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Palorn let his facade drop only when the elevator doors had closed. A stoic expression and upright posture faded almost instantly in favor of fatigue and mild self-recrimination. He set the controls to take him up to the Captain's cabin - his cabin - and felt almost pleased that their quarry had eluded them once again. Slavers they may be, and try to pillage again they most certainly would, but at least the interval would allow him time to relax.

Almost unconsciously, he ran a hand along the inside of the elevator, letting his talons click along the smooth curves of the ship, of his ship, the Imminent Hunter. The first vessel he ever commanded as a part of the turian military and now his freelancer warship. It held a dozen crew members and a VI, all specialists, and all individuals he would gladly follow into death. They were enough of a force, however, that this had not yet become necessary.

The door slid open, and he stepped into his room. It was modest, containing a shower, a bed, a desk, and a view out into the stars. And now, it also contained a turian aside from himself. Taren was sitting at the foot of the bed, reading over a datapad. More than likely, he was catching a few crucial minutes at his 'station', disseminating enemy foot tactics and transmissions. If it had been anyone else, Palorn would have asked what they were doing there. In this case, however, he didn't need to ask, and his pulse quickened.

"Anything new?" he asked casually, moving to sit next to the Lieutenant. He leaned forward and began removing his foots, which he ruefully noted had been rubbing against his right foot, which still hadn't recovered from the poison that had been injected there the week prior.

He could tell that Taren was trying to keep his composure, but his hands had started vibrating and his mandibles were moving out and in with little rhyme or reason. "Not as yet," he said, his voice a good deal more measured than his body language would suggest. "I don't see anything that separates them from any other slaver gang."

Palorn reached around his subordinate's shoulder and plucked the datapad away to little resistance, then rested his arm languidly in the same place. "On the one hand, you may want to run calculations to see if they have a Revenant aboard, like Kaush said they did."

"On the other..." Taren continued for him, his mandibles twitching again, but this time into a soft smile. "That can wait, correct?"

"For a while yet, yes," Palorn murmured, leaning his head in to nuzzle against the younger turian's neck. He always savored these moments, when the pair had some time alone to...blow off steam together. Given how the ship ran, he would have considered making their relationship an open secret, but his reputation got in the way. He treated his crew like his family; he was a father to his men. And that attitude, he felt, could raise uncomfortable questions if anyone else learned that he was sleeping with his Information Officer.

His heart, however, regardless of these circumstances, was set. Spending an evening in Taren's arms was his favorite pastime, and if he hadn't been sure whether he truly loved the LT when their relationship started, all doubts had long since vanished. Moreover, the feeling was definitely mutual.

Taren purred softly as he turned, meeting Palorn's mouth midway and turning his head to have better access. The kiss was unorthodox, but the taste of his tongue was a sensation Palorn was certain even Atix' dishes couldn't match.

While their faces were busy, their hands roamed each other's body, unclasping armor and stripping clothes in a dance they were now well-acquainted with. Within moments, not a shred of cloth nor metal stood between their scales, and the lovers took full advantage of this fact. Palorn pushed Taren back gently, straddling him on the center of the bed. Taren's cherry red length was beginning to peek out of its sheath, but Palorn's violet member, more pent up than usually, was already at full mast.

No matter, Palorn thought idly. There was plenty of time to remedy that issue. Their tongues continued their tug-of-war with one another, and Palorn spread his partner's legs apart to perform what he jokingly referred to as a 'surprise inspection'. His talons trailed gently over Taren's tip (he felt the organ tremble at his touch and grow with more pronounced speed) and down the shaft, passing down the sheath and even further, where he felt a slightly damp sensation.

His mind trilled at the discovery; if he'd bothered to bring his hand up to judge the scent, he could have caught the ardac blossoms laced with virile male musk which meant that Taren had cleaned himself thoroughly for the occasion. He pulled himself away from their oral meeting and locked green eyes with his own orange. "You came prepared," he growled. "Good. I hope you're ready."

"I'm always at your command, Captain," Taren said, holding a smoldering, 'come-hither' expression that he was a master of, and spread his legs even further apart.

Not one to waste time, Palorn moved his hips back and rested his tip against Taren's entrance. The bit slid right in with no trouble which, given his girth, was no small feat. Clearly, the soap/lube that they were so fond of using had done its work yet again.

Growling huskily, Palorn wormed his way in, delighting in the way that Taren's moans reached his ears. The Lieutenant was hot and tight as hell, an absolutely heavenly sensation that tested the limits of Palorn's endurance from the get-go. His diamond-hard cock spat pre into his depths like cannon fire, and on the surface, Taren's manhood was drooling almost as much as he was.

"Oh-h-h-h, spirits..." Taren gasped, lost in ecstasy. "H-harderrr..."

The Captain obliged, slamming into the hilt now with each thrust, assault every sweet spot that Taren's hole, which was hugging his dick as tightly as his arms were now wrapped around his waist, had to offer. From their first sexual encounter in the shower, their methods had rarely changed - it was hard, it was hot, it was vanilla, and they loved it (and each other) to pieces.

Long minutes passed as Palorn focused on his motions instead of the intense pleasure he was receiving: in and out and in again. The insides of Taren's ass had begun clenching down on his spasmodically, so he knew they were both close. He leaned forward, putting his mouth right next to Taren's ear, and picked up the pace, fucking the absolute hell out of him. "F-fuck..." he hissed.

"Cumming..." Taren warned, moving his hands down to coax out his release.

"H-hold it." Palorn warned, then he groaned loudly and hilted himself one last time, spilling his load deep into the turian beneath him. "W-want to have you..."

When he was spent, he glanced down and was delighted to find that, despite the massive amount of pre that caked his dick and chest, Taren hadn't cum yet. Slowly, teasingly, he pulled out and slithered down until his head was level with Taren's groin. He engulfed the whole rod without preamble, careful to mind his teeth, and almost immediately he received his creamy reward. Based on the sheer size, Palorn guessed that his partner had been without almost as long as he had.

He raised his eyes up to see Taren's, glazed over with rapture. He held the seed in his mouth and moved down further still, lapping up his own excess fluids dripping from the LT's used hole. Then he returned to their original position, and they embraced tightly, sharing the fruits of their combined effort. Palorn pulled back to regain eye contact, blissfully unaware of the strand of cum that still clung to one of his mandibles.

"I'm not done with you, yet," he said, sliding smoothly into his dominant role.

Taren reached up to wipe the seed off Palorn's face, and licked his talon clean slowly, sensually. "I'd have expected nothing less...Captain."

More to come. Not necessarily soon.