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Nova Wars Chapter 5: Starwing Station By Draconicon

Training progressed at a pace that was satisfactory, if not always truly what he'd like it to be. There were three different occasions where Ryker refused to go along with something and both Klim and the rest of the crew had to get him to go along with it, and more than once, he noticed that the rest of the crew were getting fed up with the folf's attitude on the whole thing. In the end, the raptor made a deal with his security officer. Anal wouldn't be on the table, but he had to be willing to get on his knees for oral.

With an accommodation of at least being an oral power bottom, the folf fell in line.

The training had continued in the short journey from where they attacked the Thousand Claws to the edge of the Purple Talon system. Several times, the slave training that he was having Dresnath put the rest of the crew through devolved into an orgy, but he didn't stop it. Nor did he join it. Klim's cock was still rather injured from the bite he'd gotten from Maggie, and he didn't want to risk injuring himself. That didn't mean that he would stop the orgies from continuing, but he did make sure that it didn't go on for too long.

The one other problem, surprisingly enough, turned out to be Sollon, his first mate.

He'd noticed it the first day, but had hoped that the rat would break out of the dead-eyed stare that he tended to keep when he was going through the motions of service. It was fine enough when the rodent was working with the more traditional and less sexual aspects of serving the scaly members of the crew, but when it came to the sexual roles...

Well, saying that Sollon was a dead fish was putting it kindly.

While they were still about an hour out from entering the Purple Talon system, he summoned the rat to his private quarters, shaking his head at his seat. This was going to be interesting.

"You summoned me?"

He looked up at the open door, nodding at the rat.

"Yes, I did. Come in."

He gestured at a free chair. Unlike the ones in the Breakaway, the chairs of the Thousand Claws were constructed with the idea of much wider tails to be accommodated and less of a need to recline. They had straight-backed chairs with a pointed tip that would have scratched up a furred creature very well, but served as more of a scratching post for a scaled one, giving a pleasant little scratch just from turning one's head.

He indulged in it as Sollon took his seat across from him, the rat dressed in nothing but one of the slave collars that they had managed to scrounge out of the lower levels of the ship. The golden band around the rat's neck looked heavy, but the raptor knew from experience that it was mostly circuitry underneath a veneer of the valuable metal. Still not light, but not as crushing as it appeared.

"Adjusting to the collar?"

"Fairly well, sir. I have yet to have a complaint?"

"Good. The drug dispensers are properly disabled, yeah?"

"As far as I can tell, yes, sir."

He nodded. If there was anyone that could fake being sober while drugged up to the gills, he would imagine the rat would be the one, but he still wanted to ask. Looking the naked rodent over, he sighed.

"Look, Sollon, we have to talk."

"Is this about my recent performance, sir?"

"Yes. It's a little...how do I put this..."

"I believe the term that you're searching for is 'lackluster,' sir."

"That's one way to put it. Mind if I ask what that's about?"

"In regards to my sexual service, sir, I believe the issue is that I do not need it, nor do I require it," the rat said.

Klim arched an eyebrow.

"Everybody needs sex, Sollon."

"Not everyone, sir."

"Is this some sort of medical condition, or -"

"Not in the traditional sense, sir."

The rat shifted in his seat slightly, shrugging his shoulders as he did so. The raptor sighed, gesturing for his first mate to continue.

"I am an extreme example of asexuality, sir. There is little reason for me to actually show enthusiasm for sex, as there is no psychological reason for me to enjoy it. I receive little from it, though I do not mind putting myself in the position of supplying it."

"That..."

"It does, however, mean that it is difficult for me to pretend to enjoy it when I am partaking in it. I have to force an understanding for something that I do not have, and then emulate it. I take it, by your reaction, that it has not been successful?"

"That would be...well, putting it mildly."

The rat was more than competent in the motions that sex required. He had seen more than a few of the other men enjoying the rimming work that Sollon had put into their sessions, and he knew for a fact that the rat had a mouth on him that could give one hell of a blowjob. However, every time that they looked down at his face, it was like looking at a robot. Yes, there were those that rather liked that, but he wasn't one of them.

He shook his head a few times, getting back on track.

"Look, I think that we need to handle this. Do you think that you can pretend to enjoy it?"

"I doubt it, sir."

"Are you...fuck, yes, yes, you would be sure. You don't say anything without a qualifier if you're even slightly less than sure."

The raptor sighed.

"Okay, are you willing to take a few aphrodisiacs to get into the role?"

"I would prefer not to, sir. I don't believe that they would help, and they would impair my abilities to think. In addition, I believe that it would merely express a frustration for something that I do not mentally want, but I will then physically require."

"Look, I'm not saying that I need you to take them, but I'm asking if you'd be willing to. If you really had to."

"...If you ordered it, sir, then I would take them. But I do lodge my protest at such a thing, now."

"Protest lodged and recognized."

He nodded.

"Thanks for your time, Sollon. Go tell everyone else to get into proper attire. We should be reaching the edge of the system soon, and I don't want anyone out of place."

"Very good, sir."

As the rat left, he couldn't help but shake his head. The bare bottom of the rodent was a very nice one, and he had to admit, such an ass would sell well for the hierarchy. But he doubted that the attitude would go along with it, as well.

Asexuality. He wasn't so sure how to handle that in a slave, but he'd have to find a way around it. He'd be pushing things with keeping Ryker close by as a personal slave as it was; having two would start raising questions, even if he was posing as a commodore as he entered the system. Sollon might just have to deal with it, much as he didn't like pushing it. It was just part of the way that things were, at that point.

He turned in the chair, looking at the reflective surface that loomed up as a wall that turned into a dome over his head. The room felt like the inside of an egg, just as he remembered. He sighed.

Looks like I'm going to be getting further into role than I realized.

Standing up, he walked over to the wardrobe on the far side of the room. The captain's clothes were laid out, as were a few other outfits that he had looted over time. The white uniform of a commodore was already pressed and cleaned, and he smiled to himself as he pulled it out, stroking a claw along the rank insignia.

Commodore Hexclaw...

It had been a dream for a very long time, even before he left the Soaring Fleet. He'd dreamed of the day when he would be able to rise above the level of a captain, to be the head of a true fleet of ships himself, able to command others on a level beyond what anyone outside of the military would understand.

Oh, the politicians claimed that they held sway over the rules of life, that they could guide a civilization forward. They could, over time, but it was gradual and slow, something that would take lifetimes to truly see the differences.

The lawyers, they claimed that they stood between civilization and anarchy, and they did, but only in the ways of words, in response to the actions that others took.

But the soldiers...

In our hands lies the power to dispense death, to grant life, and to serve as the wall against those that would come to take it, he thought. In our hands is entrusted the protection of a hundred million billion lifeforms, and it is a trust that we should never break.

Though the others may protect concepts, a soldier protected life. It was a disgrace, a betrayal any time that someone who took that post dishonored it and did anything less. Their power over the moment was a sacred thing. And he wished that he had been able to reach that level, where he could have given that dream, that view of what they were, to more people.

But that time was over and done. Even his dreams of being a pirate commodore were gone. All he could do was pretend.

But at least I can enjoy that much, he thought as he stripped down. Might as well make it good.

An hour later, when he had been on the bridge for about ten minutes, he nodded at Ailsa. The naked stingray pulled on the levers for the ship, and suddenly deceleration hit them hard. It was only the various restraints across the bridge that kept them from going flying across it and slamming into each other or the other parts of the ship, and even then, he could feel the bruises cutting into his chest as the seatbelts pushed down hard.

The Purple Talon system expanded outwards before them. Framed against a vast purple nebula in the shape of a bird's talon, the system itself didn't have much in the way of planets. There were three further out, two of which were more naturally habitable, and a third that was colonized and in the process of terraforming, from what he remembered of the Federation's report on the system. The sun itself, a deep golden color rather than yellow or red, gleamed towards the center of it, calling out to them.

As they slowed down, taking the in-system route at as high a speed as they could manage, Dresnath called up the map from his readings. The dragon's consoles were picking up a number of different ships on patrol as far out as the second planet, keeping an eye on anything that was coming in or out of the system. Some of the smaller things, like food transports or shipping liners, were allowed through. Anything that looked military or like someone was evacuating civilians, however...

Well, the debris showed up just fine on the readout.

"How many ships, Dresnath?"

"I count about sixty capital-class ones, sir, with another fifteen interceptor frigates."

More than enough to keep a location secure, and plenty to interdict a system. If it were up to him, he'd be keeping about half of the capital-class ones near the sun and Starwing Station, just to form a giant death net for anyone that was coming through. The rest would be deployed throughout the system, keeping a scanning net going at all times, with overlap between the different ships. Considering the range of every ship's scanners, he doubted that there was a blind spot anywhere.

He was even more grateful that they had managed to steal this ship. The Breakaway, as maneuverable as she was, would have had no chance of breaking through this net.

They were just passing the outermost planet when Dresnath's console lit up, a hailing signal coming through. At a nod from Klim, the blue dragon pressed the button.

The front screen of the bridge lit up, revealing a yellow dragon, feral, lounging about on a great cushion in the middle of the bridge. He was eating a series of grapes, fed to him by a naked wolf.

"Mmmph. This is - yum! - this is Admiral Torin, of the Shrieking Sickle. Who may I ask is calling?"

"Heh, Admiral Torin, hmm?"

"Wait, I know that voice."

The golden dragon rolled back onto his belly, wriggling across the deck and shoving his nose right up against the camera. He grinned, his eyes twinkling.

"Why, if it isn't old Hexclaw! I thought you were long-gone!"

"Heh, well, I was for a while."

Well, now, this is an opportunity, he thought. If Torin's here, then that makes things a hell of a lot easier...

And the fact that the gold dragon was an admiral, well, that made things even more interesting. The dotty, excitable gold dragon had been a captain bucking for something higher back when he'd been part of the military, but Klim had never thought that Torin would go anywhere with it. He'd been too bouncy, too happy, too...eager, for lack of a better word, to really appeal to the brass. Either things had changed, or someone had pulled a few strings, because the gold dragon had the pins on his chest to mark him as an admiral.

The gold dragon pulled back from the camera, starting to hop and bounce along in the bridge. Klim had to cover his mouth to avoid laughing as naked slaves stumbled and almost fell from the constant shakes that the dragon's bouncing around caused, and he could hear the same stifled laughter coming from the naked stingray at the helm and from the security folf further back.

No, no, no laughing. He's not got that strong a sense of dignity, but you can let him keep that much!

When Admiral Torin finally settled down, flopping down on his cushion again, it was almost like watching a pet dog flop on a couch. The way that the golden dragon's tail was wagging back and forth only added to the image.

"Hehehe, so, when did you get assigned to the Thousand Claws? I thought that was Hecate's ship."

"Well, that's a long story, but let's just say that I'm coming back to the fold."

"You're joining the Soaring Fleet again? That's a big step. Are you sure? I mean, you were pretty angry when you left last time."

"I was," the raptor admitted, feeling all eyes on the bridge staring at him out of the corners of their eyes. "But really, the rest of the galaxy doesn't want me. Maybe you can help me with that."

"Hmmm...I'd really like to, Klim, but that's not something that's up to me."

"Oh? I thought that you were the ranking officer here," he said. "Is there another admiral?"

"Well, not exactly. I am the only admiral here - and as well I should be, being the Admiral Torin, after all - but Commander Rumiir is the one that really calls all the shots around here."

Another name, one that he didn't know so well, but one that he felt that he should remember.

"Is that a member of your staff, or is he somewhere else?"

"He's on Starwing Station. It was his plan that let us seize the place, actually; I'm just here to keep the fleet in place so that it stays ours."

That made sense. He knew Torin was a good man, and a good dragon, but he wasn't a very good officer. He just had too many things that he wanted to do, too many things that constantly distracted him from his duty. Even so, it meant that he had an ally here, and better yet, one that could open the door for him.

"Well, set up a meeting for me, then. I'm sure that he'll be happy to hear we're bringing in more of the NervMed you guys need."

"Oh, you have more? Thank stars, we were getting low."

"I imagine. So, would you mind giving me docking clearance?"

"I see no reason why not. Hehehe, good to have you back, Klim. Just, uh..."

Torin waved one of the slaves over, whispering to the naked mouse just out range of the microphone's listening ability. Klim was tempted to get Dresnath to try and boost the volume, but resisted the urge. He doubted that the gold dragon had that much of a plotting bone in his body. They were safe, at least until they landed.

Finally, Torin turned back and spoke.

"Yes, Docking Bay 34. Should fit you just fine."

"Thanks a lot, Admiral."

"Oh, please. It's Torin, for you."

"Heh, just for me and my dick, huh?"

It was a test to see if the lack of formality between old friends was still there. Thankfully, it was. The feral dragon blushed heavily.

"For you, it's Torin...For your dick, it's Slut, as ever."

"Hehehe, good to hear, Admiral Torin. See you soon."

A gesture to Dresnath cut off the contact, and the questions erupted all around him. He groaned, covering his ears for a moment before barking an order for silence. Even then, they took a moment to get quiet again. He pointed to Ryker first.

"Yes?"

"Okay, pardon me for saying this like this, but, uh...you fucked a fucking dragon?!"

"Well, yes," Klim admitted. "We were both of the same rank for a while. It's not unheard of."

"Good fucking, fuck, fuck, fucker...Was it good?"

"Very."

"Can -"

"Next! Ailsa?"

"_ How do you want to land this, sir? I don't think we can keep the Breakaway hidden if they start sending over repair crews. _"

That was a good point, though he doubted it would be that much of a problem. The ship was holding together well enough, and he knew enough of the work ethics of the mechanics among the hierarchy to know that they would avoid volunteering to fix a ship that wasn't theirs. Unless they were directly ordered by this Commander Rumiir, and even then, he knew that a little suggestion from him would keep them from looking too close.

As long as they weren't that afraid of the commander, at least.

"Just take us in as normal. Make sure that you're broadcasting that we have our own mechanics."

"News to me," Maggie muttered from just beneath his chair.

He looked down at her. The mare was rather annoyed, he supposed, though there was a decent enough reason for that. Rather than the collar and nudity that most of the other non-scalies of the crew were having to put up with, she was wrapped in elegant gold chains, including some that ended in clamps right against her nipples. She hissed every time that they pulled, and she yelped when he moved his tail out from where it had been, right inside her pussy.

"Hey, watch what you're doing."

"I'm just keeping you in place. After all, you don't have any seatbelts like the rest of us."

"Yeah, because I have to sit here and be Captain's Girl. What the hell was that idea about? Nobody said anything."

"It's expected that someone of captain's level or higher keeps some sort of prize near them. Trust me, it's expected, and if you hadn't been sitting there, it would have been commented on.

"Any other questions?"

"Yes, just one, sir."

He looked back at Sollon.

"Yes?"

"I'm assuming that this mission is more of an improv one than anything else. We infiltrate the station, we see where the weak points are, and we decide later how we are going to remove the presence of Commander Rumiir, yes?"

"That's the plan so far."

"What is the plan if we are discovered?"

"That...is a good question. I've been thinking about that for a while, and...Well, to be completely honest with all of you, I have no idea."

All eyes turned to him once more, and the rattle of Maggie's chains underlined the sheer shock of everyone around him. The raptor shrugged, shaking his head.

"I wish I could tell you that I had a perfect plan for getting us all out of here safe and sound, like that last mission, but I don't. I have a few possible ideas, but...well, you can see the situation as well as I can."

Klim gestured at the massive fleet that had been spread across the system.

"Even if that stealth project you and Ailsa had been working on functioned, Maggie, I don't think we'd be able to get past that many ships. The interceptors alone would be able to keep pace with us unless we hit a hard burn, and there's no way that we could get from sun to system edge before one of them caught us. And that's not even counting the sheer amount of fighter craft that the capital-class ships are carrying. If we have to make a get-away, we're going to be playing it by ear, and hoping that something bad happens to the Soaring Fleet."

"So, sir. In other words, your answer for what happens if we get caught?" Sollon repeated.

"Don't get caught," Klim said, chuckling. "That's all I can come up with."

It didn't fill the crew with confidence, but it was better to be honest than lead them forward with faint hope. He leaned forward on his chair, staring into the darkness that was slowly being overshadowed by the sun. The radar readouts showed that Starwing Station was around the other side of the star, so they would be falling into an orbit around it for a brief time to get lined up properly.

As Ailsa pulled them into the right position for the orbit, some bits of the sun's heat getting through their shielding, Klim leaned his head on his hands, looking straight ahead at the curvature where the sun ended and empty space began.

So, Commander Rumiir. Smart enough to sneak a fleet and boarding force in around the Federation's border patrols, and fast enough to accomplish it before they could get anyone in to dislodge you. And ruthless enough to threaten to destroy a whole star just so you can keep the mining station. He closed his eyes. Just how far are you willing to go with everything else, I suppose, is the question. How far will you push your men? How far will you push the regulations? And just how far are you going on your own behalf, versus that of your superiors?

That last one would determine a great many things, but none of them had answers that he could learn without meeting the man himself. He was sure that there was something in the great backlog of Federation reports that he'd been given when he took the contract, but he doubted there was time to go through them now, particularly as he could just make out the speck that was Starwing Station coming around the side of the sun.

"Docking in twenty minutes, everyone," Ailsa said. "Brace yourself; lots of solar winds coming up."

"Bracing," Klim muttered, even as a sudden bump nearly launched everyone out of their seats. Most of them yelped at that part. Maggie yelped as she came back down on his tail.

Consider it revenge for my dick, he thought.

The End