Something or Someone
DISCLAIMER THINGY-
Man, it's been way too long since I uploaded anything... Anyway, this story came about from my love of science fiction, especially things like the original Star Wars trilogy. (Not the crappy new ones.) It does contain gay yiff, so if you don't like that sort of thing, don't read it. I hope you all enjoy it, and look forward to your comments and critiques.
"Sir, we have another vessel on our scanners." Maxwell Hites, captain of the Kestrel, a cargo ship turned pirate vessel, sat up in his command chair. The Kestrel was currently moving through sector four of the Orion galaxy, a sector largely dominated by criminal vessels, like his own, who were hiding from the tyrannical hand of the Federation of Civilized Planets, a militant government body that had forcefully seized power throughout the Orion galaxy almost a decade earlier.
"What kind of ship is it? Unless it's Federation, we can leave 'em alone." Lieutenant Jenkins, the great dane comms officer, ran another scan.
"It's putting out Federation military communications." Maxwell sat back in his chair. The Federation was known to send the occasional bounty hunting party into sector four, but never a lone ship. The panther scratched his neck thoughtfully.
"Keep scanning. I want to know what kind of ship it is, and it's probable crew and captain." A few silent minutes passed as Jenkins renewed the scan.
"Got it. Wait, that can't be right."
"What is it?"
"According to the scan, it's a first generation Avenger class battle cruiser."
"You're kidding. I thought they took those old tubs out of service." Jenkins shrugged.
"I guess not all of 'em were scrapped." The great dane checked the scanners again. "It's broadcasting as the FCP Truth. Probable crew and captain..." The canine pored over the readouts on his computer screen for a moment. "Can't get much on the crew, but the captain is one Ibsen Daniels. I can't get anything else. Never heard of him, either. Probably just fresh blood right out of officer's school looking to prove his dick is bigger than everyone elses."
Maxwell laughed. "Probably. How long until they're within communication range?"
Jenkins checked the scanners once again. "They just entered." He paused. "They're hailing us now."
"Put it onscreen." The holo-projector above the Kestrel's control board flickered to life, showing a young, immaculately dressed fox with a captain's crest pinned to his Federation uniform.
"My name is captain Ibsen Daniels, of the FCP Truth. Your ship is entering an area that has recenlty been declared a no-fly zone by Federation command. Please turn around now, lest we be forced to open fire." Maxwell reclined in his chair, studying the fox for a moment. There was something about the vulpine's eyes, something that told of unknown sadness.
"Captain Daniels, this is Captain Hites, of the free-trade vessel Kestrel. We aknowledge your warning. Thank you." Daniels gave a curt nod, and the holoscreen flickered off.
"Are we turning around, Captain?" Maxwell rubbed his paws together, thinking.
"Yep. Disable auto-pilot. Turn all manual controls over to me." Jenkins nodded and punched a series of commands into his console, and, a moment later, the Kestrel's command board lit up. MANUAL CONTROL ENABLED flashed across the control console. Maxwell grabbed the rudder stick and the throttle. "You said that the Truth is a battle cruiser, correct?" Jenkins nodded. "Good. Cruisers like those are built for mid to long range. Up close, they're almost helpless. And a tub like an Avenger first gen don't have much speed. This shouldn't be too hard. Strap in." Jenkins flicked a switch and the ship's onboard siren warbled to life. Crewmen scrambled to their posts on the bridge, in the engine room and in the gunner's seats. "Hang on."
Suddenly, Maxwell rammed the throttle forward. The Kestrel's overclocked engines, previously running at a slow, steady cruising speed, roared to life. The converted cargo vessel lunged forward. The Truth followed suite, though at a slower pace. As soon as the distance between the two vessels had grown a bit more, Maxwell yanked the throttle back, cutting the engines. At the same time, he flicked a switch labeled "reverse thruster - left". The Kestrel shuddered to an abrupt, yet brief, halt before the panther rammed the throttle forward again.
With it's left reverse thruster activated, the Kestrel spun in a neat one hundred eighty degree about-face, whipping around to face the oncoming Truth. Maxwell throttled down again, flicked the thrusters back to "forward" and gunned the engines, racing toward the clunky Federation cruiser. "Fire all secondary weapons." Jenkins nodded at the command, and, a moment later, the Kestrel's quartet of laser cannons, two on each of the ship's stabilizer wings, opened fire, pouring a barrage of bright turqoise laser bolts towards the opposing vessel. The Truth shuddered under hundreds of minute impacts as the bolts found their target.
Before the Truth could retaliate, Maxwell yanked the control stick forward and to the left, pushing the Kestrel into a downward bank. The instant after the Kestrel cleared out of the Truth's firing line, a fullisade of yellow bolts whipped by, disappearing harmlessly into the black void of space. "Jenkins, run another scan. Make sure that the Truth is the only Federation ship nearby. We don't need any suprises."
Jenkins consulted the scanners again. "No other ships in the vicinity. Nearest Federation vessels would take about... four hours to get here, if they pushed their engines as fast as they could." Maxwell nodded.
"Good." The panther pulled the Kestrel out of it's bank, rolling so that the Truth was almost directly above them. The Federation cruiser, realizing the dire straits it was in, tried to turn hard to the right, it's outdated engines sputtering indignantly at the treatment. "Open main gun ports and prepare to fire. Aim to cripple, not destroy." Jenkins relayed the command to the gunners, and two gun ports on the Kestrel's hull slid open. Maxwell cut the throttle back and turned the ship to a slightly better firing angle. "Fire main guns."
Two ion torpedoes lept from their respective gun ports and streaked toward the Truth. An instant later, the torpedoes tore into the opposing vessel, releasing and combusting the compressed air inside the ship in two bright puffs of flame. The Truth's engines faltered, then cut out completely, leaving the ship to float dead, but largely intact. "Jenkins, open a comms channel to the Truth." The great dane nodded, and Maxwell's holoscreen flickered to life, showing Captain Daniels, a look of humiliated defeat mixing with the strange sadness in his eyes.
"Captain Daniels, I apologize for the inconvienience, but I request your surrender. If you refuse, your vessel will be destroyed." The fox nodded sadly.
"You have my surrender, then, on behalf of my crew." Maxwell nodded.
"Good. We will be boarding your vessel shortly. I would like to speak in private once we have boarded." Daniels sighed and nodded.
"That is acceptable." Maxwell cut off the holoscreen and brought the Kestrel around, positioning it directly over the crippled cruiser. He set the auto pilot to hold position and stood up.
"Call up the boarding party. I'll be going as well. Instruct everyone to carry minimal weaponry. They've already surrendered. We don't need to bully them." Jenkins nodded and sent out the command. Maxwell left the bridge, heading down into the ship's cargo bay. He donned a space suit over his clothes, as did the other members of the six man boarding party. An alarm sounded once they were all suited up, and the cargo doors slid open. A heavy cable was dropped out the door, and attached itself to the Truth by way of a weighted magnet. One by one, Maxwell's boarding party clipped themselves to the cable and slid effortlessly down. The Truth's top maintenance hatch was quickly opened, and the crew dropped down into the cruiser, sealing the hatch behind them.
Once inside, they waited for a few moments for the air within the ship to re-compress, and then removed their helmets and space suits, stacking them against the wall of the small maintenance corridor. Maxwell pulled a small radio off of his belt and set it to transmit back to the Kestrel. "We're onboard, Jenkins. Inform Captain Daniels." The great dane responded in the affirmative, and the boarding party set off down the narrow corridor. At the end was a heavy steel door that slid open as they approached. They crossed the threshold into the Truth's main hall.
A party of almost a dozen soldiers, led by Captain Daniels, met them a short distance down the hall. "Captain Hines, my ship is yours and our surrender absolute. I beg you to not commit more bloodshed." Maxwell nodded.
"No violence will be committed against you or your crew, Captain, unless provoked by your own crew. That, I promise you. Now, as I said in our previous conversation, I would like to talk privately." The young fox nodded.
"Follow me. We can talk in my quarters." The vulpine led the panther further down the hallway as the Kestrel's boarding party began confiscating weapons and ammunition from the Truth's crew and armory. Maxwell followed his guide through the cruiser's labrynthine halls for a full five minutes before coming to a halt in front of Captain Daniels' quarters. The fox unlocked the door, and Maxwell followed him inside.
Inside, the room was comfortable, yet sparsely furnished. A bed was tucked away in the far left corner, while a coffee table, couch and recliner adorned the center of the room. The left-hand wall featured a door that led to the quarter's bathroom, while a door on the opposite wall led to a small galley.
Captain Daniels stopped in the middle of the room and sank into the threadbare recliner. Maxwell remained standing. "So, Captain Hines, may I ask what you wanted to talk about in private?" The panther nodded.
"Actually, I wanted to ask why you ended up out here, in the most dangerous place in the Orion, flying a rustbucket like this with no backup. You must have really pissed off someone." The fox tensed, his jaw clenching.
"That's none of your business, Captain." Maxwell ignored him and kept talking.
"There are a handful of so-called 'crimes' that would warrant such treatment by the Federation. However, I've pinpointed one in particular that seems likely. May I venture a guess, Ibsen? Can I call you Ibsen if I let you call me Maxwell?"
The fox rubbed his eyes with one weary paw. "Fine. Call me whatever you want. Go ahead and guess, then leave, please." A slow smile broke over Maxwell's face.
"Fair enough. Well, then, here's my guess." Suddenly, the panther lunged forward, his left paw grabbing Ibsen by the collar of his uniform, while his right paw plunged downward into the fox's pants, gripping the fox's member firmly, yet gently. The vulpine yelped in suprise, but, instead of pulling away, he gave a short instinctual thrust into the panther's intruding paw. Maxwell grinned and gave the fox's hardening shaft a quick squeeze before removing his paw. The panther released Ibsen's collar, then sat down on the couch across from the fox.
Ibsen's whole body was trembling, and a humiliated blush was rising through the white fur on his face. "Shh... It's alright, Ibsen. I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to know why you fight for a government that hates what you are." Ibsen's jaw trembled, but he didn't respond. Maxwell reached out and laid his paw gently against the fox's blushing cheek. "Tell me."
Ibsen swallowed a lump in his throat and looked up at the panther. Tears had formed in his eyes, and his voice shook as he slowly began to speak.
"I graduated from the Academy at the top of my class, about a year ago. Because of my scores, I was almost instantly given a ship to command. For a while, everything was great. I just commanded my ship and flew, and I was happy. Then, about three months ago, I was on shore leave with my crew. I was drinking in a bar near the port, and I met a stallion about my age. He was looking for a good lay, and I was looking for some company. We snook out of the bar and went to a seedy hotel down the street. I thought that no one had seen us leave together, but I was wrong. Another officer saw me leave with the stallion and followed us. About the time that the stallion... forgive me, I never caught his name." The fox smiled wryly before continuing. "About the time he was balls deep in me, Federation military police kicked the door in." Ibsen's voice, which had become steadily stronger, suddenly faltered again. "They... they drug the stallion outside, in public, and called everyone in the hotel to gather there, under threat of execution. They denounced the stallion, calling both him and myself 'abominations against the natural order'. Then, they shot him. Three shots. One in each knee and one in the gut. Then..." Ibsen's voice broke completely and he cried silently to himself for a minute while Maxwell stroked his tear-streaked face.
The panther moved his paw down to the vulpine's back, intending to rub it for him. As soon as his paw touched Ibsen's back, however, the fox shied away almost cringing against the arm of his chair. "Ibsen? What's wrong? I'm not trying to hurt you." The fox shook his head, clamping his jaw shut, refusing to speak. Maxwell growled at the smaller male. "Ibsen, what's wrong?" The fox shut his eyes, trembling. Maxwell made another move at the fox's back, and this time he didn't shy away. The panther placed his paw on Ibsen's back, immediately feeling a rough line of thick welts under his uniform. "What did they do, Ibsen?" Tears streamed down the fox's face as he allowed Maxwell to unbutton his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. As the vulpine's back was revealed, the panther growled in angry disgust.
Dozens of angry red lacerations and welts covered the fox's back from top to bottom. Several of the wounds looked on the verge of infection, and many more were scabbed over and no doubt still tender. Maxwell grabbed his radio from his belt and hailed Jensen again. "Jensen, send someone to Captain Daniels' quarters with ointment, bandages, a bottle of wine from my personal stash, and two glasses." A moment later, Jensen's voice returned.
"Yes, sir. Did something happen?"
"Don't worry about it."
"Yes, sir."
Maxwell clipped the radio back to his belt and sat back down on the worn couch. "So... what happened after they caught you? If you don't mind me asking. If you don't want to talk, you don't have too." The fox took a deep breath and continued his story.
"After they shot the stallion, they left him for dead. The hung a sign around his neck that said if anyone helped him, they would be arrested for aiding and abetting a criminal. They took me back to the port and locked me up in the brig of my own ship. I was locked up for over a month while they set a date for my court martial. The trial, of course was a waste of time. I was guilty the minute the MPs kicked down that door. When the trial was completed, about two and a half weeks ago, I was sentenced to be publicly flogged. Sixty lashes. Part of the punishment was that I was barred from all medical facilities and personnel, both military and civilian. Then, they gave me this rustbucket of a ship, the most incompetent crew they could dig up, and sent me to the most dangerous sector of the Orion. I was sent off on suicide patrol, more or less. They wanted me to get killed, but didn't want to execute me. This was their best option."
A knock on the door interrupted the fox's monologue. Maxwell walked over and opened the door. He accepted the items he had requested from the crewman who had brought them, then closed the door. "Turn so I can get to your back easier." Ibsen obliged, and the panther opened the small, plastic tub of ointment. He scooped some out of the tub and gently began to rub it across Ibsen's back. The fox flinched away at first, but, under Maxwell's gentle ministrations, relaxed and let the feline work. When he was done with the ointment, he quickly bandaged the wounds. "You'll have to change the dressing every day. Don't forget."
Suddenly, acting on a whim, Ibsen turned quickly and landed a hard, passionate kiss on the panther's mouth. After an initial moment of suprised shock, the panther returned the kiss. Ibsen rose from his chair, bringing the panther up with him. He broke the kiss, blushing furiously. "Sorry."
Maxwell smiled. "You're cute when you're embarrassed." Maxwell felt Ibsen's paw tracing a slow line down his chest and stomach as they locked in another kiss. The fox's paw found the zipper of Maxwell's pants, and slowly unzipped them. The button above the zipper came next, and the panther's pants dropped to the floor. Maxwell returned the action, unbuttoning and unzipping the vulpine's pants, which quickly joined his own on the floor. Two pairs of boots followed, then two pairs of boxers, and finally Maxwell's shirt joined the pile.
The two captains embraced briefly, then Ibsen turned and bent over the back of the recliner. His russet and white tail lifted, flicking seductively, revealing his tight tailhole. Maxwell slowly stroked the fox's thigh, his barbed member quickly rising to full mast. "Are you sure, Ibsen?" The fox nodded.
"I need this." The panther picked up the tub of ointment off of the coffee table and lubed himself with it quickly.
"Alright. Don't let me hurt you." With that, the feline pushed his hard shaft against the vulpine's tight bud. The fox relaxed himself, and Maxwell's cock slid easily into his partner. Ibsen let out a soft gasp as the panther slowly entered him. Maxwell waited for almost a full minute, letting the smaller male grow accustomed to the pressure in his rectum, and then slowly withdrew almost to the tip of his shaft, then thrust in again, faster this time. He withdrew and plunged in several more times, slowly gaining speed. The fox began to thrust back against him, matching his rythym.
For several minutes, the only sounds in the room came from the duo; soft pants, aroused groans and passionate moans. Ibsen's right paw crept downward to his own erect member, and he began to stroke himself. Maxwell quickly pushed his partner's paw aside and took over, stroking his lover's cock slowly and passionately as they continued to thrust against each other.
The panther's pace quickened, and the fox matched him once again. Maxwell could feel himself getting close to his climax. Ibsen could feel the feline's approaching climax and thrust harder against him.
Suddenly, Maxwell let out a long, lewd moan as he came, pumping his feline seed deep into the fox's bowels. The vulpine's sphincter muscles clenched and tightened around Maxwell's shaft, milking him for all he was worth. When the last spurt of semen had left the feline's shaft, he slowly withdrew. A small trickle of Maxwell's cum dribbled out of the fox's tailhole, running slowly down the inside of his thigh. Still aroused, he pushed on the fox's leg. "Turn around. You didn't get to finish." The fox turned, leaning lightly against the back of the recliner, careful not to let his sore back rub against it.
Maxwell dropped to his knees. His rough, feline tongue stroked along Ibsen's hot shaft, tasting the precum that had accumulated there. Ibsen moaned as the panther took the vulpine cock in his mouth. He sucked at it gently, then began to bob his head up and down, continuing to lap at his lover's cocktip with his tongue.
Ibsen's left paw moved down to rest on the feline's head. As he gently thrust against the panther's muzzle, he stroked the feline's black fur, lost in total bliss.
Maxwell could feel the fox's climax approaching. "M-Maxwell.... I'm close. Where do you...?" At that moment, Maxwell deep-throated the fox, letting his throat muscles squeeze against the hard flesh, then pulled his head back as Ibsen let out a yelp of climax.
Hot fox cum splashed across the panther's face, contrasting starkly with his black fur. He squeezed Ibsen's cock, elliciting another hot spray of salty fox milk. The panther lowered his cum soaked face to his partner's shaft and lapped up the remainder of the fox's load from his cocktip.
Maxwell stood, and the two lovers embraced. "Do you want to come with me? We can tow your ship, once we launch the crew and the onboard distress beacon off in the escape pods."
Ibsen nodded sleepily. "Yeah. I would love that." The two kissed again, and Maxwell picked up his radio.
"Jenkins, put the Truth's crew in the escape pods, along with the ship's distress beacon. Then, attach the tow harpoons. We're bringing Ib-... I mean, Captain Daniels, and the Truth with us."
"Are we holding him hostage, sir?"
The panther laughed. "No. He's coming of his own free will."
There was a brief silence, then Jensen responded, trying to supress a laugh. "Found something you like, Captain?"
Maxwell looked up at Ibsen, who had stumbled across the room and collapsed on the bed. "No, Jensen, not something I like. Something, or rather someone, I love." Maxwell turned off the radio and walked across the room, joining his mate on the bed. They both embraced drowsily, then drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.