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The readings made no sense at all.

This region of space was supposed to be devoid of life. That was the whole reason the experiments were being done here - and why Kekoa was alone on the station. No interference, no muddying the test results. Boring work, but important steps towards the colonization of other worlds, to eventually bring life out here.

But there was something out here. Kekoa could see it on the readings. Knowing he was so many millions of miles from home, outside of contact range, and he was not alone made his blood chill. At the same time he was excited in a manner which was almost perverse. He had always wanted to be the star of an exciting adventure in space. Here it was.

He recognized the scan data. This was a Pokemon he had only ever heard of in rumor - a thing which existed in space, supposedly an abomination of science. Nothing he had ever heard said it was friendly. It was Deoxys. It was coming to the station with a purpose. Kekoa hoped it was as intelligent as the rumors claimed. The thought that he might be accosted by a monstrous animal in the blackness of space sent fresh adrenaline into the veins. The copperlike flavor in the back of his throat climbed high.

The shark waited in the glow of his monitors, his lithe and naked body hanging weightless without gravity. The station was deathly quiet, his ears so used to the hum of the oxygen scrubbers that he no longer heard them. He could hear the huffs of his breath. The clicks of his eyelids, especially the unusual third eye in his forehead. He watched the readings. Deoxys was coming closer. That the Pokemon had noticed the space station was a certainty.

He braced himself with the bars mounted to the bulkheads. The readings showed it closing in, closer and closer until finally a dull thud resonated in the confined space station. A silent alarm went off on one of his many screens, alerting him to the fact that the airlock had been cycled. There was no point in trying to hold it off. He had nothing to bargain with, no way to fight. He could only appeal to its supposed intellect in the hope that it was merely curious.

The shark met the creature in the midsection. Kekoa at the head, just leaving the control module. The compact yet imposing blue and orange form of the Deoxys floating in the hind section, the closed airlock at its back. Its black eyes peered at him, intelligence glinting in them. Cold, alien calculation.

Kekoa swallowed. His throat was dry. "Hello," he managed to say, his voice louder than he intended.

The Deoxys was impassive. Its long whiplike arms felt across its immediate surroundings but its eyes did not shift to examine the station. As its arms returned to its sides, they twisted into double helices.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Kekoa said. He felt stupid for saying anything at all.

The Deoxys drifted nearer, propelling itself not with the bars but a psychic force. It came as no surprise to Kekoa, who knew the Pokemon was able to push itself through the vacuum beyond the thick metal walls. He recoiled and pushed himself somewhat into the control module.

"Please," the shark said softly, quietly, knowing begging would get him nothing.

The Pokemon's tentacles slithered across the computers and their control panels, keying in queries with expert, sightless skill. Touching the screens, seeming to absorb the data presented by osmosis.

Kekoa watched it learn, fascinated blackly by the Deoxys. "Look at anything you want," he said, perhaps unnecessarily, but it was his nature to speak, to mutter nervously and attempt small talk.

It did. It learned everything. Learned the shark's name and mission and disposition from the files. The crystalline organ on its breast processed all of this with machinelike efficiency.

Now the tentacles coiled along Kekoa's body. The shark winced, all three eyes squinting as the cold tendrils slithered and snaked across his hide. Their blunt tips brushed his head, prodded his mouth and anus and genital slit. Still the eyes were utterly emotionless, vaguely sinister, but Kekoa in his analytical way supposed he was anthropomorphizing what was simply a constant gathering of information, logical and without the window dressing of emotion.

"Don't hurt me, don't," Kekoa whispered, a hint of excitement in his voice. Was he aroused by this mindless probing? It was true, yes. His genital slit began to swell and warm over, looking quite vaginal for several seconds before the pair of penises within emerged.

The Deoxys ran its feelers over these new developments with what seemed to Kekoa as interest. And perhaps it was, but only in the most scientific way. The Pokemon was studying him, turning him over and over in the toothless grip of zero gravity to better inspect him. It looked at his feet, his face, his behind. It prodded the slit around the penises, drove a tentacle in around them, and listened impassively to the moans the shark emitted.

It pushed a tentacle to the shark's anus. Kekoa bleated, "Oh-, oh, you don't realize what you're doing. You don't-." Inside went the tentacle, thick and orange and fleshlike. It writhed into Kekoa, spiraling and straightening repetitiously to dig itself deeper. Kekoa's groans elicited a subtle tilt of the Deoxys' head.

Preseminal fluid began to leak from the shark's twin penises. It floated in the open air, beading and wobbling, drawn inextricably towards the soft pull of the scrubbers. The Deoxys felt around the penises with its tentacles, one tendril for each cock. It gripped the shafts, squeezed and kneaded them so firmly and purposefully that the shark believed the Pokemon understood what it was doing. It was attempting to have sex.

"The files," Kekoa whispered, his cheeks red and hot. "The files, you read our history, you saw-, about sex, you know-." A tentacle, this one blue, slithered into the shark's maw. Over his tongue it went, depressing the muscle. And then down his throat, sliding down, gagging Kekoa once only because of the surprise of the penetration. Its surface was glass-smooth, no lubrication required to prevent friction. It curled and uncurled rhythmically inside of the shark's throat. Deep in the shark's behind, another tentacle performed the same dance. The two tentacles caressing his penises quickened their tugs and squeezes.

A groan rumbled in the shark's breast. His smile was wide, queerly pleased. Cameras throughout the station recorded the encounter to be beamed back home when Earth was in view again.

Saliva and precum hung in the air. It was no concern to Kekoa. He knew the scrubbers were made to take on moisture, filter it, turn it into drinkable water eventually. His bodily fluids were no different. He looked longingly at the Deoxys and felt a peculiar lust for its severe, blunt body. Its lack of sexual characteristics did not detract from his lust; he would have licked it, ground against it, welcomed it in any way possible. But the tentacles - those were excellent. Science gone awry or not, the tentacles were proof that it was intelligent and that it could love in its own way.

The alien creature retracted its tentacles, drew him nearer. The gap between their bodies was less than two feet apart now. Within Kekoa the tentacles swirled and twisted, pumping and pulling, fucking him coldly with a conception of sex both bizarre and wonderful. The shark's penises throbbed fat with blood, moisture oozing from the tips.

The Deoxys' eyes dispassionately scanned the fluids. Its immense psychic powers were used to corral the liquid leaking from the shark's penises. It brought them into a spherical shape, held them in an invisible grip, and continually added to the sphere.

The Deoxys, like Kekoa, had a third eye - but its third eye was metaphorical, the vision granted by its psychic abilities. As its physical form stimulated the shark, its mental form ventured inside. It looked over every aspect of the shark's innards, organs and tissues and fluids and bones. It understood the organic creature in an instant. It found the testes hidden within the body. And it began to prod the tender glands, as its tentacles prodded the prostate gland through the anus.

Kekoa shuddered, moaned. He tensed and pawed at the tentacle in his mouth. All three of his eyes stared half-lidded at the Deoxys. His thoughts thanked the Pokemon again and again as if locked in a mantra. The Pokemon understood the meaning of the words but was not scintillated by them. It only molested the shark inside and out, curious to experience this release, this orgasm, this climax the pornography and its literature described.

Harder, thought Kekoa, unaware of the Deoxys reading his thoughts. Oh, please, harder.

Harder - stiffer? No. Wrong context. Harder - more violent. It dug its tentacle deeper into the shark, pushing harder on tender anal flesh, curling and uncurling, grinding. Masturbating him quickly, fucking his throat. Still collecting the fluids, still prodding the testes within. The two fertile glands were unused to being touched. Kekoa writhed in the weightless space of the station, crooning blissfully, clenching his throat and his anus around the implacable tentacles.

A jumble of thoughts rushed the Deoxys as Kekoa's climax began. Words without apparent meaning, just appeals to higher powers and wonderment at the raw pleasure he experienced. Pleasure - a concept the Deoxys understood only clinically. But the change in the shark was remarkable. The Pokemon observed with eyes physical and mental as the heart rate quickened to a wild thud, the muscles tensed, and hormones released into the bloodstream.

Twin jets of semen erupted from the shark's penises. These too were captured and pressed into the ever-growing sphere of musky fluids which the Deoxys maintained with its powers. Kekoa moaned and writhed and thrashed, his smile enormous, his three eyes clenched tight.

Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, thought the shark. The Deoxys believed this was linked to the pleasure. It placed the context and deduced that the shark was speaking out of gratification.

It thought of the pornography as the ball, now dominantly composed of salty, white semen, further coalesced. This was the point where the dominant party inseminated the submissive party. The Deoxys had no sexual organs - but it did have access to seed now.

The shark could not be impregnated, he had no vagina, so the Pokemon selected a hole at random. It withdrew the tentacle from the shark's maw as well as those molesting his penises. These three ropey limbs held apart the jaws and restrained the arms so as to prevent their interference. The seeding, as seemed evident, was critically important.

Kekoa watched, mouth forcibly gaped and eyes wide and rapt, as his own semen - in a sphere roughly as large as an activated Pokeball - rushed towards his own maw. In went the entire mass, splashing over his tongue, subjecting him to the salty-musky flavor which he often enjoyed during sex and masturbation. A lewd and mildly submissive moan escaped as the cum forced its way down his throat. Still deeper it went, smearing out as it went until there was nothing left for the Deoxys to force inside.

The shark swallowed, his eyes fixed on the cold-eyed alien creature. His thoughts were a jumbled mass of confusion. What would mission control make of this encounter? Already he was thinking of excuses and sheepish explanations.

The Pokemon relinquished him. Had he not been in space, Kekoa would have fallen slack. He hung there, staring at the Pokemon, now less certain of the Deoxys and its motives than ever.

For a moment the Pokemon studied him. Its head tilted slightly. A tentacle brushed over Kekoa's breast, seeming almost languid to Kekoa's emotional senses. And then the Deoxys slipped into the airlock, cycled it, and was off into the cold blackness again.