FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Like all designs of vessels meant to carry mankind, the designs of spaceships went through changes, through styles. With setups like the ones shown in various sci-fi movies and shows at the turn of the century (2000 A.D) firmly implanted in the dreams of generation after generation, it's little surprise that the first few generations of ships reflected the setups that had their origins in shows like star trek, battlestar galactica (which had the benefit of being based of designs already in use on military ships on original Earth's oceans), and, of course, star wars.

The impractical designs ceased being popular shortly after people had to actually start using them. The battlestar like setups worked wonderfuly, if you had a reason to stuff scores of people in a command room at the same time. In the beginning of non-governmental space exploration, this was always the case, but as more and more civilians and professionals, for reasons ranging from romance and politics to greed and a hunger for fame, turned their eyes to space exploration and, of course, exploitation, things changed. A central command or 'war-room' setup still made sense for military and huge corporate operations, but just plain exploration, research and mining didn't require that kind of personnel. Not anymore.

The bridge of the I-Tritrig was a crescent of chairs, three in front, with raised platform behind them, also crescent shaped. This crescent housed a raised bench that ran unbroken along it's center, with multi-purpose terminals on either side, half facing towards the viewscreen at the fore of the ship, the other half facing aft.

In the center chair sat Syne, to his right, Cosyne. The left chair, reserved for Tanjent, but usually vacant, was gathering dust. Syne punched a few buttons in the armrest of the chair, and the viewscreen came alive, showing darkness lit by stars, littered with rocks. As his fingertips flew over the panel, a rectangular window opened in the upper left corner of the huge screen, filling with text. Subsystems followed by the word OK scrolled by rapidly, finally ending in a list of the ones that ended in something other than OK. The list, as usual, was long. Syne and Cosyne exchanged glances. Syne sighed in exasperation and Cosyne chuckled, reaching an arm around Syne and giving him an affectionate shake, "Same old, same old.".

"Oh for fuck's-... The entire lighting grid is down except the damn Aft!", Syne exclaimed, tapping his way through the list of things that weren't working. The I-Tritrig was a model renowned for having a rock-solid set of vital systems, and a 'discounted' set of everything else. With a person like Tanjent around, this was a mere nuisance. Without one, it was inoperable. Cosyne snickered softly as Syne depressed the transmit button on his wristpiece, holding it up to his muzzle, "Tanj, how are my brights coming?". After a couple seconds, a staticy reply, barely audible over blaring thrash music in the background, came back, "Busy on the bays and then the arrays, why do you ask?".

"Because I don't like having to look out my ass.", he muttered, deliberately not transmitting. Pushing the button again, he grumbled, "Hang on a second Tanjy, Bell, how is my Core looking?". "Like a big glowing blue ball suspended in a white-misty enclosure Captain.", the gravelly voice of the badger replied, slightly more staticy than the cat had been. Cosyne still snickering, Syne sighed and tried again, "Is there anything... Wrong... with it?!".

"Not unless you don't like blue.".

Syne tapped through the list of things that didn't work, and grinned. Particle-burst engines were online. "Alright. Carry on both of you. Priorities are sound Tanjy-cat, and Bell, you just keep that core nice and blue.", he transmits once more, before looking to his brother with a resigned stare and a chuckle. "What's the plan?", Cosyne ventures, grinning himself, "Want me to help you stare out your tailend?.

"Yeah. Preferably without stuffing my head up my own ass.".

"Gotcha. About we go, no yoga necessary.", came a cheerful reply. The ship rumbled and spun around, pointing it's aft to the field of rocks once in front of, but now behind it. A few keystrokes brought the viewscreen around to the view from behind the ship, now illuminated. Both coyotes grinned and Syne whistled at the glimmering field of rocks. Whatever their composition, there was a LOT of metal here, possibly things more valuable.

"Wonder what the scans will say when Tanjent gets them back online.", woofed Cosyne, "Nothing to do til then but wait."

*****

Tumbles shivered softly, looking at his soft fur in the mirror and feeling his cheeks and eartips perk. The raccoon crossed his ankles and, biting his lower lip, lifted the front of pink pleated cheerleader's skirt to look at the flat, white silk panties beneath. Another shudder, to see his physical form so transformed, so cute, so harmless, so, well... Effeminate. With a soft and practiced giggle, he lowered his skirt, now a little raised in the front, and turned around, lifting his tail a to reveal his smooth white rump, able to see the pink ribbons he'd tied in his hair and the gold heart-shaped earrings dangling from his ears.

Nine times out of ten, the raccoon did something a bit more sexy, or normal, casualy female, albeit with panties or thongs that weren't what most women would wear everyday. But every so often, an urge to be extra femme, extra girly, would possess him and this was the result: A giggling, prancing, raccoon, skipping to his bed with a tight-fitting pink tanktop that didn't even cover his lowest ribs. The coon lays on his belly and curls his knees, slowly parting them as he watches his tail hike and rump lift in the mirror with a shiver. One paw reaches down his white panties and starts to gently stroke at the warm length that was causing his skirt to lift earlier, his giggles mingle with his moans. Until a knock on the door caused the raccoon to yelp and leap in shock, diving under the covers with a whimper even though he knew the door couldn't be opened without his permission. Cheeks burning in shame, he manages to call out, "Wha-... Who's there, and what do you want?". Doc's voice replied clearly, after soft laughter, "It's me, Tumbles... sounded like you could use a hand, or possibly something warmer in there.".

Stuffing his wrist into his muzzle to silence his moans as his fur stood on end in arousal, ideas tumbling through his mind before he can stop them. Fantasies he'd never indulge in, too shy with the part of himself he was ashamed off. He saw himself bent over his bed, skirt hiked, panties round his knees while that glorious white cat just past his door reamed his virgin tailhole and teased him gently with her lovely voice. Her helping him with his make-up before taking him in the missionary position, lifting his ankles to the sky and sitting on his tail. With a whimper of frustration, he shoved them all away. Him and the Doc had had many trysts, but she had never interupted him during his private 'sessions' before.

"I, um, I can't right now!", he fumbled, heart pounding with the fear of being discovered.

"And why not?", Doc called back in a voice that suggested pouting cat.

Tumbles' mind raced. Years of hands-on experience had made him good at thinking on the fly, but the fear and the hormones dulled his thoughts. Excuse making was second nature to the raccoon, but this time he struck out. "I think I might be sick!", was the excuse he decided on.

Doc let out a seductive mrewl, "Mmmmm, now that's what I'm talking about. Open up flufftail, and I'll make you allll better...".

"Nonono!", he squeaked, "Not like that, Really sick!"

The white cat's voice got more serious, the seductress gone, replaced by a friend. A friend with a medical background and training. "Oh my-I thought you meant... Well open up Tum! I'll still make you all better.", allure replaced by concern, still in the sweet voice that came with lovely body of a person dedicated to removing pain from the world.

Cursing inwardly, the guilt of a closet-cross dresser with transgendered tendencies now all the heavier for making his friend worry, Tumble's hands quickly undid the earrings, tossing them under the covers and unweaving the pink ribbon from his hair.

"Come in!", he called, the door unbolting itself at his behest. He tried hard to still his panting as Doc entered at a swift stride, whimpering just a bit and trembling in worry. Doc heard his whimpers and immediately her face tensed in concern, luminous blue eyes filled with the soft compassion reserved for her friends, for her family, "Oh my poor Raccoon, I-", she stopped in mid sentence, her eyes briefly taking in the uncovered pink shoulder strap of his tank top, a glint of gold in the shape of a heart, pulled out from under the covers on accident. As quick as Tumbles was, Doc had a lifetime and change on him, and kept right on going, locking eyes with the raccoon, "I hope it's nothing serious!", she finished, resting a hand on his forehead to feel for fever and cover his eyes as she pulled the covers up further, to his neck, tucking him in... and catching a glimpse of his skirt beneath the covers. Tumbles tried to resist as he realized what she was doing, but was too late. He held his breath, paralyzed by fear and guilt as she lifted her hand from his forehead and eyes.

"Well, no fever, but you need to stay tucked in anyways!", Doc admonished as if she had seen nothing. A long life had taught her a great deal about people, more than just the mechanics of how their bodies work. To her, the idea of her Raccoon lover in a skirt on his knees was fun, but she could see that it terrified him to think that she might even know. Doc's eyes revealed nothing as she watched Tumbles slowly exhale, looking to her with blank eyes as it registered to him that somehow, she had seen nothing.

"You come by later for a checkup, for now I think I'll go make you some soup.", she purred gently, rubbing his tummy with her soft pawpads through the blankets, feeling for the skirt, and his cock, "and maybe later, if you're feeling alright about it, I'll take some fluid samples from you.", with that, she gave a squeeze and a rub, and felt the slick fabric beneath the skirt, Silk?, she thought to herself curiously as the Raccoon let out a genuinely aroused and genuinely frustrated whimper. Clearly it was time to leave Tumbles to his own demons. A quick kiss on his forehead and a look of honest worry and sympathy, then she departed to make him his soup.

Tumbles almost cried in relief as he heard his door bolt shut. He thanked his luck over and over, until thoughts of Doc came back... Doc and that lovely, shiny purple cock he once saw mounted in her strap-on harness, mounted inside him. One hand wrapped around his silk-covered cock, the other slid down the back, poking his tailhole with it's tip as Doc teased him in his mind. He mouthed the words he heard her say, "Yes Tumbles, in your cute little skirt, rump in the air like a proper lady.", he slipped his finger into his muzzle briefly, coating it with spit as he imagined the sound of her bottle of lube popping open, whispering to himself, "Yes, is my coongirl enjoying herself?", he interupts himself with a whimper as he presses against his tailhole, Slipping it in with a squeak as he mouths the words, "Good girl!", and screams into the pillow he rolls into, his cock spasming and jerking as the inside of his panties get a lot more slick.

Outside his door, Doc grinned, her sensitive ear pressed to his door. The grin faded as she walked away and sighed. Knowing something was wrong that she couldn't fix never got any easier to live with, even if it got easier to recognize. While Tumbles started cleaning up and thinking about how to end Doc's worry, Doc worried about something that was actually wrong, how much Tumbles was terrified about his private interest.

*****

Syne pushed his transmit button again, staring at the same asteroid field as before and holding a poker hand so he could see it and his brother, holding a hand himself, could not. "Hows the sensors coming Tanjent?", he queried. "Almost done!", came the thrash-metal bathed reply, accompanied by the sound of something sparking. As Syne drummed his fingers on his armrest impatiently, Cosyne, his eyebrows tensed together in thought, sighed and asked, "Does a full house beat a four of a kind?". His twin peeked at his cards again and sighed exasperatedly, laying them down in disgust. "Fold.".

"I don't HAVE one, I was just wondering.", Cosyne woofed with a grin. As Syne reached for his cards again, rolling his eyes, Cosyne continued, "I have a straight flush this time, I was just wondering cause I can never remember!". Syne blinked, and threw his cards back down, hesitating only a second before grabbing the deck and Cosyne's cards too, despite a startled bark. "The point of this game is just plain lost on you, you're too honest.".

"Well, only with you!", Cosyne protested.

"Maybe Poker just isn't a game for twins."

"Go fish again?"

"Yup. Go fish.", Syne sighed once more, looking up at the asteroids again before shuffling.

*****

In the engine room, Bell was reclining in her chair over the main control panel for the engine's core, with very little to do but smile widely and enjoy feeling full. Her job was every bit as crucial as Tanjent's, but didn't require nearly the amount of maintenance. Pondering what she should do with herself, she snorted with eventual boredom as the torpor wore off, and got up with a long, relaxed stretch. The badger plodded off to the garage, positioned next to the launch bay for obvious reasons, knowing she'd find Frost and possibly Tanjent there.

As the badger's boots bore her weight with every loud, resonating footstep, she thought of their youngest crew member. For the most part, actual age aside, everybody on board acted more mature than their years would lead one to believe they should, with the obvious exception of Doc, who's maturity was not a simple thing to assess. The sole exception to this was Frost. At age twenty, he acted more or less fifteen. Flighty, childish, he was originally dragged along with the others by Tanjent, who found him at a party someplace. The others found him irritating at first, but over time, his overall good heart had grown on them each in different ways. Somehow, through acting childish, he had managed to get most of the crew to see him as that: A kid. A teenager, though he was no more a teenager physicaly than Doc was a highly sexual twenty-something cat. He had become the crew's little brother, but at times it bothered him. A piece of him craved security, to be cared for and free to be the irresponsible kid he behaved like, but in his secret self, he wanted respect, and hurt inside when he didn't get it or wasn't taken seriously. Exacerbating things, when he hurt bad enough to lash out at the others, they just shrugged and treated him like a kid brother. Which ironicaly isn't all that different from how actual kid brothers tend to be treated.

Whereas Bell existed in a manly, if testicle-less, state with few words said, and Tumbles' gender issues were a deep dark secret, Frost's were quite well known. Nobody thought anything of it, as it really wasn't that much stranger than anything else about him and he was very open, if red-cheeked, about it. He didn't want to be a girl, or feel like a girl persay, he just liked feeling, as stated earlier, secure, cared for, and generally like a child. The inherent cuteness of feminine clothing on his fairly androgynous form combined with the incredible meekness it inspired in him made it an obvious turn-on for him, much to the amusement of the rest of the crew, when this part of him became a public spectacle, oft-times at the end of somebody's leash. Like the Doc, he wasn't prudish, though it was more out of an absence of jealousy and a love for attention than any real philosophy. Frost wasn't much of a philosophical faux-wolf.

The first of the crewmates to really start to like Frost was Bell, and she had been instrumental in helping both him deal with the crew and the crew deal with him while they adjusted to eachother. She barely noticed him at first, thinking he was little more than a toy of Tanjent's, but then one day she ran into him in the garage, tinkering with one of their Excursors. She sat and watched him work, without being noticed, and something about him, about how terribly cute he looked bent over a open engine, tail waving in the air as he pushed on a wrench with all his scrawny weight, how eager, grew on her. Eventually, smiling widely, she walked up behind him. Her footsteps startled him, and having her large form so close to him caused his ears to lower and his eyes to look upward in wide nervousness. Her smile gone, she looked down expressionless, allowing her lips to give a slight scowl, and those adorable ears lowered more.

Casually, she reached into the compartment to the wrench, securing it to the bolt he had been working, and, without breaking eye contact, pushed. Metal squeaked briefly as she unstuck the bolt, arm bulging as she focused Hard on not smiling. Confused, nervous, and amazed, Frost peeked into the open engine, then back up at Bell, his ears slowly lifting. Until she growled softly, whereupon they lowered fully again, and he even shrunk a bit. But she had pushed it too far, and it was too much. Her growl became a deep, restrained laugh as she helplessly smiled, trying not to completely lose it and expose the poor boy to one of her snorting giggles. Frost tried to look up resentfully, hurt, but a single badger-paw gripped his head, ruffling his hair with a deep chuckle as she squatted on her knees, wrench still in hand. "That's how Bell deals with bolts.", she managed between laughs as she picked up a length of cut piping, slipping it over the wrench handle, "This is how Frost deals with bolts, when he's feeling too manly to use the air tools.".

"I'm not too manly! They won't let me use them! Afraid I'll break something...", he woofed defensively, full of hurt pride. Bell looked over his body once and smirked the way a hungry man might view a ripe, tasty apple. "No. You're not.", she agreed, "We could fix that, if you want. It'd be hard for you to break anything but yourself with my weights.".

The badger could only blink in surprise as the faux-wolf wrinkled his nose at the notion, holding up an arm and flexing. "It's big enough, right, as long as I'm clever?", he half-declared, mostly asked as he slipped the breaker bar/pipe over the wrench and broke the next bolt with ease.

"You don't want to work out?", Bell asked bluntly, curious.

"Of course not. That's boring, for like, jocks and stuff.", he barked from the engine compartment, bent over it again. After two more bolts, he hit one he couldn't bust with the breaker, whimpering in frustration as he looked around, cheeks beet red from such obvious inadequacies with an audience, embarrassed enough to not even want to lift his head where his face could be seen.

Bell looked at him once more, bent over the edge of the craft he was working on, and imagined him in the attire he had been wearing when Tanjent first took him home from the party, where she met him: A ludicrous white sailor shirt complete with neckerchief and a fluffy, almost knee-high pink skirt with white frills, complete with pinafore. The badger licked her lips as she imagined his cute rump, tail lifting the skirt for her, and wondered what he looked like beneath the coveralls he was wearing. A whimper and tailtwitch from of frustration from Frost shook her from her imaginings.

She walked up to Frost, pressing her groin against his rump hard enough to pin him there, not nearly hard enough to hurt him. She leaned over, so he could feel her breath on his neck. As Frost's fur stood on end, Bell reached into the compartment again and curled her fingers around the breaker bar below his own. In a gravelly whisper, Bell explained, "It would seem somebody must work out, little wolf, if this bird is ever going to fly. At least until you prove yourself to the crew and earn their trust. Or at least their tools.", She pushed down, just a fraction, forcing the bolt to turn just a bit with a squeal of protest. Frost pushed eagerly, but couldn't get it to budge anymore. Bell cut off his whine of frustration with a slow, gentle, but insistent hump to his backside, getting a pleasant yelp out of him before continuing, "You could work out yourself, with me.", at that Bell paused. Frost growled and shook his head, which she silenced by turning the bolt two full stead turns, squealing the whole way. It was free now, for Frost to turn, and he tried to, tried to work despite the massive 245 pounds of muscle against his back. He turned it an inch before Bell's iron grip held the bar in place. With whine-snarl of frustration he looked up to her with a pleading glance. Bell answered by grinding the front of her camo-colored cargo pants against the back of his coveralls, silencing him with a kiss to his nose and a nip on his ear before continuing in his shocked silence, "Or you could rely on me every time you find a mean bolt and need the muscle you're so reluctant to hinder your pretty little body with. One involves showing up at my door, every morning, ready to sweat and spot me.", whimpers and snarls interupted her again, which she silenced this time by grabbing Frost's muzzle with her paw, and slowly holding it shut, turning it so he had no choice but to look up into her eyes, into her striped badger face, smirking and strong, condescending, but in a friendly way. She continued, "The other involves you showing up at my door, when I find my own 'mean bolts', with your butt in one of those cute girly things like I saw you in when the Tanj-kitty dragged it in here, so I can use that pretty little body of your's to pry my own threads free.". As Bell let go of the breaker bar and slowly backed up a bit, Frost stood still for awhile, his face flushed as he tried to understand what was going on. Finally, mustering up his courage, he looked over his shoulder at Bell, propped his head up on one elbow and asked, "Are.... Are you a man?", voice timid, but honest and confused.

Bell shook with laughter and shook her head, giving his ass a light swat and a strong enough grope on one cheek to make Frost squeal, replying only with, "More of one than you little gear-fox.". She tousled his headfur before walking back to her quarters with a chuckle, pausing only long enough to toss a bottle of WD-40 into the compartment he was working on, directly over his head to clang against the enclosure loudly, "Use that when you put them back, unless you want to spend a lot of time in a dress.".

It took about fifteen minutes for Frost to find another bolt he couldn't break free. It took fifteen more to swallow his pride enough to admit to himself how much he had loved the attention of the badger, and how good it felt to find somebody who talked to him like he was more than a guest, than a simple nuisance. To feel like he might fit in someday. Another fifteen minutes to get dressed, and yet another fifteen to tiptoe through the ship in his thigh-high white stalkings with bows, a pink skirt, and a light purple tank-top with a nothing beneath the skirt at all. Tail lowered the whole way, he felt modest and self-conscious this way for the first time in a long time. He got to Bell's door without being seen, and knocked.

Bell smiled when she saw his nervous, eager face looking up, smiled more when he looked down and mumbled something about a stuck bolt, and had been smiling ever since. Frost had long since earned the trust and privileges to use the air-tools, but he still showed up at her door on occasion, or when she asked.

They made a strange couple; childish, immature, prissy and slender Frost, and serious, composed, strong and no-nonsense Bell. Frost was still Tanjent's plaything, their ballistic personalities often making them the only one the other could truly be around and relax, not afraid of bothering the other one with their exuberance and scattershot attention, but he was also Bell's bitch. Nobody called him it to his face except, rarely, Bell, but somehow when she did it it didn't hurt him. It felt right to him, even if somewhere in him there was a part of him that wanted desperately to be what she was: Strong, self-reliant, and respected.

By the time Bell reached the garage, she was smiling the smile that thoughts of frost's behind framed by something frivolous brought out of her, and was pleased to find him alone, bent over the Excursor once more, hammering out bolts with an airgun. She walked up behind him like she had back then, pinning him just like before. "Whats the story, grease-monkey?", she asked in her gravelly voice. Frost mrrred at the sound of it, his tail lifting just a bit more as he foraged deeper in the Excursor, "Story is that we actually need this thing ready soon, and I was a bad fox and didn't finish it on time before going into cold-sleep.", he admitted freely.

"Ah. That's not going to win you any reliability points with Syne you know.".

"I know, I know!", he yapped, frustrated and bothered. Bell stepped back immediately, folding her arms. "You can take it out on me,", she scowled, "Or you can accept my help, get it done on time with nobody else the wiser, and show up properly dressed at my door afterwards.".

Crestfallen, Frost slumped over the engine and lowered his ears. "I'm sorry Bell. Please help me?", he woofed in a soft voice. Bell tousled his hair and hugged him, her smile back. "Good boy.", she praised him, grabbing an air-gun and snapping a fixture to it's tip, Frost's cute little yips as she filled his tailhole with the harness and dildo she kept in her shower-stall already echoing in her head.

*****

"Do you have a nine?"

"Go fish."

Cosyne drew another card as Syne earflicked in irritation and reached for the transmit button. Before he could hit it, Tanjent's voice echoed from the crews' transmitters, "Sensors are online, lights are online, moving to the recyclers, so if you have to use the head, don't!".

"Finally!", Syne exclaimed, clicking his wrist-communicator and saying, "Good job getting them both done at once, good luck with the cistern. Frost, is the Excursor ready? Anything about it we should know?". Seconds passed, and nothing came back. Right before Syne was going to ask again, Bell's voice came over loud and clear from her quarters, "The wolf got the job done, ought to run to specs. Our specs.", her voice ended briefly, and a very fox-like squeal followed by much yipping piped up in the background as her velvet pawpads, backed by iron muscles, gripped Frost's cock beneath his skirt and squeezed while her other hand pushed his head up and down over her faux-cock, "That being specs above and beyond what the guy who sold it to us gave us. He's a good mechanic Sir, tight ass. Good for breaking stuck bolts with.", there was a whimper of protest before the transmission ended, followed by snickers and chuckles throughout the ship, though nobody quite dared to quip back over the official comms channel, chatter being a pet-peeve of the twins.

Managing to keep a straight face and simply rolling his eyes, Syne's hands flickered over the keypad on his armrest, illuminating the spherical shape of the I-Tritrig, bringing her lamps to bear. Another set of strokes updated his list of subsystems that were not okay, considerably smaller after Tanjent and her army of 8 androids had been given time to run amok for awhile. Cosyne didn't need to be told what to do. His own fingers flew over his own console, beginning his scan of the field.

"Have an Ace?", said Syne.

Cosine handed a card over with a dirty look and a harumph.

"A seven?"

"Go fish."

Syne drew a new card and yawned, watching a progress bar on their viewscreen slowly increment.

The game dragged on, interrupted only by Tanjent storming the bridge and taking her post in the third chair, soaking wet and smelling of WD-40. "What the hell happened to you?", asked Cosyne, Syne staring blankly at their sister. Tanjent blinked and cheerfuly replied, "Honestly, I have no idea. At first I was upset, I mean, REALLY upset, when liquid started pouring from the recycler's bathroom main feed, but it wasn't... you know, anything dirty. Just water, some soap, some fur of course, and a bunch of WD-40. That's really not that bad. And how the hell does WD-40 get in there, hrm? It's like somebody took a shower or a bath of WD-40. Who the hell would do something like that?", she chattered in a high-speed mrewl.

"Will it hurt the recycler?", asked Syne, concerned.

"Naw, probably not.", Tanjent replied with a shrug, "They're pretty damn hardy. Whatcha playing?"

"Go fish.", the twins answered in unision. Tanjent wrinkled her nose and looked away in disdain, "Go fish? Play poker, that's a real game. Or hearts at least. Go fish is for silly little cubs and kittens.". Another set of exchanged glances, and the two coyotes descended upon Tanjent, wrestling and rolling around on the floor of the bridge until a crystal clear 'Ding' signified that their scan was complete.

The three took their seats and Tanjet, shaking her wet fur out, threw the mineral map up on the viewscreen and each of the twin's console, so they could peruse the three dimensional map at their leisure and whim while she sorted out anything interesting about it.

"Good vantage point. Two more scans like this and we'll have covered 80% of the rocks out there. I'm liking what I'm seeing too, lots of lovely ores in this list. We'll need a few excursions and a sample for Bell so we can get her opinion first of course, as to the interior composition of the non-ferrous and non-radioactive materials out there.", Syne said slowly, pouring through the map and looking for good places to take samples.

It was Cosyne that noticed it first. "What's that?", he asked.

"What's what?", brother and sister replied.

"That!", repeated Cosyne, pointing to his screen.

Tanjent rolled her eyes, "Does 'that' have a coordinate? Preferably in ordered triplicate form so I can-huh... What's that?", her voice changing near the end to curiousity. Before Syne could get snarky, she posted what Cosyne had seen onto the viewscreen.

There was a rock on the map. A perfect sphere. Composition not just unknown, but registering as an error. The three stared and typed away for awhile, each one trying to answer the various questions in their heads, each failing to find a satisfactory answer to the question on their minds: What was it?

"Could it be a malfunction? It's a perfect circle, maybe something stuck on the radar? A coin or something?", asked Syne. "No, it's working fine.", replied Tanjent, annoyed. Cosyne spun the object around, looking around it on the map awhile, before offering, "Maybe it thinks it's working and is lying to you?".

"I looked it over by hand, tested each array and battery and checked for obstructions, it's working fine, there's something out there.", she ranted. In actuality, one of the androids had done it, but it had still been done. The three typed some more, hunting for answers, before each stopped for awhile to talk it over.

"We've done how many runs and never seen anything like this?", mrewled Tanjent in confusion.

"Hundreds easily.", replied Syne.

"Maybe a thousand by now really.", guessed Cosyne. Syne didn't disagree.

All three looked to the viewscreen. "Must be something pretty weird, huh? What's the manual say about Spheres of error ore?", wondered Syne. "Looking it up now Mon Capitan.", Tanjent mrewled, her eyes pouring over text flying by on her bracer-display.

"Ah-ha! It's a radar error caused by blackholes, cause they make a region where the radio waves and electromagnetic fields and scattered-matter sonar gets sucked up and never comes back out!", Tanjent exclaimed, proud of herself and waving her tail smugly.

"A blackhole.", the twins stated in unision, less than convinced.

"Yup!"

"It's... what? Somewhere between 3 and 5 feet in diameter total? and it's a black hole huh? In the middle of an asteroid field? About a mile from our ship, where it's holding position, right the hell now? Does that sound a little... strange to you?", asked Syne, half skeptical half sarcastic.

A highlighted section of the documentation for their Miner's sensor array appeared on the viewscreen, more or less reiterating what Tanjent had just said. The twins read it over, and shrugged at each other. "Well. I guess we're really close to a blackhole. A very very small one, eh?", Syne joked. He pressed the transmitter on his wrist-communicator and cleared his throat, "This is the captain speaking, and I'd like the crew to know that our radar has discovered a black hole. About a mile from the ship. It's about three to six feet in diameter and smack dab in the middle of the asteroid field without establishing any discernable orbits in any of the matter near it or sucking any of it in. I intend to domesticate it, name it 'Bubbles', and feed Tumbles to it. More information as we come by it.".

Over his siblings' laughter, he explained himself, "Hey, we're a mile from a blackhole. Common courtesy to mention that. Neither of you honestly believe that's what that thing is, right?", he asked.

Cat and Coyote shook their heads.

"Naw. That's bullshit, utter bullshit. If it's not a bug, and it's not a blackhole... well, it must be some sphere of matter in space that's eating or absorbing our radar. There's stuff out there that can achieve 100% absorption of a given wavelength of radar, it's not completely inconceivable that maybe one could form naturally.", theorized Cosyne.

"Naturally. In a sphere-shape. That eats Multiple wavelengths and spectrums of waves?", challenged Tanjent, "I doubt it. Maybe... Maybe it's a full black hole?", she offered in return, earning incredulous glances from both brothers.

"A full... Black hole.", pondered Cosyne aloud.

"Thats... stupid. And so is this debate.", declared Syne as Bell and Frost entered the bridge curiously, Bell sitting at her post, Frost just leaning against a wall, not having a post on the bridge yet and belonging in the garage and launch bays during emergencies anyways. They watched silently, looking perplexed as Syne continued, "It's a mile away guys, and it's curious enough to me to be worth risking an Eye for.".

Tanjent purred at that, clapping her neon green and purple furred paws together happily, pulling the goggles she typicaly wore on her forehead over her eyes and pressing her bracer down into the armrest of her chair. The goggles went dark as she scampered through the ship's electronics, accessing and waking up an Eye, plotting a course for it as Tumbles and Doc entered the bridge as well, taking their posts as well.

"You can't feed me to a blackhole! Who'd cook me?", asked Tumbles, with Doc on his heels, "I don't have a large enough bandaid for what'll happen to us if we get sucked into one, are you guys screwing around?".

"We're finding that out now, sit down and watch.", offered Syne as Tanjent mrewled off her progress, finally mrewling in a happy chirp, "Launch!". The viewscreen flickers and becomes a staticy image from the eye, a camera attached to a thruster with a remote. It drifted softly as Tanjent uploaded her route to it, then launched it, ready to take over if it looks to be doing something bad while weaving between rocks. The static fades as the Eye fully awakens and zips at full speed, darting a woven path to it's goal. Minutes pass, and the crew watches, patiently. Finally, the Eye spins over and comes to a stop with the thrusters, spinning about to drift slowly and focusing on the object in question.

A ball of light, red, sits centered on the screen, flickering and throbbing, occasionaly pulsing with red light. Syne freezes, remembering his dream, but so does the rest of the crew, transfixed by the ball. Meanwhile, the rest of Syne's dream comes to him. Before the metal slab, the bit where he must've wet the bed, with more than just piss. He sees himself diapered and pacified, wetting himself and blushing as he humps the soggy mass around his incredibly hard cock. There's a blur, things forgotten, that he can't recall. Something too slippery to remember, before he found himself on the table on the dream. The fur on the back of his neck stands on end in apprehension, and that idea, that image... something he's tried hard to ignore most of his life is shoved in his face, and it has made him rock hard in his captain's chair.

It's Doc who finally breaks the silence, "What the hell is that thing?".

Tanjent replies by flickering through the other settings the Eye is capable of, starting with a thermal overlay, showing the item to be about 70 degrees fahrenheit. Other displays flicker by, none of them at all useful.

Syne's heart is pounding. He's a responsible captain, and this thing terrifies him for personal reasons, but his curiosity, the curiosity that keeps his vessel and crew past the edges of known and explored territory in search of unknown orefields and scrap-vessels is burning. He knows if he leaves this behind, he will wonder forever more, and nothing about it seems logically dangerous after all.

"Shutdown the Eye, leave it's beacon running so it doesn't drift off before you arrive. This is going to take hands. Go get it. Minor bay, where we can fuck with it, and a sample of the following asteroids for the Minor bay as well,", Syne paused long enough to flag several asteroids of different compositions in different places around the field, naming each one before continuing, "Tanjent, you're navigating, Frost, you're driving as a reward for keeping that Excursor in operable condition,", at this, Frost shot Bell a grateful look, "Bell, you get ready to take Core samples, Doc, I want you with me when we get to that thing, so be ready for anything when they get back. Cosyne, you operate the hand, Tumbles...", Syne trailed off.

"Yes?", answered the raccoon.

"Make us lunch."

His crew hopped into action, while he watched the last frame of footage taken by the Eye. The same shade of red. With all his willpower he tried to think of something other than his own guilty fantasy, the one he'd never dared to try and feared, the one that had him ragingly hard and wanting to run to his quarters for that plush-toy of his he used when he needed to let of some steam, but now was not the time. He had to focus. To focus on what was around him.

While focusing on what was around him, he heard Tanjent speaking with frost as they walked away, "Hey Frost, you smell like WD-40 too! Were you working on the recycler also?", she mrewled, to which he simply answered in a bashful voice, "I don't want to talk about it.".