FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Tales from the Hearth Star: Rest and Resupply

By Psion

A Hearth Star Story

Ensign Cheddah blushed as he lay in the dormitory bed stripped down to his underwear. His uniform had been left neatly folded on a nearby desk, boots, gloves, and floppy chef’s hat stacked neatly atop his folded black jumpsuit, though that was the furthest thing from his mind as he felt a pair of human hands gently caress his plump figure, each hand belonging to a separate person. A human female flanked him on each side, one gently running the lip of his saucer-like ears between her fingers while the other reached down to delicately probe a more personal part of his anatomy.

“Mmmmm, now this is a nice surprise Mr. Mouse. Must be the testosterone from all the big, bad space monsters jiggling inside your thighs. Guess the kitchen isn’t the only place you know how to make a girl happy.” The more anatomically focused female whispered in his ear as she gingerly cupped the parts she had been searching for.

It had started innocently enough from Cheddah’s perspective, after Longfoot put them all on leave for the night he had gone to help Mess Sergeant Crem prepare dinner. It was tough cooking alongside all those macho Mess Chefs, they even attempted to haze him by making him wear a frilly apron embodied with the words “Kiss the Cook” in Universal that they got from saints only knew where, but the Space Fleet ensign didn’t particularly care. He enjoyed seeing the faces of battered survivors light up when they sampled GalRep cooking for the first time in ages if in their lives. Something about how their eyes twinkled when they had that first bite never failed to fill his heart with joy. And the prank ultimately backfired in the end; two human females approached him after the dinner service and expressed an interest in “kissing the cook” which lead to where he was now, in a bed on Lighthouse Station being slowly fondled by those same two humans.

Cheddah smiled softly as his two bedmates curled up next to him for warmth. Ear-girl’s hand joined her friend’s in tenderly caressing his privates as they both leaned in to kiss him gingerly on the cheek. It was strange how cold it was on the station, even as well insulated as his body was; it was still a bit chilly for him. He couldn’t imagine what it was like for his new lady friends, probably another reason why they wanted to keep him close to them and slide their bodies underneath his plump thunder thighs. A position he was only happy to oblige with a gentle shifting of his weight, spreading his broad backside between their laps. Space Fleet galley chefs weren’t the ones mingling with the alien females in the holovids, that role was usually given to the Star Corps. But at the moment the young ensign wasn’t inclined to question his good fortune, especially considering how eager his two companions were to taste his rubent sausage….

The next morning, Cheddah woke up reluctantly; blushing as he felt his amorous lovers feebly reaching after him as he climbed out of bed and quickly got washed and dressed. Stepping out of their dishearteningly crude shower and tying his long blond hair in a ponytail, he looked at the still-reclining women looking back at him, wordlessly begging him to come back to bed. The rubent Fleet chef sighed and shook his head; no he could not climb back in with them. Checking his chrono-meter briefly, the wrist-worn holographic timepiece keeping him informed of the station time and time aboard his own ship, he decided he had time for one last little thing…

By GalRep standards, people who consider the kitchen and dining rooms to be the most important places in the home, the apartment kitchen he currently busied himself was positively pitiful. One long counter fastened along the wall opposite from the bed where he had spent the night introducing two human women to soft, squishy Rubent love-making, the uneven “kitchen” counter hammered roughly out of scrap metal and studded with crudely-made appliances or little cubby holes that passed as a pantry for non-perishable goods. A rudimentary refrigerator good for a pound of produce or a few six packs of canned drinks. Still, it was what was available and while it was no wonder why the humans prefer even Star Corps cooking compared to their own, it was still something Cheddah knew how to work with.

Bending over and deliberately giving the girls a fine view of his abundant rear as he rummaged through their pantry, smiling to himself as he wiggled it at them with a playful flick of his whip-like tail, the Rubent selected a few ingredients that smelled like they would make good substitutes for one of his people’s traditional breakfasts before getting to work. Soon the room was filled with the smell of food cooking as the ensign fought to get an even temperature on the electric stove. Setting two plates on the table with a hot breakfast, he gave both women a little wave and a wink before quickly disappearing out the door. Carefully weaving his way through the human colony as the inhabitants started to stir; he boarded the Silver Pantry and assumed his post in the ship’s galley with time to spare.

Operating the Provision Generator to assemble basic ingredients and turning on the ship’s modest galley appliances, Cheddah sighed for the second time since waking up. Here he thought the ship’s facilities were primitive but it turns out he was horribly mistaken. His current posting, while lacking the lavish utilities he had under Bargebottom, was certainly more advanced then the positively prehistoric appliances the humans cooked with. No matter, nothing to be done about it. Spending a minute to recall what was on today’s menu, the galley chef quickly worked to prepare breakfast for the crew.

First to saunter into the ship’s mess was Commander Longfoot, still quite round from her recent gastronomical adventures but certainly looking much less bloated as she ambled into the room. The flax-haired engineering officer sat down, her expanding backside taking up two of the already generous mess hall seats as she sipped a cup of coffee and watched Cheddah busy himself in the kitchen. Soon the others began to fall in for morning meal. Ensign Zedd the helmsman came in with his uniform meticulously straight, he was one of the crew that either drew the short straw or volunteered for staying with the ship overnight. Petty Officer Suker waddled in behind him; the Vul security officer had that characteristic coy grin on his face again. Cheddah secretly wondered more then once just what was on the Vul’s mind. Next came the Leflin twins, Lai and Sil, two that Longfoot specifically ordered to take ship watch. Apparently there was an embarrassing incident at a port city that got the sisters assigned to the Silver Pantry, something about lack of regulation uniforms and public intoxication. Neither of the Lapeen sisters had been thrilled with this development but Longfoot gave her orders with a look that said everything that was going to be said about the matter. Looks like Suker, Lt. Synth, and himself were the only three that managed to take some time away from the ship and mingle with the humans. Speaking of Longfoot’s XO…

The normally reserved science officer couldn’t keep a slim smile from crossing her face as she ambled into the ship’s mess, her black-clad hourglass figure jiggling from the motion. Commander Longfoot looked up and met the other female’s eyes, causing Synth’s smile to briefly broaden and Longfoot to shake her head and bury her face in her free hand. Not a word was spoken nor did one need to be said, the seemingly emotionless military scientist had apparently been successful in introducing at least one human to the Galactic Republic’s broad territorial expanses. Pushing lewd thoughts of the incredibly busty feline out of his head, Cheddah immediately focused back on finishing up breakfast. Plates of thick, heavy starch cakes were set on the table and the conversation immediately began with what had happened while they were collecting supplies and visiting Baconfat Base.

“Major Hopper and I have spoken to the GalRep colonists rescued by Governor Blackman’s militia. The colonists wish to continue on their way to their original destination, a planet on the edge of the GalRep frontier not from here. Despite our misgivings about the idea, Blackman has agreed to take them there and help them settle a future agricultural colony. As for us, we are to head to the Fleet shipyards at New Torga for a minor refit before resuming our original orders. While the refit is taking place I think we’ve all earned a proper shore leave.” Longfoot explained, earning a pair of cheers from the Leflin sisters.

“What will the refit entail?” Lt. Synth asked inquiringly.

“A upgrade of our kitchen facilities, modifications to the living quarters, and some sort of new modular extension to our hold. The Fleet has not made me privy to the specifics of that last item as of yet.” Bael Longfoot replied as the crew finished up breakfast and ambled up towards the bridge, time for them to depart. Behind them, Ensign Cheddah cleaned up the kitchen and disposed of the leftovers that wouldn’t keep. Longfoot briefly watched him work then walked away shaking her head with a smile, Rubents were sometimes teased for being GalRep’s garbage disposals and Cheddah was apparently no different in that regard. A cast-iron stomach with a seemingly elastic capacity, the blond ensign was equipped to handle his leftover disposal duties well and handled them with a smile on his face.

Departure went much more smoothly then their arrival. Released from the docking moorings, Lighthouse Station shrunk in the distance behind them as the Silver Pantry sailed off. Sitting in her command couch, the robust officer sighed softly and reviewed the engineering displays as her ship prepared to jump to hyperspace. Hopefully their shore leave at New Torga will be uneventful, Longfoot certainly deserved a week or two of rest after her last few adventures and she was sure the crew felt the same.

Blackman nodded in greeting as Gina took a seat across from his desk. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me in my office on short notice. I know you’re busy, pretty sure I’m still going to need a crowbar to pry you from the laboratory to free you up for the Pathfinder Corps.”

“Thanks Gabe but I have a feeling that’s not what you called me for.” Gina Stewart replied calmly. The two had a more or less informal relationship between one another, he recognized and respected her skill in chemistry and biology, she rewarded his respect with upfront honestly.

“Yes… I called you because while I recognize most of the GalReps we now have running around on the station, I hear you’re more familiar then me with those fox people. The… what are they called again?”

“The Vul.” Gina replied sheepishly. “I wouldn’t exactly call myself an expert though, most of what I know about them I learned from Donge when he was my… assistant. And you know I don’t like thinking about the arena.”

“You still know more then me. Vul, like Vulpine? Although speaking about your old friend… how do I pronounce his name?”

“Pretty much and you pronounce his name Dong-E, sort of like the Vietnamese currency or… well, like dick. And yes, they are aware their names often have sexual connotations in most of the cultures they encounter. If my chats with Donge have any truth to them, they actually take pride in it and try to collect words from the people they meet to come up with new names. Females have names referring to breasts or ass and are generally unconcerned that the name fits only half the time while common male names involve some sort of penis reference. And yes, it is common for a Vul male to have a member worthy of being a namesake.”

“So the name of that big black fox fellow with Commander Longfoot really is supposed to read like….”

“Like Sucker. I hear Lolly, like lollipop, is also a common one. Candy euphemisms also seem to be popular names among both genders.”

“So they’re… but the ones here are either all scientists, engineers, or dabble in one or both.” Blackman replied, trying to mentally apply what Gina was telling him to the alien species he was surrounding his people with and not having much success.

“And that’s the paradox of the Vul that GalRep apparently accepts without batting an eye. To put it in 90’s sci-fi logic, Vul are both the Proud Scientist Race and the Proud Slut Race. I suppose it makes sense though, what was it William Shatner said when he was Captain Kirk? ‘The greater the mind, the greater the need for the simplicity of play’ or something like that?”

Blackman shook his head and buried his face in his hands. Try as he might, he couldn’t help but think of ways this could significantly disrupt normal life in the colony. Even if it wasn’t as bad as he thought it could be, it was still something that could keep people from getting work done. With so many things happening at once that had to happen, that was not a situation he wanted or needed.

Gina shook her head and changed the subject. “So, Pathfinder Corps? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Have to call it something, might as well go with that.” Blackman replied dejectedly, still somewhat fixated on the potential problem of the promiscuous Vul.

“So, do we have anything beyond a name yet? Members, equipment, ships, a secret base?” Gina asked, continuing to try and get him thinking about something other then a problem that was probably a non-problem.

“I still have the list of candidates I put together the last time we discussed this topic, all the hopefuls have been contacted and agree. Equipment is something that’s still being worked on. Jack down in Materials is tinkering with an idea, something based off of the GalRep fiber samples we acquired a couple months ago.”

“The fibers that were supposed to be bits of Space Fleet and Star Corps uniforms? What’s he doing with those? I know the Star Corps uniforms have some sort of strength enhancement but other then that that… we don’t need the elasticity, at least not yet. I’m sure the Super Troopers are conspiring to change that.”

“They probably are but if that’s the worst they’re up to then I suppose we can afford to let them be for now. We certainly have plenty of other things to worry about. Anyway Jack thinks he can make a new suit of our own out of the bits he’s been looking at; an environmental suit that, if it works like he promises, will be adaptable to a variety of different atmospheres and climates. As for the rest, I think having the Pathfinders on a separate outpost away from the prying eyes of the Galactic Republic might be a good idea for now.”

“You still don’t trust them do you?”

“Oh I trust that the admiral and general mean well in their… unique way. I also trust that this hodge-podge of scientists and soldiers are also on the up and up in the same unique way. What worries me are the rumors I’ve been hearing from the Star Corps grunts gossiping about someone suppressing stories about our existence, someone who isn’t part of the Republic’s military or police. Since we have no idea who these people are or what they hope to gain from this, it’s best if we keep the amount of people who can spy on the Pathfinder program to a minimum. Plus, putting the base somewhere off-station frees up space for more residences and workshops.”

“Alright then, what about a ship? Did you somehow acquire the Enterprise from Star Trek and not tell any of us? If you did, can we trade it in for the Voyager?”

Blackman laughed. “No, not exactly. But Bob’s finally out of the infirmary, those Wuff critters messed him up good when the Star Corps were riding in like the cavalry. And turns out a few of the slaves we freed from So-Hung were laborers at Iron Pecs so we now have a few more shipwrights.”

“I repeat my question, do we have the Enterprise tucked away somewhere and you didn’t tell us?”

“No, but Admiral and Captain Bargebottom introduced us to a design that Bob thinks he can replicate. Unintentionally most likely but still, the junior Bargebottom is supposed to be able to get repairs and resupply here so it shouldn’t be too much of a jump from making components to making a complete starship.”

Gina blinked as she realized what he was referring to. “You mean the Trailblazer? The dinky ship that looked like an oversized star fighter with a fat ass? I mean if we can build our own that’s great, that’s more then I thought we could do. But doesn’t that only have space for a crew of one?”

“Two if the occupants don’t turn into GalRep roly-polys and don’t mind having their partner’s elbow frequently in their face.” Blackman admitted. “But we have too much ground to cover and if these rumors have any merit then we might not have a lot of time to do it in. I know it’s extremely risky-”

“Suicidal is more like it. You only have twenty of us to work with Blackman. Maybe double that if Freeman and the others manage to get the other ship working but that’s a big if.”

“But we have to do it. Unless we want to run the risk of someone with less then noble intentions finding our homeworld before we do, we have to send all of you in as many different directions as possible.”

“Then we need something else to make sure most of us don’t die on the first planet we survey. Because so far the only positives you’ve told me involve an idea for a suit that may not even come together and the fact that all the candidates you picked so far learned basic galactic survival at the school of hard knocks.”

“What do you suggest Gina? Make our own version of that STOUT serum Major Hopper and his loud-mouth Corps brag ab- Oh god are you seriously thinking about it?” He asked, stopping mid-sentence when he saw the look in her eyes.

“It’s not the worst idea…” The young human scientist began, staring back at the disbelief in the governor’s eyes. “Gabe… if that idea is even possible I believe it’s our decision to make. Besides, don’t be so surprised, I mean you do realize some people think that your selection process for this Pathfinder project has less to do with finding proven survivors and more to do with getting the most outspoken Integrators off of the station?” She continued to stare back at him. “Gabe, twelve of the candidates on that list of yours have been publicly vocal about putting the Isolationists in their place. And frankly all of us on that list are glad Bargebottom and Carbloat got that stick out of your ass and made you find some damn sense when it came to dealing with the Galactic Republic. I mean seriously, try and find your way home in Alyssa’s jump shuttle with nearly two dozen wounded just because you wanted to snub GalRep one more time? Damn it Blackman, I thought you were smarter than that.”

“And I thought you valued our independence more then that Gina.” He countered and immediately knew he had made a mistake.

“Independence… the people who scream for independence on this station are the same people that act like I’m some kind of war goddess. The people that forget that I had to kill my friends… and my boyfriend… just so I can listen to them whine about the encroaching alien influences threatening this joke we call our way of life. Where was that independent spirit when I was sitting in a cage, hoping to God for something to hang myself with? Where was it when I was marched into the arena with enough explosives to cripple a tank collared to my neck and told to kill the people I cared about or die? I guess neither of us really knew each other all that well Gabe.” Gina spat venomously and rose to her feet before seeing herself out of his office.

Governor Blackman was silent as he watched her leave; he knew that was an argument neither of them was going to win. And it wasn’t entirely untrue what she implied. The ideal candidates for this endeavor were either veterans of the Wuffs’ cruel arena like Gina or resourceful survivors that managed to endure in spite of famine, disease, and the brutal inhabitants of a lawless region of space. These experiences made them into the talented sort of people that got things done in Post-Earth human society… and made them the most mentally susceptible to what GalRep dangled before humanity. Despite being in the other camp, those that believed accepting the Republic’s offer came with a cost that was too high to pay, Gabriel was not without empathy for his opposition, a state of mind that helped him as much as it hindered him. Exhaling and shaking his head for a second time, he reconsidered his original thoughts regarding the Vul. Perhaps having a troop of promiscuous alien scientists wouldn’t be so bad after all; at the very least it was a badly needed way for the Integrators to blow off some steam…

Longfoot exhaled as the Silver Pantry exited hyperspace and arrived within hailing distance of the Fleet base at New Torga. While wreathed by the metallic silvers and grays of orbital shipyards, the planet of New Torga itself was a tropical jewel awash with lush greens, vibrant blues, and a splash of sandy whites. Rainforests laden with exotic fruits, beaches with bars and cantinas selling mixed drinks made from aforementioned exotic fruits, and beautiful pristine oceans home to all manner of fish from the exotic to the edible.

The ship’s bridge was silent as Zedd docked the Pantry with the shipyards and Longfoot confirmed their request for a refit and received a time estimate for how long the modifications would take. The crew held their breath as the commander received her estimate and signed off. Exhaling, she looked at the others. “Two weeks, you all have two weeks of leave while the ship is in dry dock. That is all, dismissed.”

The crew cheered and left to return to their quarters and disembark for two weeks on a GalRep resort world. Sitting alone on the bridge after they had all left, Longfoot exhaled a second time as the realization finally hit her. Two weeks of shore leave… what was she going to do with herself?

Petty Officer Suker was silent as he packed for two weeks leave and joined the rest of the crew at the dry dock to wait for the shuttle ride to the planet below. The robust Vul security officer gently stroked a necklace he acquired aboard Lighthouse Station as he listened to the Leflin twins chatter happily about their plans for the beach, Ensign Cheddah read a guide to the planet’s local cuisine, Ensign Zedd read an old hardbound book he packed with him, and Lt. Synth stared idly out the window as the shuttle docked with the station. The purple-haired Vul’s ears twitched as he heard Longfoot arrive behind them, prompting him to tuck the barely visible necklace back the rest of the way beneath his uniform. Now was not a good time to make himself think about her, perhaps he should have left the necklace in his quarters aboard the Silver Pantry. But then if it somehow got lost or misplaced in the refit, he’d only hate himself for it.

Watching Commander Longfoot take a seat opposite from him as the rest of the crew waited for the shuttle, Suker put on his best Vul smile as he watched her sit down. Such a lovely Lapeen female, with such a warm smile, soft belly, and magnificent rump, as alluring as Cryptal Bargebottom was yet infinitely more competent and with a personality that was infinitely less grating, two things Suker had to respect his new CO for. Yet apparently she had been so focused on her duties that at this moment she looked the most lost out of all of them when faced with the prospect of two weeks with no schedules, no routines, and no drills. Just nothing but some well-earned relaxation with nothing but them and their own thoughts, somehow he doubted her thoughts would be as heavy as the ones weighing him down since Lighthouse Station. Perhaps he was thinking too much and this shore leave was what he needed to keep his mind from dwelling on the depressing things he witnessed aboard Lighthouse Station and the Crown of Thorns…

Meanwhile, Hearth Star…

The Mead Hall continued on as it always did, an endless display of dark and twisted carnal pleasures performing to a heavy bass sound track that seemed to permeate the entire sector as the neon lights cast the narrow streets in an otherworldly glow. Just another day of business for the brothel and bar owners providing a holiday retreat to the various pirates and outlaws roaming the space lanes. Another ordinary day up until the lift connecting the Mead Hall to the GalRep holdout on the lower levels came to life and deposited four heavily armed Star Corps troopers into the crowded Mead Hall.

For the briefest instant all foot traffic froze around Lt. Jerky and his squad, the various brigands and criminals staring at the four portly Star Corps in their olive green armor and red visors, comically huge gunmetal gray guns fully loaded with the safeties off. And then reality came back crashing in. The unarmed turned and fled, running as fast as they could. But there were plenty of armed privateers that were willing to reach for their weapons and see if they could beat Lt. Jerky and his troopers on the draw. The roar of Big Fracking Rifles put an end to that, gyrojet shells tearing down attackers in a controlled spray as the four lumbering space marines focused their fire on active targets. Alarms slowly growled to life as human thralls fled to avoid getting caught in the crossfire, Jerky frowned in contemplation as he watched the scene unfold in front of him from behind his helmet visor.

“Hoo-RAH! EAT IT PIRATE SCUM!” Sgt. Donut boomed and thumped her chest as her minigun slowed down with an electric whine.

“Alright troopers, remember what we’re here for. We don’t have a lot of time before security drives us off so we better make this quick. No Detours.” Jerky ordered, placing an emphasis on the last bit before motioning for them to waddle off in the direction of the target. Already the elephant-like being could feel himself start to have misgivings about this idea. A pair of human slaves, their Wuff pimp slowly bleeding to death on the metal floor, looked at his squad with a mix of terror and awe. Dressed in scanty clothing that would have been horribly impractical outside of the climate-controlled confines of the ship, it was obvious what function both human females performed on the ship.

Donut lowered her minigun ever so slightly to look at the two humans cowering before them. “Hi ladies, want the Star Corps to show you how it’s done?” The sergeant audibly smiled behind her helmet.

“Donut. No Detours.” Jerky repeated, emphasizing both words as he called out his sergeant, then turned to the two humans, motioning for them to take the elevator his squad came up in before lumbering off with the rest of his unit in tow. The sooner they secured the objective, the sooner they could leave before security had a chance to take a bite out of their fat asses.

Resistance picked up as the four of them plodded along through the maze-like “streets” of the Mead Hall, crudely rebuilt security robots more suited for dealing with unruly drunks than disciplined combatants appeared out of the alleyways between the prefabricated bars and storefronts. one combination bar-brothel-drug den starting to look like the next despite all the bizarre and obscene variations in signage the troopers could see. Finally, one particular neon hologram stood out like a beacon next to all the signs advertising all manner of sexual acts and alcoholic beverages; the utilitarian logo of the Hearth Star’s own chain of general goods stores….

Bethany did her best to smile for her customer as she bagged his purchases at the OmegaMart checkout. He was back again, that bastard Starfang was back again. How he came back after his latest misadventure was a mystery to the human cashier, apparently he had been filled full of holes by a “Space Fleet” boarding drone outfitted with automatic weapons, whoever they were. Yet here he was, shopping for his usual order with a tone in his voice that sent chills down her spine. That lion’s comically huge mop of cherry-red hair completely obscured his face except for a black eye patch that never seemed to stay on the same eye for some reason, making his expression impossible to read. But there was no mistaking the tone of his voice as he spoke to her; “kitty” was in a real pissy mood today. And Bethany still had the scars on her face from the last time he was in a foul mood….

Quick, long-legged drones scurried about in the open-air storeroom behind her as Bethany continued to do her best to smile for Starfang and bag up his order. She would happily be the first to admit that OmegaMart’s setup made no sense to her. The system seemed to combine the downsides of warehouse superstores with the flaws of general-purpose goods stores while maintaining the benefits of neither. Then again perhaps it was meant to keep the brigands from having easy access to the merchandises, a design decision she couldn’t argue with as Starfang attempted to reach over the counter to pull her over and rip open her shirt. Somewhat fortunately, he was only partially successful at the second thing as a loud explosion boomed from right outside the OmegaMart.

“Oh what the hell is this?” Starfang growled as he turned away from Bethany and walked towards the prefabricated metal door… just as a huge beer-bellied elephant in olive green body armor kicked it down and made it land squarely on top of the lion-like sapient.

The elephant space marine walked over the knocked down door and quickly swept the room with his rifle raised, pausing only to look at Bethany’s immodest appearance and the groaning Starfang slowly coming back around. His eyebrows furrowing in a look of extreme disapproval behind his crimson tinted visor, the elephant gave the door a good stomp with his armored boot before walking closer to Bethany, recognition finally overcoming the initial shock of the green marine charging in and the sound of his squad mates clashing with security outside. This was trouble, this was going to get her punished, she thought as she reached for the panic button hidden under the counter… only to have the intruder grab her wrist with a speed she couldn’t believe anyone as well-rounded as he possessed.

Lt. Jerky held the human woman’s wrist firmly but gently as he pulled her hand away from whatever was concealed beneath the counter. “Thank you.” He began, looking like he was going to say one thing then thought better of it, instead settling for holding the barrel of his gun inches from her face. “Consider this a robbery. Cooperate with me and you will not be harmed.” He said as he let her wrist go and slid a hand-written shopping list on the counter. “We want all of that loaded onto a courier drone and sent down to an abandoned storeroom in the lower decks. The storeroom’s location is at the bottom of the list.”

Bethany nervously picked up the list and quickly scanned it, consciously aware of the three fat space marines outside making a racket as they traded shots with security drones. “All… alright, we don’t stock some of these things though.”

“Do you stock generic brands or substitutes?” Jerky asked.

“Yes though-” Bethany began.

“Then we’ll take them. Just put in the order.” He interrupted sharply.

Bethany did what she was told and like clockwork the automated pickers loaded the requested items onto one Labor MUL designated for courier duty… then another, and another after that. Each one racing out of the facility when they were loaded to their maximum capacity. Food, condiments, ammunition, alcohol, sundry items, the armored stranger took it all. It wasn’t until her stable of courier drones started making their third trip that the Wuffs started to wise up and attempted to stop the sturdy drones. Yet judging by how readily they fulfilled their duties despite getting badly banged up, it looked like a fool’s attempt to Jerky’s eye.

It was a testament to the ship’s still-working cargo-handling system that the shop was quickly emptied. How much of the stocks would be recovered by irate Wuffs before they could get to them was unknown but even if the lupine space pirates did recover some of the stolen supplies, the GalRep eight would keep the majority for themselves. Yet once the shop was emptied there was still one last loose end to deal with.

Looking at the empty shelves then back at the cashier, Jerky made his decision and didn’t think twice about it. Wordlessly grabbing the human woman by the arm, he lifted her up over the counter and onto his shoulder. With the soon-to-be-freed slave firmly clasped over his shoulder, he waddled back outside… taking care to throw his full weight into stomping on the crushed lion and firing a round into his prone body before rejoining his squad. “Alright troopers, clear out!” He boomed over the roar of automatic weapons and the thunderous crack of Vodka’s sniper rifle.

Donut, Chunky, and Vodka looked up from their corners, all of them surrounded by a small mound of destroyed security robots and gunned down Wuffs, and cheered with a hearty “HOO-RAH!” before heading back towards the same elevator they came up. Resistance had taken a noticeable hit on the way back despite the Mead Halls being thrown into a complete panic with vacationing brigands fleeing from the sight of his squad as fast as they could, something that worried Jerky but nothing he could do about it right now. Right now he needed to focus on getting back down to the lower decks with his squad before the Wuffs realized what was really going on.

“Hey El-Tee, when you said we were going to take everything that wasn’t welded down I didn’t think you were going to pick up something for yourself too.” Donut chuckled as she swept the street in front of them as her minigun whined threateningly, jerking her helmeted head at the woman still slung over his shoulder.

“Focus on the front sergeant, save your jokes for when we’re back at base.” Jerky replied curtly, they couldn’t reach that elevator soon enough.

And then they did, the familiar doublewide doors of the heavy-duty freight elevator opening up for them automatically as the squad quickly squeezed in and escaped down below. Bethany had barely introduced herself before being squished behind PFC. Chunky and Cpl. Vodka, the human squirming briefly before resigning herself to the fact that neither male was going to move for the immediate future and let her body sink into their flabby love handles. Jerky watched with a smile as Vodka smiled and patted the shorter being on the head as one of Freeman’s Rangers called over the lieutenant’s radio.

“This is Ranger Bravo to Corps Alpha, we are clear and back down on the lower decks. I repeat, we have successfully crashed the slave auction and are safely back down on the lower decks. I don’t know what you did to piss them off Alpha but that was fracking awesome, we busted twenty people out of that and encountered almost no resistance! We’re definitely going to have to do this again sometime!” The young Freeman’s Ranger laughed happily.

Jerky smiled in spite of himself. The garrison was supplied and they managed to make off with about twenty-three captives when it was all said and done. All in all not a bad break from the search for the Wuffs’ beast pens…

This wasn’t a bad break after all, Commander Longfoot exhaled happily as she relaxed in a reinforced lounge chair with a cool drink in her hand as the bright sun warmed the white sandy beach. She traded her standard black with orange trim ship’s uniform for a nice naval blue bikini shortly after the crew had gone their separate ways. A simple tube top for her modest breasts and an azure bikini bottom stretched tight against her expansive Lapeen rump as Bael let the sun warm her brown fur. Taking another sip of her drink and setting it down on a tray next to her chair, she pushed the lounger to recline back as far as it would go and rolled over to start sunning her back. The sturdy chair buckled ever so slightly under the blond lapine woman’s weight as she lay down against her soft stomach and let her voluminous rump wobble as she finished turning over. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, long rabbit ears twitching to the sound of nearby beachgoers doing their best to quietly admire the view she was providing and succeeding not quite as well as they thought, Bael relaxed and decided to let the voyeurs enjoy the sight of her expansive rear territories for now. Maybe it was the drink or the stress of the last few weeks but Bael found herself enjoying the sensation of being admired…

Ensign Cheddah smiled as he sat on the beach in a pair of elastic black swim trunks, his large rump and a warm beach towel cushioning him as the Rubent enjoyed a quickly assembled picnic lunch before leaning back to let the sun warm his swollen abdomen. Resting a delicate hand on his growing gut as he gave his belly a soft pat, he let out a content belch and closed his eyes to enjoy the sun on his soft brown and white fur. Closed his eyes and mentally pictured the two human females he spent the night with back on Lighthouse Station, both of them enjoying the sun with him and much rounder from a regular diet of proper GalRep cooking. Maybe another day, maybe another day…

The Fleet bar was relatively quiet as the sun had yet to set on the resort town as Security Officer Suker and Lt. Synth sat in a discreet corner of the bar and sipped a few drinks. The bar’s few other patrons took one look at the feline and vulpine whispering in the corner and drew the obvious conclusions, the Vul had a reputation and Suker’s present beachside attire did little to refute it. Suker had quickly shed his duty uniform for a tight elastic black bottom, sandals, and nothing else. Yet their present conversation wasn’t about what they would do but what they did, something they wanted to be somewhat discreet about for a number of reasons.

“So… back at the frontier colony after we separated, how did it go?” Synth asked with a smile.

Suker put on a weak smile. “I don’t think the commander would like us talking about that too much.”

“Hence why I’m not asking loudly.” Synth replied. “You haven’t looked particularly happy since we left that colony and there’s no one else you can talk to except us.”

The portly Vul sighed. “Sometimes in the search for knowledge we ask questions that shouldn’t be asked. Some of the stories told by the slaves that manage to escape back to the Galactic Republic sound too incredulous to be true so I made the mistake of asking about the tortures the Wuffs may have subjected captive Vul to. The female I was with ended up knowing all of them all too well. I had my answer but ended up holding her in my lap for the rest of the night, listening to her cry as she fought with nightmares. Not exactly a good place to jump to ‘do you want to be introduced to Vul love-making?’ so I rubbed her shoulders and held her against my stomach… she even asked if I would eat her to put her out of her misery.”

Synth blinked at this. “You’re joking?”

“I wish I was. But no, she was serious. So, even though it wasn’t a good place I suggested that if she was that determined she should at least experience love with a Vul before she went. She was unsure at first but ultimate decided it couldn’t hurt. I made sure she experienced as much of the Encyclopedia Erotica as I remembered. Then before I had to leave to report for breakfast call, she gave me her necklace for luck and asked if I would come back again.”

“Sounds like it went rather well, you should be proud of yourself for convincing her to keep on living.”

“Yes I suppose, still was a bit of a shock at first. Never expected to see someone so far gone.” He sighed, the encounter clearly having taken a bit out of him.

The Fleet science officer sighed and shook her head as she regarded her shipmate with a sip of her drink. They really needed this shore leave and probably a few more if they were going to be dealing with the humans on a regular basis now…

Meanwhile, Hearth Star…

The Guilder enclave was at one time a major engineering station responsible for much of the worldship’s maintenance needs, the perfect place for a cluster of GalRep engineers, mechanics, and other techno-types to hole up. No matter how many times Freeman visited Ironbelly, he couldn’t help but be impressed by what they managed to accomplish in their little corner of the Hearth Star. It wasn’t anything that could significantly turn the tide against the Wuff hordes but it was encouraging all the same to see what they managed to put together with a seemingly random assortment of spare parts and other junk. Heating units, water purifiers, and power generators, much of the tech base of those eking out a living on the lower levels was built here on cluttered workbenches improvised out of cargo crates and stray pieces of sheet metal.

Walking through the busy corridors of the station with a pair of Rangers escorting him, Freeman forced him to avoid staring at the signs of industry going on around him less he was blinded by the spark of a welder assembling a metal housing for a heating unit. Despite his abrupt dissolution of the council, trade still existed between the human and GalRep enclaves in some capacity, fat GalRep fingers deftly assembling tools and technology in exchange for food and protection. Perhaps surprisingly, some of the other human groups were starting to have second thoughts about the idea of staying on the ship. Still… his breakdown and the trouble it caused would be nothing if he couldn’t get that other ship working.

Ironbelly was where Freeman expected her to be, the big-bellied Buk guildmistress was overseeing the main workshop floor, managing three projects while personally working on a fourth herself from the comfort of a large workbench with a padded chair. The relatively short beaver-like alien was always doing something. Despite being quite round and barrel-shaped, Freeman rarely saw her sitting down and always preoccupied with some technical project or another.

“Hello Ironbelly.” Freeman began as his entourage and he stood safely behind the Buk’s workbench, the human governor hoping his Universal was up to snuff.

Given the last time he saw her the guild mistress was being chased away by his peers and he dissolved the council quite violently, Ironbelly was quite cheerful as she turned around in her chair to face her visitors. “Hiya Jon, how have you been?” She asked with a smile like the last council meeting hadn’t happened.

“Busy, which is why I’m here. I need your help with a big project I decided to commit Freeman’s Hold to.” He answered, no sense avoiding the reason why he was here.

“Always business with you isn’t it Jon?” The black-haired Buk replied with a polite nod, for not the first time Freeman wondered why she always sounded disappointed when he went straight into business. Could it be… nah, that would be foolish.

“Yes but you’ll like this one I promise. I want to get the other passenger ship working again. And I would like your help in making repairs to get it flying.”

The way her brown eyes lit up, Jonathan knew she had forgiven him for not making this a social call. The Guilder and GAS holdouts had been pushing for Freeman and the other humans to help them get off this ship for as long as any of them had been here. But the other human camps had always fiercely vetoed the idea in favor of other projects that invariably only bought them time. Well, they would still probably veto the proposal but Freeman had stopped giving a damn what the rest of the council wanted long before he threw them all out.

“That can be doable, but we need a pilot and I won’t know what else until I see what progress you made before the others made you stop. Will they be a problem again?” Ironbelly retorted with a token counter-argument but Freeman knew she was interested.

“No, they will be no problem. As for the pilot, we still have Boom-Boom and a couple of my people have been training on a VR sim we found a few weeks ago. As for inspecting the ship yourself, I can easily make arrangements. Do we have a deal?” He asked, studying her expression closely.

Ironbelly was silent for a lot longer then Freeman expected her to take to think it over. Then finally she extended a gloved hand for him to shake. They had a deal….