FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The squirrel knew it was a slow day when she, of all furs, was assigned to head 'trade meetings'. Like this one. Something about ... oh, yeah. Plasma. Part of an engine's lifeblood. " ... that's our main need right now. So ... "

"You need seven liters of warp plasma?" A simple head-tilt. "Why?"

"Um, our engines? I just said that." Speaking with a very dry tone. "Here." She handed over a computer pad. Or, rather, slid one across the quartermaster's glossy desktop. "A more complete list of the things we have and can afford to part with." According to Field, anyway. Her whiskers twitched, reluctantly. "Just tell us what you want. I'd recommend the stem-bolts. Apparently, we have too many."

Assumpta, who'd accompanied Juneau, correctly observed, "We only have too many because you hoard them."

"Uh, yeah." A challenging look. "Because, like, what if gravitational sheer rips off the entire outer hull? We'll need to bolt it all back on."

"Unlikely. And, if so, we would probably no longer be alive to fix it ... "

"So, that makes it impractical?" the squirrel asked.

"Regulations require one extra barrel. Not seven." A cool glance. "Typical squirrel behavior."

"Meaning?"

"You have simply substituted stem bolts for acorns. This need to collect. To store. Psychologically, it's rather fascinating."

Juneau just made a face, her bushy tail flagging about. It had been brought to her attention (during the last senior staff meeting) that engineering was using up more than its allotted storage space in the cargo bays. Especially as compared to other departments. And with Luminous having been exiled from the Federation? They needed to re-prioritize long-term storage. More space was being given to mess hall foods (to supplement the food processors, so as not to be overly-reliant on them) and medical equipment. The squirrel had argued that the ship's health was more important than the crew's. No one had agreed with her.

The quartermaster, a snow rabbit, listened to their banter. The pad in his paw, now, he scrolled through the list. "Federation equipment isn't very compatible with our own. As a warning." He puffed up a bit. "Snow rabbit design is much cleaner, much more efficient. However, I'm sure something can be arranged." His tall, slender ears stood to attention, suddenly. He blinked. "You are requesting weapons, as well?" A pause. "I see ... "

"Not weapons." A slight bow. "Upgrades to our tactical systems," Assumpta corrected.

"Isn't that the same as saying 'stronger weapons'?" was his retort.

"Perhaps," the snow leopard admitted. Smart rabbit. "But the captain instructed me to be polite and diplomatic." She couldn't resist adding, "I told him I knew how to 'massage' prey'."

"Is that so?" An eye-smile. "What do you need the upgrades for?"

Juneau rolled her eyes at the blatant flirting.

Assumpta ignored the squirrel's reaction (if, indeed, she even noticed), and eventually continued, "We have a bounty on our heads. The predatory wing of the Federation Council may hire mercenaries to come after us."

"Like the Arctic foxes?" the snow rabbit guessed, smile fading. The snow rabbits and Arctic foxes were long-time enemies, and currently in a state of 'cold war.' One that had the potential to expand into outright conflict at any given time.

The snow leopard bowed her head, again. "Possibly. Better safe than sorry. Besides, if we are, in fact, joining your fleet? Our specs need to be on par with yours. As much as is reasonable, anyway ... "

Juneau crossed her arms as she heard this. Integrating snow rabbit technology with Luminous' Federation systems? That was going to be a mess.

"Agreed. But," the quartermaster added, "I will have to clear this with my superiors, all the same."

"Very well."

"By the way, the last time you negotiated for supplies, I dealt with your captain and chief tactical officer. Two squirrels," the snow rabbit said. "They were most agreeable. A lovely couple." His nose went up-down, up-down in that 'sniffy' way of rabbits. And then it stopped.

It was Juneau who answered, this time, uncrossing her arms. "They'll be delighted to hear that. But they're busy ... " ... probably having sex, she guessed. "Assumpta and I are fully capable of speaking for them. We're engineers."

"I'd noticed." The snow rabbit put the pad down.

Juneau gave him a 'look'. "What's your name again?"

"Merrill." He returned her computer pad, sliding it back across his desk. "You will be pleased to know that the Senate has almost approved your 'field commission' as a High Command vessel. It will only be a matter of days. Once they do, these meetings will no longer be necessary." A slight smile, mostly with his ice-blue eyes. "You did us a great service by warning us of the Federation's deceptions."

"We thought so, too," Juneau said.

Assumpta ribbed her.

"What?" the squirrel squeaked, under her breath.

"Behave," the snow leopard mouthed.

"I was," she muttered. Flushing beneath her pelt, smoothing at her uniform. Since when did predators have any moral grounds to tell prey to behave? Who was the snow leopard to be giving her, a superior officer, orders? Juneau cleared her throat, telling Merrill, as peaceably as she could, " ... we appreciate you taking us into your fleet, though. We really do need the support."

"It is no problem. But until your inclusion is official, mediations and precautions must take place. A formality, if you will."

"Guess I can understand that. Chain of command and all," Juneau relented.

"I am glad we see eye-to-eye." A simple nod. Behind him, out the horizontal, oval-shaped window and past all the ships, the snow rabbit Home-world glistened. Blue and white. Swirls of green here and there. It was a chilly place, most of the time. Though it could get quite hot in the summer. So went the rumor. "Would you two, by chance, care for some lunch? It is nearly time for it."

Juneau hesitated. "I promised someone aboard Luminous I'd, uh ... have lunch. With them." Chester, in particular. The helms-mouse. She and him were sorta, kinda ... breeding. Each other. Like, every day. And while Juneau enjoyed it greatly (and couldn't get herself to stop), the whole affair made her nervous. Intimacy, for the most part, was like a foreign tongue to her reasoned, diagram-laden mind. She knew enough to get by. But she wasn't fluent. As adept as she was with technology, she didn't feel she could master social decorum. Or relationships.

" ... that is too bad," Merrill said. Though he didn't sound very disappointed. "Perhaps, then, the lieutenant would care to join me?"

The snow leopard blinked. "Me?"

"You have no plans, do you? I assume you like to eat ... "

"No," she admitted, quietly. "And yes." A pause, hoping that made sense. "That is: no plans. Like to eat. Respectively."

"Good. Then it is settled." Merrill's ears stood tall and his whiskers gave a few twitches. "You will hear from me tomorrow," the snow rabbit told Juneau, "with answers regarding your supplies. If the weapons upgrades have been approved, a snow rabbit engineering team will be allocated to you."

"Thank you." The squirrel hesitated, picking up her pad. Glancing at Assumpta. Half the ship knew about her and Kody. It was virtually impossible for any female on a star-ship to keep her 'heat' under wraps. The pheromones. The crazed animal behavior. It practically mandated confinement to quarters. And, after her rumored activities on that station a few weeks back? And, then, the doctor entering and leaving her quarters (several times) during her cycle ... wasn't hard to put everything together. She 'had it bad' for rabbits. "Uh, don't be late to your shift ... Assumpta?"

"I won't be," the snow leopard replied, adding, with a keen, knowing glance, "as long you aren't."

" ... never am." Juneau blushed beneath her pelt, scampering off, tail bobbing behind her. The door whooshing shut once she'd gone. So glad to be leaving. Luminous was her refuge.

"You'll have to forgive her. She is rather obsessive," the snow leopard said, when the chief engineer had left.

"Aren't we all, to some degree?" Merrill postured, leaning back. His fluffy-white bobtail flickered, sticking through the 'tail-gap' in his swivel-chair. "I have been known to obsess over many things, myself."

"Such as?"

He tilted his head. "That would be telling."

Assumpta's own fluffy tail swish-wished behind her, all spotted and grey. She sat on the edge of his desk, casually inquiring, "What's on the menu, exactly? Not salad, I hope." She began to purr. Soft but powerful vibrations.

His gave a light mew as he echoed, "You don't like salad? Well ... " He took a lazy breath. Only to sigh it back out, just as slowly. " ... we will have to find something that suits your tastes, won't we?" A sly inquiry. "Do you like carrots?"

They were in the dim, quiet bay, in a shuttle-pod. (Shuttle-pod two, appropriately enough. Which had been rebuilt from scratch after its destruction.) It was convenient place, and private. And halfway between the bridge (where he worked) and engineering (where she did).

" ... I'm not totally oblivious. I can pick up on behavioral cues," Juneau insisted, as the piebald mouse removed her bra-straps. Right side, left side. One by one. With his buckteeth. She helped him with his task, dipping her umber-furred shoulders as needed. "I mean, I don't think they're eating food. I think they're eating each other." Her whiskers twitched. Whispering, shyly, "I know they are."

Chester, having gotten the squirrel bare from the waist-up, mumbled, dreamily, " ... so? I like doing that. And you like me doing it to you ... " He kissed down the line of her spine, hugging her from behind. She wasn't a svelte-hot fur. And, as far as squirrels went, Rella cut a prettier figure (but, then, she would ... being in prime fitness as a security officer, and carrying that body with such a confident personality). But, in that general rodent way, Juneau was 'girl-next-door' cute. Quirky but relatable, both physically and in temperament. Chester was smitten.

"Doing what?" she finally breathed, almost forgetting why she was asking. Her mind was a little hazy.

"Mm." Eyes half-closing, mouthing at her fur. "Eating you ... "

A vulnerable twitch. " ... are you hungry?"

"Starving," he muttered.

"No, I meant for 'food' food." An audible breath. "I was late getting back from the station. I, uh ... we might miss lunch today if we, uh, take too long."

"We'll have time. It's just ... like, we're having dessert first." He said that so innocently.

"I just don't want to ruin your appetite," she whispered.

"Why would you? Why you are, uh ... saying all this?" He sat up, shyly, dishy ears turning red. "Oh." Eyes watering. "Oh. You don't want to breed with me ... uh. I s-see." He grabbed for his shirt, embarrassed. "If ... if you'd rather go to the mess hall ... "

" ... Chester. Hey," she said, turning her head. He was too adorable for her to handle seeing him disappointed. Mouses were contagious like that. Their heartbreak became yours. Their joy, too. They were so cute. Her bushy tail brushed against him. She whispered, privately, " ... sweetie, I do. I really do. Okay?"

"You're acting like you don't." He rubbed at his face, shyly.

"I promise," she whispered. She reached for his paw. Lacing her fingers with his own, squeezing his paw. "Please? I'm sorry ... "

A twitchy nod. He couldn't be mad at her.

And she smiled (more for him than for herself). "Good."

"I worry a lot," Chester admitted. "And when you worry, I worry even more. I wonder if you don't love me ... "

"I do. I love you ... very much," she managed. It was hard for her to say. And she hated that it was. "It's just all this stuff I'm having to deal with lately." She leaned back against him. "This ship is a Federation ship. But, now, we're cut off from all Federation access. So, any future repairs and upgrades will have to be done with snow rabbit technology." A huff. "I'm gonna have to juggle two different operating systems here, and Luminous is gonna become some half-breed beast."

"It's a challenge, then," the mouse suggested, optimistically. "And you have your whole staff behind you."

"Do I? Assumpta is so hard to control. I mean, she disregards my orders when it suits her. She's incorrigible. And she's one loose kitty ... acting like a rabbit. No wonder she breeds every-bunny she meets. She's gonna catch something. Or get pregnant ... "

"H-heh. Every-bunny ... that's funny. You make me smile." The mouse wriggled and giggled. Swinging his legs out in front of him, asking, "Can I take my pants off, now?"

"Sure ... "

Almost naked. Almost ... and, oh, there! Tossing them. The pants. His uniform-shirt? He didn't even know where that was. Up in the cabin, probably. He didn't care. He was flowing over her from behind, hugging her to his white and black-patched chest. "Anyway, you have me ... " Nibbling on her nape, gently.

"Chester, why do you like me?" She had to know.

"Cause you're genuine. And vulnerable inside ... and I think you're attractive," he told her. The short version. He couldn't focus enough to give a longer list of reasons. "You gotta get these off, too," he said, fingers slipping down, down. Dancing down her belly. Into her panties. Beneath the band. He whispered, hotly, "I want you. I need you ... "

She shivered. Damn, he was so romantic.

"Juneau?" he breathed.

" ... yeah?" she mouthed back, weakly. He was nibbling on her neck, again. But more firmly. Drifting to the side. It made her head roll, willingly, wherever he would have it go. "K-keep doing that ... "

"How come you don't want to be with me, like ... in public?" Aside from a few meals, they spent most of their time in her quarters. Or in access tubes. Or in shuttle-pods, like this one. "I see Field and Adelaide touching each other all the time, even on duty. They don't care who knows what they do ... " Being a bridge officer, he witnessed this every day. Those two had a deep, comfortable love. He wanted that.

She had to be careful how she answered this. He was a very sensitive creature. So, she pressed back against him. Grinding. For several seconds. As she felt his paws peel her panties down. "Different furs express themselves in different ways. I'm just a very ... " Slanting her hips. " ... private individual." A pause. "It's hard to change that after twenty-six years. You'll just have to give me time ... "

"I am. I just ... you have to want to change ... " He had her 'in the fur,' finally. And he finished flowing over her backside, hips dipping beneath her tail. He didn't need a lot of foreplay, today. Not after their slow undressing. And this hushed conversation. He acted like he was going to mount her, but ...

" ... I guess so," she eventually responded.

" ... just ... I want," he began, in short, squeaky sentences. "I just want everyone to know how I'm mated to you, and how you make me feel ... "

" ... Chester," she breathed.

"Mm-h?" He gripped her hips. And switched gears, wriggling, turning, dropping onto his back. The mounting could wait.

She melted. Even more. Realizing. "I'll, uh ... I'll work on it. On this. Or, uh ... us," she promised. That's what engineers did. They worked on things. But she could hardly think right now.

" ... I'm not an engine," he breathed, hotly, pushing her thighs apart. "Though I am under your hood."

Just him saying that made her wet. Wetter. She shifted her legs and lifted her tail (big and puffy, arching at the tip), wordlessly. Giving him any last access he needed. Eventually saying, "Well, you do ... " Panting. " ... have that ... what about that mousey motor? I would say you are definitely an engine ... "

"Y-you think you need to ... tinker with me, then ... " Chester sighed, pulling her down. She went, easily, and his muzzle met her petal-lips with a melting smoothness, tongue swiping. Lips mouthing, sucking. Teasing the clitoris but not actually touching it. Not yet. Virtually making out with her vulva. His eyes closed. Whiskers glistening with her nectar. Oh, his nose going haywire, and his tongue on fire. He was eating her like she was fine dining ...

" ... oh, y-yes ... "

Beep-beep. Ba-beep.

"What is it?" Wren asked, comfortably sidling beside her. It was just the two of them. And Ketchy. An all-squirrel staff right now. The bridge was always sparse during lunch-hour (which involved a slightly staggered rotation).

Rella tapped at her tactical panel. "Proximity alarm." Her blunt-clawed fingers flew. "Shuttle-pod just drifted into range."

"Can't be ours. The bay's sealed."

" ... well, maybe Juneau and Chester rolled into the controls?" A cheeky grin. Everyone knew what those two did in there. You couldn't keep a secret on this ship. At all.

"Possibly," Wren replied, lightly. "Could it be from the station?"

"No launches detected." More seriously, now. A squint. "No, this one's of unknown origin. One life-sign." She turned her head, meeting her mate's eyes. "It's faint."

Wren looked to the viewer. "Put it on ... "

The image blinked into view. A small, brown pod. Very angular. Very ugly, in many ways. It slowly tumbled end over end.

"Shall we retrieve it?"

The squirrel frowned. "Remember what happened last time we brought a pod onboard that was of unknown origin? We got ourselves into a no-win scenario."

"There's no quantum variance in these readings," Rella said. "If that eases your mind. Maybe this one's free of intrigue ... "

" ... I don't think we're that lucky."

"Well, I certainly trust your instincts," Rella breathed, half-suggestively.

Wren smiled, in spite of himself.

"Why haven't the snow rabbits spotted it?" Ketchy asked, from the comm. "They're so orderly ... "

"Maybe they think it's from the Arctic foxes. They'd rather we 'test the waters' while they watch," Rella guessed, flittering her tail.

Wren fidgeted. He had to make a decision. "Suppose we better bring it in."

"Under heavy guard, right?" Rella suggested.

A nod. "Of course. You can handle that. We'll go down there together, bring the occupant to sickbay. Ketchy, you'll have the bridge."

"Me?" A nervous chitter from the third squirrel.

"You can handle it," Wren assured. Ketchy had a bit of a confidence problem. Maybe this would help her with that. "I trust you."

She wasn't sure what to say. But his statement touched her.

"Oh, and Ketchy? Alert Juneau and Chester that the shuttle-bay will soon be in use ... " The captain groomed his own tail, bashfully. For just a second. Licking at his fur. " ... I don't wanna walk in on them. Again."

"Aye, sir."

He let go of his tail, now. "Rella, you don't think I should talk to the crew about, uh ... "

" ... where they stage their 'extracurricular activities'?" his mate supplied, cheekily.

A slight squeak. "I swear, I've heard, walked in on, or interrupted over the comm. ... at least one couple every day since we launched. Most days it's more than one."

"We're sentient, sensual animals," she emphasized, "in a confined space. I don't think it can be avoided. Besides, I bet the crew says the same thing about the two of us." A wink. Glancing at her sensor read-outs. They'd made love in the armory this morning. His ready room yesterday. Bedroom (often). Holo-suite (once).

Wren bit back his smile. "Doesn't the captain deserves some special privileges ... "

... chirrup. Someone's comm-badge. Juneau's. " ... hey, guys?" It was Ketchy.

Erratic panting.

"Um, just so you know ... "

A light, squeaky moan. Sound of fur sliding o'er fur, and bodies bumping. Careening.

" ... we'll be using the shuttle-bay in a few minutes, so ... "

A sweaty squirrel-paw fumbling forward, slapping the badge. "U ... uh. U-understood ... "

"He's a wolf," said Kody, simply.

"Obviously," Wren replied. It was ten minutes later. The pod had been retrieved, and its occupant was in sickbay, face-up on a bio-bed. Dressed in very little. Nothing, in fact. So, the doctor had covered him in a light-blue medical sheet. "Tell me something I don't know?"

"He has red eyes. Very peculiar. I'm guessing maybe heightened vision? Or maybe he can see through furs' clothes. Like, X-ray, infrared." Skipping a beat, as if considering whether or not that would be a cool ability. Maybe for a while, he decided. But not permanently (would take away any mystery, shorten foreplay). "Great olfactory senses, too."

"Can you wake him?" Rella asked, flanking Wren. She had a phase pistol holstered against her hip. The tension in her limbs indicated she was ready to use it.

"I could." A hesitation. "He's out cold. Might send him into shock if I wake him up in a strange environment ... " The rabbit looked at his monitors. "Radiation poisoning. Slight concussion. He'll recover, but he's gonna need a few days."

"I've quarantined the pod in the shuttle-bay," Rella said. "Posted a guard."

Wren nodded, pacing toward the furthest wall. Tail fluttering. He turned, paused, then came back. "Get Adelaide."

"Why?" the female squirrel asked.

"She has telepathic abilities. She can look into this thing's ... wolf's," he corrected, "mind."

Kody frowned, injecting, "How deep into his mind are we talking about here? I mean, he's my patient. If he wakes up and feels he's been violated, that's on me."

"Deep enough to help him," was Wren's answer. "And us."

Kody considered, meeting the squirrel's eyes. And nodded, softly. "Alright ... but I wanna monitor the whole thing."

"Of course." Wren looked away from the rabbit, shyly. Nodding to Rella, who nodded back at him and tapped her comm-badge ...

... chirrup. "Adelaide?"

No response.

The pink bat's jaw was at a tantalizing tilt, already plunging downward, smoothly. So careful with those fangs. Those glistening lips. Summer-moist maw almost reaching the thick base of the mouse's ... mm-h. Very stiff. Essence. Almost all of it. It was no problem to close the remaining gap. He was a perfect five inches. And, also, was now at a hilt. She savored the taste, plum-pink eyes glazing as she marinated his best flesh and gave a preliminary swallow.

" ... a ... ah ... " Dazed, effeminate noises.

Chirrup. Again. " ... Field?" It was Rella.

Adelaide telepathically instructed her mate: Be a dear and tell her I'm busy.

Field nodded submissively, losing his breath as her dexterous bat tongue, designed for catching insects, coiled around his shaft like a snake. He lowered his head and blanked out for a second. The pleasure. Oh. Lord.

So, Adelaide, eyes glinting with amusement, fished for the badge herself. And slipped it into the mouse's paw. Go ahead.

" ... um ... " He tapped the little device. Activating his end of the channel.

Right as she began to bob, lightly. Effervescently. Up and down, with a silky slickness. Stopping at the soft ridge of his gorged head. It was his most sensitive spot, and they both knew it. Tongue applying pressure there for a good five seconds. Then, sighing through the nose, she sank back down. Adding a muzzle-twist before she hilted him again. Her nostrils flared.

" ... oh, m-my ... g-ga," he breathed, paws beginning to sweat. He almost flopped backwards. But kept himself, somehow, sitting up.

The voice on the comm-line changed. It was Kody, now, telling Rella (in the background) 'I'm a male ... let me handle it'. "Hey, Field."

"W-what? Kody?"

"We need Adelaide in sickbay. She busy, by chance?" As if it wasn't obvious.

"M-maybe ... "

Voice lowering to a private whisper. "You getting 'muzzle'?"

No response.

"Field ..." The rabbit had given the mouse muzzle before. He knew Field's specific sounds. The way he stammered.

The mouse, knowing that he knew, and not being able to lie, just burned. " ... y-yeah ... "

Adelaide was sliding up and down, eagerly, closing in on her goal. Slowly. Succulently. She hated to rush an 'appetizer' like this.

"No problem." A chuckle. "But we have a patient in sickbay who we need to identify. Finish up soon? Like, right now? And send your girl our way."

Adelaide was sucking. Outright.

Field couldn't even respond to Kody. He just nodded erratically (not realizing it couldn't be seen), slapped at the badge (three times before he succeeded) to cut the channel.

He was drunk on her like pink champagne, and that gave her a great deal of satisfaction. It made her echo-burst. From the throat. And the vibrations had nowhere to go but into his shaft.

A breathless, whisker-twitchy squeak, squeak, tail flailing, toes curling, tingling all over, and ... and ...

... Adelaide came through the sickbay doors. Swallowing a few times (she could still taste him). It was four minutes later. "This better be good. It's a sin to leave a mouse in afterglow," she announced. Her uniform was a bit unkempt. She'd obviously dressed in a hurry. Though the sapphire bow on her rudder-ish tail was perfectly in place.

"We need your mind," Wren told her.

Kody, just within earshot, muttered, "Among other things." There was no denying that that bat was very pretty.

Adelaide actually grinned at that. Jutting her hips in vampish fashion. "Careful. I'm taken," she warned.

"I never would've guessed," Kody teased, grinning with mock-innocence.

Wren, clearing his throat, continued, "If we can concentrate for a second?" He waited. Sighing. "We found a wolf on a drifting shuttle-pod. He's hurt. He won't wake for awhile, but I want to know who he is. Then we can crosscheck his records in the furry database. He could be a refugee. Could be dangerous. We don't know."

"Could be from the future?" Adelaide posed. Remembering their encounter with the future human (and his physics-bending shuttle-pod).

"Something like that."

The bat nodded and took a few steps toward the wolf, whose chest was rising and falling with every breath.

Adelaide, soon looming over him, told the others, "I'll do what I can, I guess." A pause. "I normally don't go into furs' minds unless I'm invited. Or unless I'm biting them," she added. And, nowadays, she only bit Field.

"Is it that hard?" Rella asked.

"No." A breath. "It's that easy," she replied, very quietly. A sigh. Closing her eyes, now. Here goes ...

The other furs waited. Watching her.

She didn't faze. Just began, "His name is Pyro."

"Pyro?"

"Like ... having to do with fire?" Kody asked.

"I can only give you cursory details. Total specifics require ... a more intimate bonding." The biting. "His name is Pyro," she repeated. "He was accompanied by two ... wasps," she whispered, "on the pod. There was an accident."

"Accident?" Wren questioned.

"Wasps?" asked Rella, concerned.

"That's the best I can do. His mind's asleep." Her eyes opened, and she stretched her winged arms. As if she'd just emerged from intense concentration (which she had). The velvety membranes of the wings were so beautiful, almost translucent. Almost. Then her arms fell back to her sides in a blur of color. " ... anything else?"

"There were no wasps on the pod," Rella stated. "No remains of any, either. Unless they vaporized ... and we would've picked up trace molecules, if that were the case ... "

"Maybe they got flushed into space," Kody guessed.

"Then why didn't 'Pyro' here?"

"Wasps are highly xenophobic," Wren remembered. "We know little about them other than they're a massive threat."

Rella considered. "You think they're actually in this system?"

"I don't know ... but go to yellow alert. Prepare to go to red, if necessary."

Rella nodded, her bushy tail jerking about. "The snow rabbits are fanatical about monitoring their borders. I don't even understand how this pod made it here." Her nose and whiskers twitched. Too many questions.

"Am I done?" Adelaide asked, plum-pink eyes narrowing in irritation.

"Yeah. For now," Wren said.

"Well, I'm gonna be paws-deep in mouse for the next fifteen minutes, so ... if you need me again, you'll have to send a medical team to pry me off. Or, you know, just leave a message." She padded for the door. "Also, can I extend my lunch break?"

Wren nodded.

A dominant, toothy smile, flapping through the sliding doors. Out into the corridor.

"Rella, let's get back to the bridge. I'm feeling nervous." As if something were about to happen. Predators and wasps? What good could come from that?

On the exterior of the ship, on the hull, spindly legs making no sound in the black, black void.

Two wasps (somehow surviving in the vacuum) stalked along the saucer section of the ship, peering darkly into windows as they passed. Reaching a junction of access tubes. A docking port. It was there that they began to bore into the hull. With stingers, mandibles, a laser scalpel. And sheer strength.

Somehow, breaching the metal.

Raspy buzzes as they flittered into the ship.

Speaking to each other in the darkened corridor (with its air now being vented into space).

One of the wasps waggled his antennae. The wolf was in sickbay. He could sense it.

That was their destination.

BLARE!

Red lights, red lights ...

... BLARE!

"Eek!" The mouse's heart hammered, in surprise. Eyes wide. Very much 'in the fur' and still in bed. Bare and honey-wheat. Waiting for his mate's return. What, what ...

... the alarm klaxon. Hurting his sensitive ears.

Thoughts swam to Adelaide, as always, as often.

What happened?

What was going on?

He didn't like surprises.

The computer soon clued him in as it announced, "Warning. Hull breach. C-Deck decompression in one minute. Warning ... "

Field froze. Hull breach? Decompression?! I'm on C-Deck ... oh, no. His anxiety spiked. Suddenly and sharply. Fight or flight. He chose flight (good choice, good choice). Prey instinct screaming, 'Scurry, scurry, scurry!'

My mate ... my mate ... where is she ...

... blinding fear.

Everything repeating and stumbling back on itself.

He was already at the door. Naked. Realizing it. Back to the bedroom, super-quick. Wriggling into his clothes in ten seconds flat. Then back to the door, again. Again. And, Lord, it wouldn't open ...

"What the hell was that?" Wren asked, getting out of his chair (which he never sat in for very long).

"Um ... " Rella's eyes darted. A squirrel twirl (a graceful spin-around). Scanning the monitors behind her.

"Warning," announced the computer. "Hull breach. C-Deck decompression in ... "

"Um ... well, I guess we've been compromised," Rella offered helplessly. "There's nothing I can do ... "

"Wasps?" Wren was already at tactical, with her. Peering over his mate's shoulder. "Rella, force-fields. Anything. Close the breach."

"I'm trying. It should've been closed automatically. Force fields are designed to go into effect if air's being vented. There are back-ups to the back-ups."

"Yet we're venting air ... "

"The intruders must've sabotaged the power relays on their way in." Her heart was racing. "They must know our systems."

"Have everyone evacuate that deck. Now."

"I already initiated the protocol," Rella said. "I mean, I ... " She pounded at the controls in anger.

"How many furs," Wren whispered, trying to restrain her. Touching her arm. " ... how many are on that deck?"

"Right now? Um ... only twelve." Luminous had eight decks. C-Deck was mostly quarters/living space. But most of the crew had returned from their lunches. Either that, or they were on the snow rabbit station. "If they don't get off before then, they'll suffocate."

"I know," the captain breathed. Trying to control his rodent anxiety. It was extremely difficult, but a good leader couldn't show weakness in a crisis.

"Captain," said another voice. Chester. The black-and-white (piebald) mouse, who had returned from the shuttle-bay (and then lunch in the mess hall) only a few minutes ago. "Captain, we're moving away from ... we're moving into a decaying orbit." His paws flew over his consoles. "I don't understand ... "

"All halt! Cut engines," Wren ordered. Calling, over the comm., "And, Juneau, seal that damn breach!"

" ... I told Assumpta we needed those fucking stem bolts!" was the chief engineer's vindicated, chittery reply.

Wren didn't understand a word of that. And didn't have time to ask. He left tactical and went around the railings. Down to the helm. To Chester.

"Someone's tapped into helm control," the mouse said. Voice displaying his fear. His whiskers twitched. His paws shook. "We're losing ... "

The lights flickered.

" ... main power," Chester finished, gulping, craning his head upward. Pink nose all a-sniff.

"Switching to auxiliaries," Rella said, immediately.

"We're being contacted by the snow rabbits. They're demanding," Ketchy announced, "to know what's going on. They want our status."

Wren's head spun. "Tell them to take a number."

And the computer stopped its countdown. C-deck had been decompressed.

Power was out.

The air was gone, and the heat was going with it ...

... and a masked nose poked around a corner, belonging to a big-eared head. Field. Floating and squeaking. Bumping into the ceiling. Having found (and put on) an oxygen mask. Just in time, too. In one of the supply cabinets at the nearest junction. He shivered. He could breathe, but he still needed to get off this deck. No gravity. No temperature control. No lights.

The mouse tried to scurry. And ended up doing a somersault in mid-air. Bumping his rump against the wall.

He began to squeak, which fogged his mask. Great. I can't see, now, he moaned inwardly. Forcing himself to take slow, steady breaths. Slow. Down. And think. If you can get to the floor, you can grab at the carpet (furry ships and stations were almost entirely carpeted, being that everyone was in bare foot-paws all the time). You can pull at the threads. Work your way forward. Slowly ...

... it took him five minutes.

The beam form his paw-beacon erratically darting.

'Til he made it to the nearest lift. It wasn't working! He floated weakly, tail like an umbilical cord as he curled up into a mousey ball ... so cute. A sigh. What am I going to do? A blink. Access tubes! He went for an access tube. Pulled off the hatch. But the lack of gravity carried him with the hatch, and they both hit the ceiling. He broke the beacon. And hurt his paw, crying out in the pitch-black. Another half-minute to feel and work his way to the tube's opening. Finally, he crawled inside ... crawl-crawl. Wriggle. Bumping, floating. Until he reached a junction. And a ladder. And climbed. Reaching a platform. A door. He opened it, and w-whoosh ... whoosh ...

... air!

Light!

And paws pulling him into it.

"Field!"

His gravity returned right as fell into her winged arms. "Adelaide," he cried. Tearing his mask off, sinking slowly to the floor. Whimpering. Kissing her chin and cheeks. He buried his nose into her fur, breathing deep.

She went with him, to her knees. "Field," Adelaide said again, more softly now. "Darling ... " She put a paw on his neck. He felt cold. And his pulse was sluggish. " ... thank God." She was too shaken to say anything else. She needed a moment.

And so did he. Shivering, clutching at her. " ... are you okay?"

"I'm okay," she whispered. "I'm okay. I hadn't made it back to our deck before the accident happened. Then I sensed you with my 'feelers' ... I knew you were coming this way ... "

"I love you," he breathed.

She smiled, pulling him into a hug. "I love you, too."

"I can't feel my tail," he whispered.

"We should take you to Kody. Can you stand?"

A weak nod.

"Status?" Wren asked. His eyes hurt. And his head.

"The entirety of C-Deck is uninhabitable. Juneau's dispatched her emergency crews, as well as a repair team in EV suits. She says it's small enough that they can mend the breach and re-compress the deck within three hours."

Wren nodded, grumbling, "Doesn't feel small." A pause. Not wanting to ask it, but ... " ... did we lose anybody?"

"No casualties. Minor injures ... including Field," Rella said.

"Field?" Wren's breath caught.

"He's alright." Her voice softening. "He just got some bruises and is in a bit of shock. Kody's treating him, now. Everyone's okay," she reiterated.

Wren's whiskers twitched. A sigh of relief.

"Sir, I still can't regain control of the helm," Chester called.

Wren turned, instructing, "Not even with backup power?"

"I've tried, but I've been locked out."

"By who?" A frown.

"I don't know." Manic twitching. "It's a slow descent, but we have six hours, at most, to regain control. Or we're gonna become a shooting star."

"But the intruders will kill themselves, too," Wren said.

"Not if they get what they want and leave before then," Ketchy said, fearfully.

Wren paused. Thinking. Letting out a breath. Almost zoning out.

"Wren," Rella whispered.

He looked to her. "Mm?"

"The snow rabbits are contacting us again. They're demanding to know our status."

"Tell them to stand by."

"I already did. Three times." A pause. "We're in orbit of their Home-world. I have to give them something."

"Tell them to ... " A sigh. " ... ask them for help," he whispered. "Tell them we need help. Have them tractor us to a higher orbit. That should alleviate one problem. They can coordinate with Juneau and yourself. Don't say anything about wasps. Just intruders. We don't have all the details yet, ourselves."

She nodded quietly.

Wren, squinting, eyed the viewer.

What was going on? What had just happened here?

"Lucky mousey," Kody said, with affectionate relief, running a medical device over Field's muzzle. Down to his shoulder and side. The device beeped and hummed. "You'll be okay." He put a paw on Field's fore-arm. He couldn't resist feeling that soft, earthy fur.

Field let out a deep breath. Offering a shy, whiskery smile.

The rabbit stumbled. " ... uh ... I would advise taking it easy for the next day. Your stress levels are through the roof." A pause. Licking his dry lips. "But you're a mouse, so I don't expect you'll keep still at all."

"I'm also the first officer. I have duties. I should get to the bridge ... "

" ... I know. I just want you to ... "

" ... I'll rest later," Field assured, sitting up.

Adelaide piped in, "He will. I promise." A not-so-subtle wink.

The rabbit shook his head, smiling at that. Almost jealously. "Yeah ... well, in that case ... "

" ... wasps."

"Wasps what?" Kody squinted, looking to Field.

"What?" The mouse blinked.

"I thought you said ... "

Adelaide's eyes indicated the source.

The doctor turned. And so did Field. The wolf. Pyro. On his back (still), breathing laboriously, huffing, "W-wasps ... "

"How's he awake? That's not possible," said the rabbit, hopping toward the wolf. Reaching for a scanner.

But Pyro's paw closed around the rabbit's wrist.

The doctor made a surprised mew-sound. "O-ow ... "

"Wasps," Pyro rasped (for the third time). Not in the best of conditions. Deadly tired. Maybe he was delusional. "They're here." He loosened his grip on the rabbit.

The lights flickered.

Adelaide craned her neck.

Field's whiskers twitched.

"They're coming for me."

"How did you get here?" Kody pressed. "Why do they want you?"

"You're in grave danger," he insisted, not really answering the question.

"We're helping you. Can you help us?" whispered Field, diplomatically.

And the lights flickered again.

So, Pyro, in the name of survival and cooperation, told his tale ...