FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"As per Protocol established last month, Captain..." Spoke Glittermind, Her Ship's Computer

"You required that I ask you "Are you sure about this?" as soon as you started preflight checks on your away craft...."

The space skunk stopped for a moment, and a grimace crossed her face, but she kept her hands moving.

"Thank you, Glittermind, but I'm definitely sure about this. I am both, far more sober, and free of...entanglements...this time." she said, looking off to the side, her Tail frizzed out in embarrassment at past events that prompted her to institute this policy.

"I'm sorry Captain, but you've also ordered me to insistently and in your own words: "pointedly" ask you: "Am I hungry? angry? or tired?"

The Starflung Mephit, sighed. " Thank you, Glittermind. I am in fact, none of those things. I am however merely impatient, Ta!" She spoke, as she hit a button, triggering a hydraulic actuator, that opened the bay door, Waved to the Cameras, and dropped towards Venus.

The small away craft was all swoops and curvature, Alabaster and gold along it's control surfaces, Rolled to orient itself, nosing down, bringing the great blue and green curvature of the planet into view, The ship began to shudder and shake, a cone of crimson and orange sweeping over the view of her cockpit as she collided with the atmosphere, she leaned back in the chair, watching her altimeter, sliding a clawtip over the hardlight dial and adjusting an alert, as she took her hands from the controls, and put them over her head as she embraced the plummeting sensation that gradually started to grow more and more pronounced as she moved between the weightless band of the Venusian Exosphere.

The alarm chimed as the friction of re-entry began to slow, adjusting her pitch as she flickered a few toggles, and fired up the small craft's single thruster, a white pulse exploding and twining into a contrail off the tips of her craft's wings, as they spread open for atmospheric low-speed work, the Venusian sun glinting off the water below her, the planetward tug freefall replaced by the thunderous kabedon of inertial thrust, she playfully rolled the plane over a few times, and pitched down again, slowly tapping a few buttons and pulling up a preplanned navigation route, noting a few major geographical features, tall clifs covered in deep rainforest canopies, flocks of solar-powered Orinthropters moving above the treeline She nosed down further, bringing herself close to those glorious waves, the craft began to jump and shudder turbulently at the inconsistent ground effect over the ocean's surface. The enormous rooster-tail behind her ships passing grew in magnitude as she nosed up ever so slightly, till her shuttle steadied out. reaching down to gently cross off features on her route as she passed them.

She tapped the autopilot function and slowly reached down into her clevage, and pulled out the small bottle of nutritional slurry she'd taken with her, slowly unscrewing the cap and relaxing she steadied herself, and took a deep pull off it. The flavor was as if chalk was trying to translate a dream of a chocolate bar as told to it by grass. She grimmaced, but it was all she both could spare the budget for, and the only thing she felt safe eating in the shuttle while in flight. The fingers on her left hand gently clenched as she recalled the past loss of a perfectly nice demitasse, good coffee, and the blow to her ego alongside the scalding burns. One part of a catastrophic series of events that had prompted her to order Glittermind to question her back in the Belle Apoc's Launch bay.

She took another swig of what could almost be called her repast, and sealing the half empty bottle, slowly tucked it back into her cleavage. The medigel she'd previously added was nice, and she'd been getting used to the new heft. She caught herself blushing despite herself. This wasn't even the biggest she'd been before, but it was bigger than she'd been in a while and she couldn't lie, the shove of thrust against her chest, and the way they were tugged down by gravity in climbs, and the way they lifted in dives, and the sensation of her flesh stretching a she filled them up, never seemed to get old to her, no matter how many times she'd done it. And frankly it was part of what had brought her here today.

She checked off another geographical feature that she passed, and then, a blip on her ships sensors, comm-dark, lidar only. A large Structure, jutting up from the ocean, A sort of Terraced Pyramid, Copper and concrete, decorated with turquoise patina, with a copse of various trees growing along every terraced step. she dropped her speed as she nosed up, and sighting the tiny glowing lights around the landing pad as she passed, turned in a slow and graceful Immelmann turn, before cutting her engine completely and activating her repulsors, coasting in slowly, and gently lowering he shuttle into place.

"Still got it!" she thought to herself as she smiled. Taking this moment to strap her dress-shoes on, whilst the hexagonal pads of her craft's hovergantry deployed themselves from the side of the monocoque. flicking yet another switch overhead, the canopy retracted itself, and she stepped out, delicately descending each one of the pad. A voice called out to her as she approached.

"You owe me!" Shouted a voice, it's timbre full of faux irritation.

The Starflung Mephit smiled as she recognized it.

"Moi? Owe -you-, Oscar? whatever could you mean!" She playfully shot back.

"There was a pool going amongst the service crews that you'd botch the landing, and now I've got three extra shifts to work thanks to you!"

The two broke into a good natured laugh, Oscar, the Capybara smiling ear to tiny ear as he offered his hand to the skunk as she descended the last two hovering step. Which recalled themselves back into the fuselage as both her feet touched the Surface of the landing pad. The Smell of the Venusian Sea-air was crisp, and clear as it tousled her long white hair back and forth.

"Oscar, you and i -both- know the only reason I botched that landing is because I had an issue with my nose-repulsor."

The Capybara stuck out his tongue: "The flight recorder, ah, she says different. But whatever helps you sleep at night."

She playfully swatted his arm. "what helps me sleep at night is knowing my secret will be safe with you."

Oscar gently gestured towards the loading bay adjacent to the landing pad.

"Well what helps me sleep at night is knowing you'll do right by me for keeping your confidence, Madame." The capybara said with a wink.

The starflung mephit looked down over her round sunglasses. gold frames catching the light of the sun. A flock of ornithropter drones whined overhead in passing, as they rode the thermal rising from the agricultural Station. Oscar met her critical gaze with beatific expression and a slight tilt to his head. The mephit -sighed- and broke, pressing her glasses back onto her face.

"You're lucky nobody can stay mad at you, Oscar, if it were anyone else, I'd be upset."

The capybara shrugged. "what can I say? I do good work, and treat people right, and all I ask is the same in return. If your pride is worth that, i understand. If not? I don't mind either way."

She gently reached into her pocked, and removed a small pouch from her hip.

"The rest of the agreed upon cargo is in my ship, But this? This little lagnappe here is for you, my dear friend." she pressed the bag against the Capybara's chest. "Processed within the last five days, Olympian Reserve, As fresh as you're going to get it."

Oscar smiled. "Ahhh, then yes, This will, of course, be enough to help me sleep well, Madame." The capybara snapped his fingers, and two of his fellows emerged from the cargo bay, carrying hover-carts with them. The skunk momentarily consulting her plasmonocole and unlocking the hatches underneath. The workers, a possum and a mole grunting as they unloaded the content of the shuttle's hold.

"I know this is all business, but, I'd just to say, Madame, this is gonna go over real well down here. Red-dirt stuff is hard to get hold of right now, I've no need to tell you that business is....strange at the moment. Strife between a few of the Houses always ripples out in awkward ways." Opined Oscar.

"You're most welcome Oscar, what's the point of good things if they can't be appreciated, no?"

The rodent smiled as he waved to another member of his crew, who moved in with hardcase and opened it. Displaying a sample of hundred or so glass ampoules, gently pulsating with a blue light.

"See now -that's- why I'm keep your confidence, Madame. I know the form factor is not ideal but like i said. Business is strange."

The Space skunk tilted her glasses down again, and felt her tail floof a little. "This isn't what we agreed on."

"To be fair you didn't specify how, just that you needed a...significant, amount of Medigel. And this is what we located for you. I know you weren't getting any bites out near Dione or you wouldn't be here."

The skunk -sighed- and looked up in frustration.

"I am going to have to spend I don't know -how- many hours trying to process and empty these into something i can use...Oscar I..."

"Well Then it's a good thing the rest of the case is Sight-glassed 750mls Cylinders. then, Madame." The capybara stuck out his tongue as he playfully swatted her arm.

"Again. Oscar, you're lucky nobody can stay mad at you." sighing in exasperation. "But maybe a few mangos wouldn't go amiss to compensate? I haven't had time for a good lunch today..."

"Maybe if you've got something else to share...I know there's be talk of maybe expanding into... muskmelons if you come across a sample?" Said Oscar throughtfully stroking his chin.

"Oh....i'd say I might have some worth showing in about...a week?" She smirked, as she snapped the hardcase shut, and nodded to the member of Oscar's crew, who set about loading the cases into the shuttlecraft.

"Well then, to a coming harvest, Madame. Give the lovely Madame five mangos, yeah? The Good ones, From Deck 6, yeah?"

She hugged oscar as they concluded their business. taking time to -squish- her chest against the Capybara's working clothes, The rodent couldn't supress a smile.

"yeah...that will help me sleep well too, Madame." He said. As she turned and flicked her tail a few times, boarding her shuttle.

The sensation of setting foot on the portal pad was always slightly unsettling, especially coming from an gravity environment, into zero g. the light that suffused the room was a dim, cobalt blue. her mag-stilletos activated for a moment as a bubble rose around the platform, before it rotated beneath her, the sensation of diving downward into a weightless pool wouldn't quite adequately describe it, it was more akin to being shoved into a swimming pool from the bottom, the momentary pressure change making her stomach lurch as suddenly all that held her in place were her shoes, and then, the electromagnets on the plate disengaged. She kicked off gently, her tail and hair billowing behind her, as she floated in the dim lapis hued room, drifting past bodies, lit with orange glowing and face paints, her own stripes luminescing slightly. she flicked her tail, and propelled herself towards a seat, gently swirling around, and clicking her heels against the ottoman tethered to it, as she settled herself in and engaged the lap-bar. her monocle activated as she scrolled quickly through the available options with a few gestures, ordering a drink that caught her eye as she leaned back in her chair, and beheld the duplex dancefloors.

Light grids on ceiling and floor, dancers stereoisometrically arranged, hips bumping laterally, fingers brushing one another vertically, as the wo djs worked the crossfader and accelerometer, sending the dancefloor spinning as the track faded in, the entire complex arrangement rotating freely along it's axes, a duo switching floors mid spin, gracefully wound their arms around one another, spotted cat hide on glorious horsehair for a moment, evening gowns fluttering in the absence of guidance, before expertly the two parted again, exchanging one floor for the other.

The Starflung Mephit smiled at the show, leaning back forward again, tensing her hip flexors and working against the resistance of the mag-ottoman, only for her to realize she was no longer alone at her seat, across the conceptual booth, a familiar Face smiled, a shimmering iridescent gown indicative of a representative of House Rigel. The Rigelian's broad green trunk grasping a self-contained kiseru style pipe, it's thorium derived heating element pulsating a brighter hue than the surrounding room, as she brought it to her mouth and took a long drag from it's resivoirs, and then exhaled, a condenser chamber filling with the resulting smoke.

"Hello there my Dear, Striped Revenant. I'm so glad i found you here by chance..."

"Dalia, Nothing involving you is ever a matter of chance." The mephit retorted. The rigelephant leaned back against her seat, propping herself up with one arm while she took another long pull on her pipe.

"Oooooooooh come now, I may be a prrrrrrrroud Subject of House Rigel but I-am- allowed to have a personal life..."

"That's a funny way to say 'Scouting missions on behalf of my superiors'."

The Rigelephant stuck her tongue out playfully.

"My we're all barbs and venom today aren't we, Monochromatic one! What's the matter, Your latest contract still elllluding you? Or were you simply served a substandard coffee this morning?"

The Starflung Mephit sighed a little and as her drink arrived, a floating delight, a glowing niels bohr atom model comprized of bitesize libations held in orbit around itself, as she lapped at one of the faux electrons.

"I wish it were the latter...."

The rigelian leaned in and gently plucked a gin neutron from the nucleus, and pulling it into her mouth through her trunk she wriggled in delight at the complex botanicals, eyes rolling back as they entered a trancelike state for a moment, The Rigelephant's monocle pulsating as it read the stenographic saccade of her eyes, taking down a complicated series of notes on the aromatics and sensations of the drink as she enjoyed it, exhaling a deep sigh as she closed her eyes and opened them again.

"Forgive the interruption, my dear. Duty to house and all that."

"Like I said, Dalia, Nothing to chance What is it you want with me today?"

The Rigelephant smirked as she leaned in a little closer, disconnecting the maglock on the ottoman to slide around, until she was brushing shoulders with the skunk.

"I -might- have a lead for your latest contract...but it comes with a bit of a price...." Her fingers brushed against the skunk's thigh.

"You'll have to pick a different one. That fragrance is a trade secret." The skunk gently picked the Rigelian's hand up by the wrist.

"It's always worth a shot. Very well, bring me back the current loadout of your....fan from Galactic Consolidated Risk management, The lovely boy with the messy hair? The one with the arm? I want to know what this seasons' new look is. Do that for me, and I'll give you something that will help you with your Io situation..... and maybe a kiss up front as a show of good faith?" The Rigelian batted her eyes wantonly.

The Starflung Mephit leaned in to the Rigelian, and as she leaned in the smell of bergamot, sea salt, and clementine rose to her nostrils, and for a moment, she was somewhere else, a figure hazy in her memory reaching out a hand to her, brushing against her fingertips, as the sound of surf boomed in her ear. Breaking from her reverie, cheeks flush, the skunk planted that kiss timidly on her green cheek.

"My latest, Do you like?" The Rigelian asked with an defiant and wry grin, as if -daring- her to be less than honest.

"Your work is as always, Excellent, Dalia." Said the Mephit. This one...perhaps a little better than last seasons...." She said playing it off, as she soothed her tail's Frizz.

"Your lips lie, but your tail betrays you, cherie. I know i'm going to win with it this time, and if I don't I know exactly who'll be to blame for any mysterious visitors to Espadesign's offices. Now, Enjoy your drink. And remember, if you're ever in a binnnnd, I've got a spot saved for you in my collection. House Rigel need not know...."

The sensation of setting foot on the portal pad was always slightly unsettling, especially coming from an gravity environment, into zero g. the light that suffused the room was a dim, cobalt blue. her mag-stilletos activated for a moment as a bubble rose around the platform, before it rotated beneath her, the sensation of diving downward into a weightless pool wouldn't quite adequately describe it, it was more akin to being shoved into a swimming pool from the bottom, the momentary pressure change making her stomach lurch as suddenly all that held her in place were her shoes, and then, the electromagnets on the plate disengaged. She kicked off gently, her tail and hair billowing behind her, as she floated in the dim lapis hued room, drifting past bodies, lit with orange glowing and face paints, her own stripes luminescing slightly. she flicked her tail, and propelled herself towards a seat, gently swirling around, and clicking her heels against the ottoman tethered to it, as she settled herself in and engaged the lap-bar. her monocle activated as she scrolled quickly through the available options with a few gestures, ordering a drink that caught her eye as she leaned back in her chair, and beheld the duplex dancefloors.

Light grids on ceiling and floor, dancers stereoisometrically arranged, hips bumping laterally, fingers brushing one another vertically, as the wo djs worked the crossfader and accelerometer, sending the dancefloor spinning as the track faded in, the entire complex arrangement rotating freely along it's axes, a duo switching floors mid spin, gracefully wound their arms around one another, spotted cat hide on glorious horsehair for a moment, evening gowns fluttering in the absence of guidance, before expertly the two parted again, exchanging one floor for the other.

The Starflung Mephit smiled at the show, leaning back forward again, tensing her hip flexors and working against the resistance of the mag-ottoman, only for her to realize she was no longer alone at her seat, across the conceptual booth, a familiar Face smiled, a shimmering iridescent gown indicative of a representative of House Rigel. The Rigelian's broad green trunk grasping a self-contained kiseru style pipe, it's thorium derived heating element pulsating a brighter hue than the surrounding room, as she brought it to her mouth and took a long drag from it's resivoirs, and then exhaled, a condenser chamber filling with the resulting smoke.

"Hello there my Dear, Striped Revenant. I'm so glad i found you here by chance..."

"Dalia, Nothing involving you is ever a matter of chance." The mephit retorted. The rigelephant leaned back against her seat, propping herself up with one arm while she took another long pull on her pipe.

"Oooooooooh come now, I may be a prrrrrrrroud Subject of House Rigel but I-am- allowed to have a personal life..."

"That's a funny way to say 'Scouting missions on behalf of my superiors'."

The Rigelephant stuck her tongue out playfully.

"My we're all barbs and venom today aren't we, Monochromatic one! What's the matter, Your latest contract still elllluding you? Or were you simply served a substandard coffee this morning?"

The Starflung Mephit sighed a little and as her drink arrived, a floating delight, a glowing niels bohr atom model comprized of bitesize libations held in orbit around itself, as she lapped at one of the faux electrons.

"I wish it were the latter...."

The rigelian leaned in and gently plucked a gin neutron from the nucleus, and pulling it into her mouth through her trunk she wriggled in delight at the complex botanicals, eyes rolling back as they entered a trancelike state for a moment, The Rigelephant's monocle pulsating as it read the stenographic saccade of her eyes, taking down a complicated series of notes on the aromatics and sensations of the drink as she enjoyed it, exhaling a deep sigh as she closed her eyes and opened them again.

"Forgive the interruption, my dear. Duty to house and all that."

"Like I said, Dalia, Nothing to chance What is it you want with me today?"

The Rigelephant smirked as she leaned in a little closer, disconnecting the maglock on the ottoman to slide around, until she was brushing shoulders with the skunk.

"I -might- have a lead for your latest contract...but it comes with a bit of a price...." Her fingers brushed against the skunk's thigh.

"You'll have to pick a different one. That fragrance is a trade secret." The skunk gently picked the Rigelian's hand up by the wrist.

"It's always worth a shot. Very well, bring me back the current loadout of your....fan from Galactic Consolidated Risk management, The lovely boy with the messy hair? The one with the arm? I want to know what this seasons' new look is. Do that for me, and I'll give you something that will help you with your Io situation..... and maybe a kiss up front as a show of good faith?" The Rigelian batted her eyes wantonly.

The Starflung Mephit leaned in to the Rigelian, and as she leaned in the smell of bergamot, sea salt, and clementine rose to her nostrils, and for a moment, she was somewhere else, a figure hazy in her memory reaching out a hand to her, brushing against her fingertips, as the sound of surf boomed in her ear. Breaking from her reverie, cheeks flush, the skunk planted that kiss timidly on her green cheek.

"My latest, Do you like?" The Rigelian asked with an defiant and wry grin, as if -daring- her to be less than honest.

"Your work is as always, Excellent, Dalia." Said the Mephit. This one...perhaps a little better than last seasons...." She said playing it off, as she soothed her tail's Frizz.

"Your lips lie, but your tail betrays you, cherie. I know i'm going to win with it this time, and if I don't I know exactly who'll be to blame for any mysterious visitors to Espadesign's offices. Now, Enjoy your drink. And remember, if you're ever in a binnnnd, I've got a spot saved for you in my collection. House Rigel need not know...."

The Archivist slid downward, motors whizzing as her rig sent her cascading towards the planet-side end of the station,the carefully stacked and sorted, numbered and organized, secure compartments towering miles tall, zipped by at a steady clip, whisked sideways through the air as the harness navigated her towards her destination, slowing her descent, and halting her, in front of one of the boxes. Her shiny luminescent cleansuit cinched tight around her frame as she reached forwards towards the compartment. half her vision obscured by her Kanban Organizer, the other, obscured by a conversation with the client requesting access. Her hand reached forward in a practiced motion and position even with all the input on display the rig had positionered her in exactly the proper spot for a box of this size, gently, her hand touched the keypad, as the kanban board was obscured by a new window opening up showcasing a one-time access code.

"six..five...nine..nine..twenty...three..." she spoke absentmindedly as the sat on videoconfrence.

"I do not need to hear you repeating anything sensitive in this matter."

She jumped, her hand leaving the pad and squirming uncomfortably as she said: "so sorry, honored client, please forgive this archivist! It helps to..."

"I did not ask for an explanation." came the voice in The tone of someone used to wielding the weight of an institution behind them; Final, firm. but not angry. For a moment the archivist was reminded of the muffled thump-clack of the House's croupier rake on the Kalpahedron's Poker Tables...

Another window opened, showcasing the rejection of her one time code, she stammered another apology as another window opened, with a new One-time code. Her hand started to shake a little, eyes flicking over to the right side of her viewfeed looking at the client. Their form heavily backlit, their head out of frame, showcasing only their broad shoulders and rounded soft, transparent pauldrons, the tautness of their internal pressure on display.

That was new...something perhaps out of House Cyngi...

The box chirped as it opened.

"I need you to display and confirm the contents herein." Came the client's voice again.

"Yes, Honored Client." the archivist responded, trying to maintain her mandated chipper and professional demeanor. Her hands and arms moved with a slight muffled squrrrk, the tight confines of the cleansuit hugging her extremities to protect the sacred contents of The Archive, as well as it's Staff. As she flipped the lid open. Looking down, her forward facing viewlens activated, showcasing the box's contents.

The client, looked carefully, noting the features. "Its weight?" Came the voice.

"err, it's...mass is stated at .25 Kilogrammes."

"Correct me again and I will have you reprimanded."

"Of..Of course! Honored Client....I..." she stopped herself, remembering an explanation had not been asked of her.

"And the contents of the device?" Came the request.

"The Archive does not presently Know. Other examples have been found, but it is believed each is a unique example of their medium, as the Iconography has sometimes appeared at random in other artifacts across a select era."

"Excellent. You may secure the artifact again." The client brought a cup of something up and out of frame, and then returned it to the table as the archivist closed and locked the case. The clients neck rippled with a swallow before speaking again. "This contract has been discharged with only mild unpleasantries. Perhaps you deserve this."

There was a click on the voice channel, and then a warm, pulsating twinge, a surge of electrical stimulation seared across muscles, tensing her body, holding her painfully taut all over, her back arching as she felt the twinge of her muscles pushing and tensing against something, and her entire groin grew warm, panting and gasping in stifled breaths as her focus was completely shot, the stimulation overwhelming in it's intensity, hands twitching and spasming. The feeling of muscles -resisting- something, even isometrically, the sensation of it all, the rush of dopamine and endorphins set her tail thrashing against it's confines as her viewfield checked off her work, and mysteriously the square went empty.

The video-call closed. and the rapturous moment of reward left the archivist shaking and squirming against her guywire rig. panting, shivering for a moment. as a new viewwindow opened indicating she had been fined for a minor noise and humidity violation. She couldn't bring herself to care. She trembled and struggled to make herself ready as the rig ripped her in the spaceward direction of the station, barely able to catch her breath as the next video-call opened.

The Archivist slid downward, motors whizzing as her rig sent her cascading towards the planet-side end of the station,the carefully stacked and sorted, numbered and organized, secure compartments towering miles tall, zipped by at a steady clip, whisked sideways through the air as the harness navigated her towards her destination, slowing her descent, and halting her, in front of one of the boxes. Her shiny luminescent cleansuit cinched tight around her frame as she reached forwards towards the compartment. half her vision obscured by her Kanban Organizer, the other, obscured by a conversation with the client requesting access. Her hand reached forward in a practiced motion and position even with all the input on display the rig had positionered her in exactly the proper spot for a box of this size, gently, her hand touched the keypad, as the kanban board was obscured by a new window opening up showcasing a one-time access code.

"six..five...nine..nine..twenty...three..." she spoke absentmindedly as the sat on videoconfrence.

"I do not need to hear you repeating anything sensitive in this matter."

She jumped, her hand leaving the pad and squirming uncomfortably as she said: "so sorry, honored client, please forgive this archivist! It helps to..."

"I did not ask for an explanation." came the voice in The tone of someone used to wielding the weight of an institution behind them; Final, firm. but not angry. For a moment the archivist was reminded of the muffled thump-clack of the House's croupier rake on the Kalpahedron's Poker Tables...

Another window opened, showcasing the rejection of her one time code, she stammered another apology as another window opened, with a new One-time code. Her hand started to shake a little, eyes flicking over to the right side of her viewfeed looking at the client. Their form heavily backlit, their head out of frame, showcasing only their broad shoulders and rounded soft, transparent pauldrons, the tautness of their internal pressure on display.

That was new...something perhaps out of House Cyngi...

The box chirped as it opened.

"I need you to display and confirm the contents herein." Came the client's voice again.

"Yes, Honored Client." the archivist responded, trying to maintain her mandated chipper and professional demeanor. Her hands and arms moved with a slight muffled squrrrk, the tight confines of the cleansuit hugging her extremities to protect the sacred contents of The Archive, as well as it's Staff. As she flipped the lid open. Looking down, her forward facing viewlens activated, showcasing the box's contents.

The client, looked carefully, noting the features. "Its weight?" Came the voice.

"err, it's...mass is stated at .25 Kilogrammes."

"Correct me again and I will have you reprimanded."

"Of..Of course! Honored Client....I..." she stopped herself, remembering an explanation had not been asked of her.

"And the contents of the device?" Came the request.

"The Archive does not presently Know. Other examples have been found, but it is believed each is a unique example of their medium, as the Iconography has sometimes appeared at random in other artifacts across a select era."

"Excellent. You may secure the artifact again." The client brought a cup of something up and out of frame, and then returned it to the table as the archivist closed and locked the case. The clients neck rippled with a swallow before speaking again. "This contract has been discharged with only mild unpleasantries. Perhaps you deserve this."

There was a click on the voice channel, and then a warm, pulsating twinge, a surge of electrical stimulation seared across muscles, tensing her body, holding her painfully taut all over, her back arching as she felt the twinge of her muscles pushing and tensing against something, and her entire groin grew warm, panting and gasping in stifled breaths as her focus was completely shot, the stimulation overwhelming in it's intensity, hands twitching and spasming. The feeling of muscles -resisting- something, even isometrically, the sensation of it all, the rush of dopamine and endorphins set her tail thrashing against it's confines as her viewfield checked off her work, and mysteriously the square went empty.

The video-call closed. and the rapturous moment of reward left the archivist shaking and squirming against her guywire rig. panting, shivering for a moment. as a new viewwindow opened indicating she had been fined for a minor noise and humidity violation. She couldn't bring herself to care. She trembled and struggled to make herself ready as the rig ripped her in the spaceward direction of the station, barely able to catch her breath as the next video-call opened.