against the wall as four mandibles found lips. Smooth curves and an alien body pressed close, still clothed in dance garb. Her own hands, trailing down not her hips, but the one she was after. Hushed breath escaped between her four smooth mouth parts, pressed so firmly up to someone alien to her.

This had started sometime back. Became something more than friends. The boundaries of culture and species eroded. Now leaving her gentle, curved body pressing against another. Her exposed chest, the strong thump of two heartbeats against bare skin sending shivers as she clawed away at the clothes in her way.

And then, there it was. Evidently, the boundaries were still there. A watch. Beeping frantically to let one know that it was time to do something. Time to go somewhere. Humans. Always so busy. She didn't take kindly to the interruption. She leaned against the doorway, blocking the door, trailing a hand across her stomach, down past her navel, across smooth skin and to the strings of fabric around her hips.

She tilted her head, her mandibles open slightly as she watched silently with her eyes, demanding, and suggestive, speaking volumes without actually speaking. The tilt of her hips, and the stringy material suspended by those flares, slid down, slowly, stopping as she held it there, just briefly.

She wasn't letting you walk away from this fight.

She pushed her legs, slender, powerful, close together and the red draping material slid down them, stopping at her knees and resting on her other set of joints, before she stepped out of the material completely, the red garb piling up on the floor at her feet as she moved.

She stepped forwards, completely naked, her form, etched slightly with the strength of her species but graceful in gentle curves, graceful in their deliberate movements as the dancer, the performer, the showman, wanted something more. Her eyes, alien, bright, and focused, showed her predator. Showed her want.

In the retreat made as she pressed forward, one of her hands pushed against you. A hard push, stronger than a human could stand up to, caught by the soft material of a bed. She was faster. Overtop in a moment. Laying down on top of her prey, trailing her body, curved, smooth, supple, yet slightly rough under toughened skin, and just, ever so slightly slick from the remnants of her work.

Up and along her gentle frame, until mandibles found lips again. Alien hands, boasting sharp, yet careful claw like nails found themselves running through hair, caressing the strange feeling material to her. A deeper kiss than before, more affectionate as she opened her mandibles. Engulfing the strange mouth belonging to the alien underneath her.

And a rare appearance made by her tongue. Often kept hidden, and never seen. But flexible and longer than expected. Slipping past lips to find and play with her partner's. And a hushed break away as she flushed a dark shade of purple across her mandibles. Her eyes said it all.

The trailing of her hands across the remnants of clothes and shirts, against bare skin as her claws dug in, just barely. Down, to the pants, the belt, quickly undone and left open to the world. Her body, on display, sat over top of another. What she so desperately wanted, resting against her bare thighs and stomach.

The old saying "size doesn't matter, it's what you do with it" was irrelevant here. She was bigger than even a tall human male. Even a Human male, who was particularly well endowed wouldn't even really give her what she could receive from her own species.

But she didn't care. The way her hands, claw like fingers gripped at your chest. Her eyes, predatory and demanding. She didn't want to receive. She wanted to take. Pressure increased as she leaned down on her arms, raising her hips up, spreading her legs and thighs. She watched carefully for the movement of arms. She didn't want to be held. Or gripped.

She was in control here. And with no hesitation, her hips slid downwards. A meeting and a joining. Heat, warmth, alien insides clenching and sending pleasure. A sharp breath as her mandibles parted and she slid all the way down, her hips resting safely against bare skin again. But only briefly.

She positioned herself. Very slowly moving her hips, adjusting her legs. Powerful legs, capable of moving her in elegant strides across a stage. Her eyes sharpened. Focusing as her breathing went up and she grew flustered, excited. Flushed with heat and a dark purple across her face once more.

And then she started. She was a dancer. She was flexible and graceful. And now, rather than curve and sway gently on stage in a capturing display, she hungrily moved her hips, her thighs, her entire body in a different rhythm. Her hands trailed across bare skin, moving to grip and pin hands and wrists to her bed.

She would have none of that. This was her show. And she was exceedingly skilled at it. She never bounced or used her powerful legs to lift herself. She used her hips alone, hilted down as far as she could go, swaying them and rocking them, rotating them. Her insides gripped, hot and warm, pulling and wanting.

Her mandibles went slack slightly as she watched, still flushed. And then, the silence was broken. Among hushed breath, the distinct sound of her voice, soft, feminine, gentle. Rising in gasps. Every gasp or moan, her mandibles quivered gently, spreading and then closing. Her hips grated, and slid easily, now slick, and at last, she couldn't fight off even her own instinct.

Her hands clawed across the bare skin of a chest, drawing the sting of blood ever so slightly. Pressed against and then released as she began to use her legs now, pushing, up, and then crashing down. She grew hot, darker shades of purple and closed her eyes as she bounced.

Mandibles closing, and then shuddering, falling and opening in moans as she would rise up, and then slide down. In the light of the covered window of her home, dark oranges and reds through blinds, her body shined, slick and hot.

Her curves, still swaying, her hips, still playing their enticing dance of sways, sideways, forwards, backwards, as she rode, faster, harder. Hands gripping tighter. An alien voice, distinctly unhuman, but so gentle and soft rang out in a combination of moans, bordering on shrieks, and ragged breathing as two hearts pumped on overdrive.

And in one, final moment, at the end of the show, at the end of the ride, the peak and height was met. Shared by two. Whoever arrived first, it didn't matter. Because the arrival of one set the other off. She crashed, coming to a great end and stop, hilting her hips and bucking in short, erratic bursts of impulse.

Falling forwards, leaning down, pressing her body close, and for the first time, allowing hands other than hers to touch her. Free to pull her tight. Feel the curves of her back, trace her body with ease across hot flushed skin that was slick.

Her breath was hot, quick, heavy and damp, oppressive even, as mandibles flared and engulfed in a kiss that led to a sharp moan across a purple flushed face. And then rest came.

The slow, cooling and winding down. She didn't roll off. She stayed on top, if only, rolling off to the side partially. One of her powerful legs draped across the body she pulled to her for warmth. Her hands, gentle and careful again as they slid across scratch marks, affectionately.

Now was the time for true privacy. She would let hands roam across her completely, affectionately, hold her and pull her tight. And rest would come. Against her chest, soft, supple, under her alien skin, was the beat of two hearts. In total, three hearts beat in the room, all excited, and coming to a slow rest.

The annoying watch buzzed again in the dark. A reminder. She was different. And the watch beeped late for work. She was alien and inhuman. A different species.

Different species were supposed to have barriers.

The watch stopped beeping, as the battery was removed from it and tossed away in the dark.

She slept in the dark, resting. So different. Smoothed and curved. Gentle yet strong. Alluring and persuasive. Demanding, predatory. And loving.

There were no barriers here.