FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Luminous slid smoothly through orbit, above a world with purple seas. Lavender, orchid-colored waters stirring beneath skies to match. The ship was a week out of dry-dock, and its first 'away mission' was nearly in the books ...

"Anyone else wanna look?"

Field shook his head, frowning. He was bathed in shadow, in firelight. And with his fur being a golden-hued honey-wheat in the first place? He cut a glowing, romantic figure amidst the perimeter darkness. His ears were silhouetted, too, which only accentuated the effect.

Your lobes look like solar eclipses. Adelaide. In telepathic thought-speak. Trying to turn his frown 'upside-down.'

It kinda worked. He bit his lip, though, with those big rodent buckteeth. Trying to fight the smile off. Sniffing at his food (which had been the original source of his frowning).

"No takers?" asked Ketchy. A squirrel. One paw on the telescope, the other gesturing from one fur to another. "It's beautiful."

"I saw it this morning," Rella replied, poking at her rations. "In the fur."

"Come on, guys ... "

"I am not a guy," was Assumpta, the snow leopard's, response.

"Well, it's ... you know what I mean. It's just a generic way of saying 'you all.' Anyway, that's not the point. I'm trying to ... I found our ship on the telescope," Ketchy said, voice trailing. She sighed and rolled her eyes. Sitting down. "Fine ... "

"I'll look," relented Field, still sniffing his food.

"Too late, now," Ketchy said. "Moment's passed."

"Which is more than I can say of the moon," Adelaide piped in. She was sitting next to Field. Their shoulders were practically touching.

"The moon?" went Assumpta, with disdain.

"It's beaming bright," responded the bat, craning her neck upward. "Such a white, creamy light. I love a good moon. Especially a full one."

"Is that because bats are vampires?" the feline prodded.

"Only when we want to be," was Adelaide's enigmatic response.

"Furs," injected Ketchy, trying to be the peaceable one. "Furs, come on. No need to be tense."

"How can you not be," Field muttered, "when you have to eat field rations? Why don't they equip shuttle-pods with food processors?"

"Heh," chuckled Rella. "Hey, Field. They name this stuff after you, then? 'Field' rations?" She didn't know what hers was supposed to be, but it wasn't doing anything for her.

The mouse didn't respond to that. Other than to give a simple, "No."

"I thought mouses liked cheesy jokes," the squirrel mock-pouted.

"We do. I'm just cheesed out."

"Impossible," Adelaide injected, with a knowing grin.

Field hid his smile, mumbling, "Mm, don't you start ... "

Assumpta, one of the ship's few predators, sat quietly while the others chatted. They were blabbing, making small-talk. It was what prey species did when they were nervous. Which, basically, was all the time.

Adelaide flashed her a squinty-eyed glare.

The feline purred back enigmatically. Feeling that the bat was more tuned to her than was natural. More tuned to everyone. To that mouse, especially. The leopard wouldn't have been surprised if the bat had some sort of mental power. She was too confident not to have an advantage over everyone around her. Assumpta knew how that felt. Having spent the past year as a predator amongst prey. I'm stronger than all of them. They all respect that. Except for the damn bat.

The snow leopard was a loner. Icy, on the surface. Had accepted this mission to get away from things. This was the newest, best ship in the fleet, and headed for deep space. Even if the whole affair was meant as an appeasement to the rodents, she could tolerate it. It was better than being back home. Where no one wanted her ...

"So, you were hinting ... just a minute ago, I mean. That you don't like the moon?" Adelaide asked Assumpta.

"Moons. Plural. Any of them."

"That's silly."

"They are too bright."

"That's what makes them beautiful."

"I have eyes for darkness," the leopard replied. "It's an edge. Nature gave it to me ... and nature takes it away. If I wish to direct my ambivalence at the moon, I shall."

"Optimism adds seven years to your life."

The cat closed her eyes lazily. "A stat invented by an optimist." If this bat was seeking to tame or befriend her, she best stop. Not that Assumpta, in reality, could do anything, lest she be imprisoned or jettisoned on some hostile world. No, she would have to keep her instincts in check. But why did they demand on being so social? The only one (besides herself) who had any sense here was the mouse, who was remaining quiet and withdrawn, aside from stealing a glance, now and then, at the bat, and sniffing his food incessantly. They were all letting their guards down too easily. The mouse knew. He was in the presence of a cat, and more pressingly, was on an uninhabited, alien world. He knew that something deadly could come their way at any time. That was a healthy attitude to have. Nature wasn't anyone's friend.

They'd come down here, via shuttle-pod, earlier in the day. Morning, actually. And would be staying the night, after having collected many local fauna, making maps, searching for resources. They were camping in a clearing and would return to Luminous in the morning, and then proceed to an asteroid belt. This was simply a side-stop that Wren couldn't resist. Though, as Field had noted, the squirrel, as eager as he was to chart this place, hadn't ventured down himself. Had left it to his 'underlings.'

'You're not my underlings,' Wren had said, rolling his eyes.

'Well ... minions, then.'

Now, though, Field was nibbling on his rations and staring at the flames of the fire. How they flapped and shivered and quivered. As if the fire was alive. It was hypnotizing to watch. Field imagined that the flames were dancing. Were trying to charm him to sleep. And, when he slept, they would steal all the field rations and gobble them up. And maybe take their shuttle-pod and fly into the sun. Joining a brighter, greater flame. (Field had a limitless imagination.)

Adelaide blinked, looking to the mouse. So cute, she thought-spoke to him.

He blushed happily beneath his honey-tan fur, continuing to watch the flames.

And she, wistfully, the moon.

Field rarely remembered his dreams. But tonight was different ...

... he was in a room with a plush bat hanging from a light fixture by rubber-band strings. And it moved like a pendulum. Whispering, "Just make it through the summer."

The mouse's ears swiveled. "What?"

"Make it through the summer," the voice continued to whisper. Almost chanting it.

"I heard you. I just ... what do you mean?" Twitching in confusion. He was associating the bat with Adelaide, of course. But soon realized: it was speaking with his own voice.

"Under electric moon!" crooned the plush bat.

Field frowned, blinking. The light in the room was now coming horizontal from the wall! And glowed the same pale-white the moon had been glowing.

"Under electric moon!"

And, those words, the three words, were joined by some kind of rhythm. Maybe it was music. The beating of his heart. Or hers. Adelaide's.

For she was behind him now, and they were bare, and they began making love in the open air. Outside somewhere, in the grass, in a pasture. Under apple trees. Past the sycamores. Near the creek.

Field's breath starting to run away from him. He didn't want to stop her. They were exposed, but he didn't care. And eyes half-open, he saw the lighting fixture, like a chandelier, still glowing like an electric moon, floating in the air, twenty feet up in the rural air. With no support whatsoever.

Cheese-flavored crackers, shaped like fish, swam through the waters of the creek (yet not getting soggy) as the mouse found himself on his back, staring up at that light-source. Whatever it was. The plush bat had disappeared as soon as Adelaide had shown up. Her deep-pink eyes were glinting, and she was grinding her fertile hips to his trimmer ones.

"Under electric moon," whispered a dragonfly, which flitted nearby. "Don't you think that we're so sad? Help us, Field. Help us catch the light ... "

"You can't catch the moon," he replied. "I don't ... m-mf ... " Nose flaring. Oh, god. This felt so good. " ... mm." Melting, now. All the weirdness falling aside in favor of her. His paws were all over the bat's backside.

Adelaide's pink, silky muzzle tilted and locked to his. In a kiss. Which began a journey of physical, emotional bliss. The kind that made toes curl and elicited throaty moans. "Hips," she whispered to his lips. "Hips ... "

He put his paws on her hips. On his back in the grass, in the tall, wild grass (where dandelions hid, both the white and yellow kind). Helping her to rise up. And lower down. Steering her as she rode him, gyrating like a cowgirl on a bull, hotly, wildly.

She arched, spreading her wings. Spreading her wings as if catching moon-rays. Feeling a rush of primal, animal power.

He squeaked.

She lowered her winged arms. Blunt-clawed paws tracing his lobes. As she hunched over, her 'biting instinct' kicking in. It would cement their union in such glorious ways, and ...

" ... the light," whispered the dragonfly, hovering beside one of Field's big, sensitive ears. As the electric moon went out. "The light comes. Capture it!"

The mouse, bewildered, panted back, "I'm ... trying to b-breed." A distracted squeak of pleasure. "Leave me alone!"

"Under electric ... "

His long, ropy tail snaked through the air, shooing the dragonfly away. But the ground began to shake. The air began to sizzle. Sitting up, in the fur, Field saw a shooting star plummet and hit the ground not fifty yards away. "Oh, my gosh!" he cried, wide-eyed. Squeaking and clutching at Adelaide, but felt no shockwave. No rumble. Nothing. How had a shooting star hit the ground so close to them without producing a shockwave?

Adelaide, cradling him, whispered sultrily, "It's just an old shuttle-pod." And she eyed the dragonfly just beyond her mate's ear and ... swiped for it! Got it. With one paw, too.

"What are you doing?" the mouse asked, whiskers twitching.

"I'm a bat, Field. We eat bugs. I'm an omnivore."

"Oh."

She chewed on the dragonfly, swallowed it. "Delicious."

The old ship, burned and battered, smoked from its resting spot on the other side of a fence that Field hadn't hitherto noticed. Something was alive in there. With many secrets, and ... and ... Adelaide bit him. And he arched, nakedly, fur matting with sweat, and ... it felt so, so good. He was going to ...

... gasp!

Snapping awake, with many twitches. His heart pounding and whiskers wild. Field swallowed. Oh, gosh. "My heart," he whispered, weakly. Like it was going to leap out of his chest! Come on ... breathe. Just calm down. Please? He nodded to himself. Looking around. Everyone was still in their private sleeping bags. No one stirring (only the mouse). And he looked up ... the moon? Still glowing. It was kind of electric, actually, now that he thought about it. Was there such thing as lunar power? A deep breath. No sign of dragonflies or anything else from the dream.

It had been so vivid, and ...

... oh. Boy.

Paw reaching down. A warm, matted feeling on his groin and thighs. A damp, sticky kind. Eh. A twitch. He was gonna have to shower. The others would all smell it on him, and he was too bashful to wanna deal with the teasing. Especially from Assumpta. So, carefully, he reached for his shirt (having been sleeping only in shorts, for modesty's sake). "Hate sleeping with clothes on," he muttered to himself, grumpily. Not to mention sleeping alone. He just didn't like it.

Less than a minute later, he was padding toward the shuttle-pod. There was a very small bathroom in there. With an even smaller shower. He left the pod door open, but closed the bathroom door. Wriggling out of his clothes. Stepping into the stream of hot water, shampooing all the, uh ... excitement. From his fur. Paws trembling as he remembered the intensity of the dream.

A knock on the bathroom door jarred him out of that revelry.

Field squeaked, dropping the soap. "W-what?" Holding his breath. Turning the water off. "Who is it?"

It's me. Adelaide's telepathic reply.

Field swallowed, opening the door. Barely. He poked his nose and head out. Whiskers sniffing.

A wry smile. "I've seen it before, Field. You can open the door wider than that."

And he did so, blushing (in the ears, notably).

"You alright?" she asked. Her angular ears sweeping back. And that short, rudder-ish tail doing a minimal amount of steering.

"I had a vivid dream."

A wet dream? Asking it privately.

He nodded.

She looked to the floor, scuffing her foot-paws. "Did it involve a dragonfly? And, uh ... electric moons? Something like that?"

He bit his lip. "Did you get that from my mind, just now, or ... "

" ... sorta. I think we had the same dream." A pause. "I know we did."

He glanced down. At her loins. And back up, quickly.

She chuckled. "Yeah ... "

A twitch. "It felt so real."

"Says the voice of experience," she teased, huskily, with a wink. They'd been breeding each other for the past few days. It just sorta kinda suddenly happened, you know? And then kinda kept happening. No one knew about it yet, but they weren't going to be able to hide it much longer. "You okay?"

"Yes." A shy, sweet little nod. "I, uh ... I love you."

"I love you, too," she breathed back, touching his bare belly. Feeling his fur. "The fact that we're sharing dreams means our 'bond' is starting to cement itself."

He wasn't sure what that meant. And the look on his face said so.

"Well, uh ... mm, it's a very complicated subject. And it's the middle of the night," she reminded.

"Tell me ... "

A short breath. "I was attracted to you when I first saw you. I think part of that was the draw of your mind. It's very layered, very philosophical ... " A sigh. " ... plus, you're fucking cute. So ... "

Blushing. Mumbling. "Adelaide ... "

" ... you know how I sometimes bite you during intercourse?"

A bashful nod.

"Well, my fangs are hollow, and, uh ... when I do that, a milky substance seeps out. Into your blood."

"What does it do?" A blink.

A winged arm around his back, now. Pulling him closer to her, in the doorway. "It enhances our bond."

"Like an aphrodisiac?"

"In a way." A pause. "It leaves little telepathic receptors in your brain. The more that build up, the more I'm linked to you, and ... the more you're linked to me," she whispered.

The mouse blinked. "So, we're becoming addicted to each other?"

"Well, the stronger the link, the greater the pleasure. The fuller the intimacy. But, yes, technically, addiction would be an accurate term. I don't have to bite you every time. Just ... kinda like doing it," she mumbled. "It's just ... it sounds weirder than it really is."

"I'm not a bat," he said, self-consciously. "I can't bite you back."

"But you can nibble," she said, licking her lips, suggestively. "Anyway, I've always liked mouses. My mouse. My mate," she soothed, privately.

He smiled in relief. "So, what did the dream mean, you think? Anything?"

Putting both her wing-tips on his wet, fur-matted chest, she whispered, "I think we can leave that one 'til morning."

"What if we share another dream when we go back to sleep?"

Then you might need another shower. A playful wink.

Morning came, and the team packed up, and the shuttle-pod headed back for Luminous ...

Rella was the last one to leave the pod. And as walked up the folding stairs in the shuttle-bay, reaching the upper decking, Wren pulled her aside. The captain, squirrel tail arched tensely behind him, whispered, "We have to talk."

Rella blinked at his brisk tone. "About what?"

"Where did he come from?" she asked. Five minutes later. In sickbay. Staring at an alien. On a bio-bed. She squinted, padding a step closer.

"Wouldn't do that," advised the doctor.

"Kody," said Wren.

"You wanted me to be your doctor? Then I think I'm in charge of medical matters."

"What is it?" Rella asked, cautiously.

"We don't know," Wren whispered. "Last night, we found a shuttle-pod. Adrift. We brought it aboard."

"I didn't see it in the bay," Rella insisted, confused. As the ship's tactical officer, it was her duty to know if any alien ships had been taken aboard.

"It has a cloak. We only found it cause it was fluctuating."

She frowned. "I don't understand ... "

Wren hesitated.

Kody didn't, however. "The ship, on the outside, looks barely big enough to squeeze into. It's in the corner of the bay."

"So, a miniature pod is cloaked in the corner of our shuttle-bay? Like a rusty old bike?" she asked.

"It's not rusty, believe me," said the white-furred rabbit. "And it's bigger on the inside than the outside. I swear, I nearly had a heart attack when Wren pushed me in ... which, by the way, should be worthy of reprimand."

"You were egging me on," the captain replied.

A not-so-innocent smile. "Or maybe you got frisky and couldn't keep your paws off me ... "

Rella interrupted them. "Bigger on the inside?"

" ... hmm?" The rabbit's tall ears twiddling. "Oh. Yeah ... it's as big as a palace. Defies the laws of physics."

"How is that possible?"

"I dunno. The same way it's possible that a comatose alien can be from five hundred years in the future. I had him quantum dated. I don't want to believe it, medically, but the scanners insist."

"Time travel's impossible," Wren said.

"I'm just the messenger," Kody said, holding his paws up, meandering back to his office. Still talking, though. "Rella, while you're here: can you get one of your engineers to fix my food processor? I can't get a decent glazed carrot out o' the thing. Tried some earlier ... not sweet enough."

"Don't listen to him," Wren said, dryly. To his fellow squirrel. He crossed his arms. Faced with a sudden, bizarre mystery. Only a few crew-furs knew about this, and he'd ordered them to stay silent. He didn't want news of this unorthodox alien spreading around the whole ship. He needed more information.

Rella took a step toward the unconscious alien. Whispering, slightly angry, "Why didn't you call me? You didn't you contact me? I'm the chief of security ... "

"It happened a few hours before you were due to return. And I didn't know what to tell you."

"Yeah, but ... "

The doors whooshed.

The two squirrels spun. Their tails still moving even after their bodies had stopped. (Making for an unintentionally adorable sight.)

Field paused in the doorway, wilting under their glares. "Um ... " He swallowed, standing on the tips of his bare foot-paws. Looking past them with a very innocent, mousey curiosity. He sniffed the air. "What's that?"

"Shut the door!" Wren hissed.

Field stepped forward, hesitating. He didn't like being yelled at. The doors swished shut. "What's wrong?"

"Secure the entrance, Rella. Please," Wren said, rubbing his forehead.

She nodded, doing so.

"Field, I need you to ... "

The mouse was ignoring his words. He stepped forward even more, blue-grey eyes widening. His mind all abuzz. He knew what this was. This was from his dream! This creature. The ship that had crashed in his dream, it belonged to this creature. The mouse let out a slow, baited breath. "I can feel something ... "

"Field ... "

The mouse stared at the creature on the bed. Covered in a blue medical sheet up to its belly. The first thing he noticed: it had no fur! Poor thing. (Or 'poor bastard,' as Kody had remarked upon first seeing it.) Only rough, little brown hairs here and there, thicker in spots. But, mostly, exposed flesh. With flat ears and a flat nose.

"That's a human," Field whispered. Certain of it.

Rella, in disbelief, whispered back, "A what? Human?" She pronounced it 'hew-mon.'

"How do you know that?" Wren asked.

The mouse gave no answer. Concentrating.

"Field!" demanded Wren.

The mouse twitched. Several times. "I don't know. I'm seeing things. I'm feeling things ... he wants to go home. They 'used' him. In experiments." Panting, lightly. " ... and I saw him in a dream. I watched his ship crashed on the planet. But if we've rescued him, then ... " A pause. " ... then maybe the dream didn't come true? It felt like a premonition. Maybe it wasn't."

"You're not making sense," Wren said, worriedly. He still cared very deeply for the mouse.

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," said Kody, back in view, "seeing as I was listening to every word. Look, Field." Paws on the mouse's arms. A small shiver. First time he'd touched him two years. " ... Field," the rabbit hushed. "Mouses don't have mental powers. And there's no such thing as 'human' in any known species database."

"But Adelaide has mental powers ... "

"Yeah? She's a bat."

The mouse's whiskers twitched. Burning up. He didn't want to have to admit this in front of Wren and Kody ...

" ... what's wrong?" the doctor asked.

"I've ... " Looking away from them. Taking a deep breath. " ... I've been breeding with Adelaide. We mated."

The two other males blinked. Both of them taken by surprise.

"Her telepathy channels through me, now, and combined with the weird properties of this local moon? I don't know what. I don't know why. But I did," the mouse insisted, "dream about this." Head spinning. He closed his eyes for a moment. "I feel what that alien is feeling. I know I do. I'm not crazy."

Rella quietly watched the three of them. They had a history. That much was becoming very evident. She almost felt like she should leave the room. Give them privacy or something, but ...

... Wren held up a paw at her. Indicating for her to stay put.

So, she did.

"Even if that's true," Kody said, composing himself much more quickly than Wren (who still seemed a little stunned that his first officer had taken a mate without telling him). "Even if that's true, how would you know it's a human?"

"I don't know." Whiskers twitching. "I'm scared ... "

The rabbit fought the urge to hug him. And, instead, just rubbed his shoulders. "I believe you," he breathed.

"You're just saying that ... "

"I believe you ... " Lifting the mouse's chin with his paw. " ... okay?"

A shy nod. Kody's familiar scent calming him.

Wren, flooded with a strange mixture of emotions, himself, said, "If we can, uh ... focus. On this. On the matter at paw ... "

Kody nodded, taking a step back.

"Guys," Rella said quietly. She stood above the comatose human. "Regardless of whether Field's right, that doesn't help us. I mean, the real problem is: what do we do with him? Keep him here? You said his ship was hundreds of years beyond our technology. And body scans were ... "

"Muddled," Wren replied.

"Inconclusive. But I can run more," Kody defended, rabbit ears waggling.

"We're prey," Rella stated. "We can sense danger. Don't tell me you don't feel it ... this creature radiates it. I say we post guards. Raise force-fields. Try to learn everything we can about his technology ... "

"That's your job, though. Security. Maybe you're just being paranoid," Kody continued.

"So, you believe Field, but you don't believe me?" she shot back. About to say something else, maybe something that crossed the line of good taste. But, thankfully, was prevented from doing so (barely) by an alarm klaxon. The ship shaking once, twice. Pretty firmly, too.

A chirrup. "Sir, you better get up here," came a voice over the comm. One of the bridge officers.

"Rella, you're with me. Field, you ... " About to order him to stay here, in sickbay. " ... just return to your quarters. Rest up. We'll have Kody run scans on you later, when this is all over."

The mouse nodded, self-consciously.

Kody sighed, rolling his neck.

And the two squirrels scampered for the bridge.

"Onscreen."

The image appeared. Of a needle-nosed ship, sleek and fast, changing colors between blue and green, like a chameleon. Shaped like a top. It zipped to their left. And another appeared at the right. A third coming from below them.

"Hail them," Wren ordered, standing behind the helm. Wearing a steely gaze.

"They're hailing us, sir," said Ketchy. She was the comm officer.

"Alright," Wren said slowly. "Put it on."

"It's audio only."

The squirrel nodded, impatiently. "Just put it on."

Ketchy did so, piping in the feed. And Wren's ears, as did Rella's, swiveled painfully at the harsh, raspy voice.

"You have a human aboard your ship. We want him. And we want his vessel. Give them over to us, and we won't destroy you."

"Who's 'we'?" Wren challenged.

"The Wasp Solidarity."

"Well, this is a vessel of the Furry Federation. This is my ship. If we did find anything," Wren responded, in the perfect mood to argue, "then it belongs to us."

"By what rights?"

"Salvage rights."

"That is unacceptable," the voice responded, with an arid buzz.

A warning shot was fired off the side of Luminous, right near the left warp nacelle.

"Give us the items."

"A living creature isn't an 'item'," Wren responded. "And I'm betting you won't destroy us as long as we have him onboard. You won't risk it. Not if you want him that bad ... "

"You do not understand what you are meddling in. You will be destroyed. No more warnings."

The channel was cut.

Ketchy shook her head. "They're blocking all signals. We can't even send out a distress call." There was worry in her voice.

Rella, at tactical, announced, "They've all targeted weapons on us ... sir ... "

"No one would get to us in time, anyway, and even if we could get a call out ... " Wren trailed, rethinking his position.

Rella shook her head, eyes widening. "You can't give him that ship! That's future technology. It could conceivably give whoever owns it an incredible deal of power."

"I won't get us all killed for a shuttle-pod and a comatose alien." His voice was resolute. Though frustrated. "I won't die for moral principles. Not today."

"How do we know they won't destroy us once we give them what they want?"

"Because we're gonna warp out of here while they tractor it in," Wren said. "Give them the ship. Put the alien on it and jettison the thing ... "

Rella hesitated.

"Do it," Wren ordered.

She nodded. Seeing a fierceness in the other squirrel's eyes. One that intimidated her. But she trusted him ...

... and, ten minutes later, the future ship floated out of the shuttle-bay, cart-wheeling into high orbit. With its brain-dead human pilot onboard. The three needle-nosed ships descended, like predators.

Rella shook her head. If only Wren had let them keep the ship, they could've harvested its parts. Shields. Maybe advanced sensors, weaponry.

"Sir, they're towing the ship toward the planet. I think they're going to land with it."

Rella blinked. "Like in Field's dream ... kind of."

Wren said nothing to that. Only, "Their ships are too small to take it aboard. They want to study it. Get inside it." An unhappy pause, feeling he'd just been involved in his first no-win scenario. "Get us out of here," Wren whispered to the helm. "Resume course for the asteroid belt."

The skunk at helm nodded. And turned the ship around, and they zoomed away. Leaving this mess momentarily behind.

Wren, later on, was in his office, trying to put the day behind him.

The door chime rung.

"Come in ... "

It whooshed open. Field stood tentatively in the doorway, prehensile tail whipping about with a nervous energy.

"It's okay," Wren said quietly.

The mouse padded in. The door shut. "If you want me to stop being with her ... "

"Field, I wouldn't do that to you. I wouldn't do that to anyone." The squirrel took a breath through the nose. But you did do that, didn't you? With him and Kody? He twitched. Painfully. "I'm sorry ... "

"For what?"

"Things." Making eye contact.

"I couldn't ever be mad at you, anyway."

"You've always been so gentle," Wren whispered. It was one of his best qualities. "Just don't let your relationship affect your work, okay?"

The mouse nodded quietly. "Of course."

"She's very pretty. Adelaide." A weak smile. "Very pink."

"I know." His dimples showing, cutely. Whiskers going.

The squirrel chuckled. It made him happy, somehow, to see the mouse happy. "Kody run scans on you?"

A shy nod. "Yes ... "

Wren didn't press about that.

"Whatever abilities I have, they've been less strong since we left that planet. The moon must've been a perfect conduit for, uh ... energies. Or something." Shifting his trim weight from one hip to the other. "There's still something there. Adelaide and I have a link, now, but ... " He trailed off.

Wren leaned back in his swivel-chair, nodding, looking out the window. At the stars going by. And looking back to Field. "I thought we were just launching a ship, you know. But each day that goes by? It becomes less and less about Luminous. More about the things we find. Both out there and in here. I guess that's why they call it a 'vessel.' It's just the stage for our adventures." A pause. "Is that too melodramatic?" Wren asked.

"I don't think so. But, then, my species isn't known for emotional restraint."

A smile. "Mm. No. But there's nothing wrong with that."

The mouse flushed, tugging at his own whiskers, unconsciously grooming them with his paws (licking his paws with his tongue, and then swiping at his whiskers). An animal habit.

"I always thought that was adorable ... "

The mouse stopped. Blushing. "You do the same thing with your tail."

"I guess I do."

"I'm gonna go," Field said, after a moment. "I'm having supper with Adelaide."

"In the mess hall?"

"Maybe."

"Well, if I don't see you this evening, I'll see you in the morning." The captain felt a pang of loneliness, suddenly. But he didn't let it show.

Field smiled one of those bright, bucktoothed, whiskery smiles. Nodding. And then left.

The squirrel let out a breath. He had some reports to write. To send back home. His superiors would wanna know about this. About all that had happened so far. But he didn't know how to explain it. So, he got up from his desk, stepping onto the bridge, himself. Rella was still there.

"You should be off-duty by now," he told her.

"Finishing up some things. I want to be ready in case of another attack." A pause. "Besides, the evening shift is five minutes late."

"We'll have to flog them good and proper," Wren joked. Truth be told, he didn't care. As long as they weren't too late.

"Well, I called them. All four of 'em. They said they're on their way."

"Probably 'being furs' or something." A very polite euphemism for 'having sex'.

"Probably. You know how furry ships are," Rella told him. "Most who go into deep space are single, and we're infamously sensual creatures. There's a massive 'pair-off' that first week. It's a documented phenomenon."

"So I'm finding out." This was his first deep-space venture. And he nodded quietly, in front of her console. "By the way, I wanted to have some tea or something in the mess ... "

"I don't like tea," she said.

His whiskers drooped, subtly.

A soft smile fading onto her muzzle, though. "But I'll have some juice."

He chuckled. A sigh of relief. "Okay ... "

"Just gotta wait for the next shift."

"Ah. Right." Blowing out a breath, he sank into his captain's chair. Smoothing the fur on his forearms. "Do you think if I locked them in the brig, that would be too harsh a lesson?"

Rella just laughed. And it was a very nice sound.