FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Anything interesting along our course?" Aria asked.

"Aside from sensor echoes?" Elim glanced over his shoulder, casually. "The usual traffic."

"Care to elaborate?" She moved up beside him. They were on Arctic's pristine bridge, toward the back. They'd undocked from Redwing Station a few hours ago, mid-morning, and had crossed back into High Command space to begin their patrol route.

Looking down at his controls, his eyes scanned the readouts. "A few smaller ships. High Command designations, but presumably under civilian control. We're the only 'heavy' starship in this sector."

Aria nodded. "What's this?" She tapped a black-clawed, white-furred finger against a stray dot.

"A comet," Arctic's chief tactical officer said. He'd been Aria's most-trusted deputy back on Orbital 9. That 'trust' had led to them breeding together, even after she'd mated Ross, the meadow mouse, who was now in charge of the ship's mess hall. Not to worry, though. The rodent benefited from Elim's affections, too, via the occasional threesome ...

"There's been a dearth of comets in my life," Aria quipped, lightly. "Characteristics?"

"Fast-moving, short-tailed ... " A subtle smile. "Could be one of us," he said, referring to snow rabbits.

"It is in our space," Aria admitted, even more playfully.

"Well, for now. Its orbit is taking it into the UT and back again." He traced its invisible path. "Very elliptical. In one of the solar systems along the border."

The constable-turned-captain nodded. "I wonder if we should pay periodic visits to all these border colonies? Like a 'goodwill tour' on behalf of the Council. I doubt they get many official Home-world visitors out here." She paused. "I don't want any snow rabbits feeling marginalized or forgotten." Especially in the aftermath of the war, when most resources would be focused on the inner core worlds, as well as rebuilding the fleet. It was important to remain unified. Who knew what the future held?

"All the border worlds have Council members representing them. They have a voice," Elim insisted. "No one is forcing them to live this far out."

"Sometimes, you don't choose your home. Circumstance chooses it for you," she pointed out, wisely. "I'll send out communiqués in the next few days, to the various colonies, advising them of our presence. Assuming they don't already know." They should've been notified, but as with all governmental red tape, things sometimes got lost. "As you inferred, there hasn't been a true starship in this region since before the war ... " During the last weeks of the conflict, all available military-grade vessels had been pulled to the interior. She thought for a moment before wondering aloud, "Are these planets out here anything like home?"

"A few," Elim recalled, pulling up the data. "Most are mild. They have their warm and cold seasons." So did the Home-world. It was just that the cold season tended to be much longer and fiercer than the warm one. "There's a single tropical planet, looks like, consisting of ninety percent water ... but the snow rabbit population on that one seems to be fairly small. Only a few hundred. Nothing compared to the colonies on the colder planets." Tap-a-tap. Tap. "Those have populations up to the hundreds of thousands."

"I'd imagine it would take an odd sort of snow rabbit to live on a jungle world," Aria agreed. "But, nonetheless, they are fellow citizens, and we are here to protect them. Though we may find the residents more independently geared in these parts. That is the frontier mindset, isn't it?"

"One would assume, yes. They may even resent our presence."

"Well, let's hope not. Because we're not going anywhere. And we may need their help if something goes horribly wrong in the UT."

"With you in charge, I doubt things will go wrong," he told her.

Aria, with a warm, restrained smile, went quiet for a moment, allowing her fingers to brush the male's white-furred wrist in a gesture of idle affection.

He gave her an admiring glance, black nose sniffing at her scent.

"Do you have plans tonight, by chance?" she asked, lowering her voice to a whisper. Elim was an open-breeder, like most of their species. And like herself, in a way. She and Ross had a 'semi-open' mate-ship. They could 'fool around' with the other's expressed approval. Neither had really taken advantage of that except with Elim, who, being a senior officer on the ship, had attracted the attention of a few does since their initial launch. Some of whom he'd been delightfully indulging ... but Aria was undoubtedly the best of them.

"Plans? Not yet," was his honest response.

"You do, now," a paw moving across his computer console. She tapped in a time and location.

His eyebrow raised. "Is that an order, ma'am?" he whispered back, glancing at what she'd entered.

"Yes."

Elim just swallowed, eagerly. Who was he to disobey orders?

Pulling back, the captain left the tactical area with a sensual cadence to her bare foot-pawed gait, moving into the lower section of the bridge, where her chair rested, a little behind the helm position. She began conferring with the pilot about the comet, and how maybe they should plot a course that ran closer to it so they could run some scans, maybe gather some samples for the science lab.

Another snow rabbit, Kaplan, the Communications officer, used this moment to sidle up to Elim at tactical and ask, "What was that all about?"

"Mm?"

"You know. The hushed conferral."

"Comets," was the half-truthful reply.

"I'm only buying that if it's a euphemism for sperm," Kaplan replied, frankly.

Elim mewed with mirth. "If comets are akin to space seeds, does that make planets the eggs?"

"You were flirting with the captain," Kaplan insisted. "Don't deny it."

"Most worlds with sentient life were frequently struck by space objects, after all, in their primordial stages. Perhaps an unintentional fertilization did occur, and we all come from a fusion with comets? We could have stardust in our blood."

"You are attempting to derail my inquiry." Kaplan was more serious than some other snow rabbits. But he a teenager, nine or ten years younger than Elim, fresh out of the Academy. With all the officers lost in the war, a lot of attendees had been rushed into early graduation.

"Flirting isn't against any regulations that I know of. I'm sure I've seen you doing it."

"Yes, but ... "

"So, what's it to you?" Elim asked, authoritatively.

Kaplan faltered a bit, mumbling, "I'm the comm officer."

"And you like to be the first to hear every story, private or not? Don't you have duties to attend to, ensign?" Elim, being a few inches taller, looked down into Kaplan's ice-blue eyes. The young snow rabbit would mellow in time, surely. But Elim, being the more seasoned of the two, wasn't going to be pushed around.

The younger male grumbled a bit. He'd been hoping for a juicy story, yes. When you knew everybody's business, it put you on equal footing, didn't it? And the captain was hot. There was no denying that. Perhaps he was a bit jealous. Of all the males on the ship, to be passed over for a mouse? And now she was taking Elim to bed, too? Really? A security officer, all strong, confident, and in control. How cliche. I'm younger than him. I'm in my prime! Maybe I'm not as good at paw-to-paw combat or wielding powerful weapons, but I'm an expert linguist. I could whisper such poetry in her ear ...

"Ensign?"

"Mm?" Kaplan blinked, slightly embarrassed.

"Perhaps you should return to your station."

"Well." An awkward pause. "I'll be keeping my ears open," Kaplan promised before hopped away, back to his little alcove to the left.

Elim's eyes just sparkled with mirth as he looked back at his controls and refocused himself on his duties, wondering if he was that impertinent in his youth. And also thinking briefly about comets ...

On Redwing Station, Barrow squinted and glanced around the empty, dark infirmary, his new workspace, nudging aside a hollow storage container with a bare foot-paw. There was hardly a clear path to walk in here. And it smelled faintly of chemicals. "What a fucking mess," he muttered, flapping his wing-arms in annoyance. Which incidentally made a huge dust cloud billow and swirl, causing the bat to have a sneezing, coughing fit.

"Ack ... ah ... " Eyes squeezing shut, he stubbed his toes against something metallic. A chair leg or something. "Dammit!" He craned his neck upward, chittering in pain. "Computer, lights!" No response. "How 'bout activating a fan vent?" Also, it would be nice if the temperature were a few degrees higher. But he didn't push his luck. The computer core still wasn't fully active, anyway. Sheila and Seward were working on it.

Barrow knew that Seward was slightly attracted to her but hadn't the confidence to act on it, what with his injury and near-death experience and all. If he were a healthier snow rabbit, like Graham, he would've made a move already.

The bat wouldn't put it past Sheila to sleep around just to 'prove' she didn't have feelings for anyone in particular. Stubborn-ass hare. She likes me. I don't need to read her mind to know that. She can deny it all she wants.

"I need some damn lights!" he chittered, huffing as he continued to explore the infirmary, clearing his head and trying to focus on the task at wing. The emergency back-up lights were on, of course, but only dimly, glowing their now-familiar shade of blue. He wondered, not for the first time, what species of bird had built this place. Maybe owls. Maybe that's why it's so dark and drab, he mused sarcastically.

He used a wing-arm to clear a bio-bed. Or what looked to be a bio-bed. Lots of empty vials had been lying there. They scattered across the carpet with dull clatters. Knowing how unruly the UT was, they'd probably contained doses of illegal drugs rather than helpful medicines. He wondered if all the original medical equipment had been stolen? Most likely. But they'd unloaded tons of replacement supplies off Arctic. None of it had been unpacked yet, but he wouldn't be lacking for the most up-to-date scanners, surgery devices, and diagnostic tools. Which was a relief, really. When he'd lived with the rogue roost, he'd had limited access to stuff like that. Even as a Federation medic, his access to equipment had been restricted because the predators hadn't trusted him.

Squinting, he sensed there were more rooms in the back. Surgery rooms, probably. A lot of the doors had been jammed open. It was hard to tell for sure. He didn't want to wade through the mess, so he let forth a series of echo-bursts, high-pitched sonic waves. All of which bounced back to his sweeping ears, painting an intangible picture in his mind. It was very useful.

As he was doing this, a bright beam of light suddenly shone over his shoulder. He turned to identify the source, shielding his face. "Who's there?"

"It's me," replied a light, gentle voice. It carried a bit of squeak. Behind the paw-beacon were silhouetted ears. Big dishy ones, like eclipses. "I heard noises ... "

"Oh. Herkimer. Right," Barrow said. He could've used his telepathy to determine that. But, sometimes, in the heat of the moment, it was easier to ask. But now that he'd stopped sneezing and his toes had stopped throbbing, he allowed those telepathic feelers to slip into the mouse's mind. "I was just doing a little echo location." A pause. "What are you doing here?"

"What? Oh. Um." He stammered some before rambling, "Well, I've checked around with everyone. Then just started tidying on my own. I was going to eat lunch with Advent, but she was in a bad mood this morning. So, I figured I'd let her simmer. It normally takes her a few hours." He hesitated, eyes darting. She was often in a bad mood. Mostly for silly reasons. She wasn't very tolerant of other's opinions, but expected everyone to be tolerant of hers. And ... well ...

"And she eats a lot of meat, I bet."

"Yeah ... "

"And you don't. Bet that makes it hard to share meals."

"Yeah," he repeated. The mouse lowered his paw beacon, whiskers twitching. "You're reading my thoughts, aren't you?"

"It's a habit," Barrow admitted, with an unapologetic smile. "Don't worry. I've good intentions." He paused for a moment before assuring, "I'm here to help. I'm your personal doctor, now, remember?"

Herkimer gave the bat a shy, trusting look. That was true ...

"Any aches and pains you want to tell me about?"

"Me? No."

"Are you sure?" he pressed, gently. He was trying to get the mouse to admit that the jaguar, his so-called 'mate,' was abusing him.

The rodent hesitated.

"How'd you end up with her, anyway?"

Herkimer took a deep breath. "We were the first two to arrive here. Several days before everyone else. This place is so big and mysterious. Felt kinda scary, to be honest. She took an interest in me. It made me feel wanted. And safer." He lowered his voice, bashfully. "And then things started to happen ... "

The bat could guess what those 'things' were. His eyes widened a bit as his 'feelers' picked up on something. "You were a virgin before you met her?"

He hesitated. "Yeah ... "

"But you're twenty-eight."

A sheepish nod.

"Wow. I was having sex at sixteen ... " He just took it for granted that furs would start young. Especially male furs.

Herkimer nodded again, whiskers twitching awkwardly.

The mouse's situation made much more sense to Barrow, now. It went beyond his mousey innocence and prey vulnerability. He was completely inexperienced in relationships. So, he figured any problems in his 'romance' with the jaguar were his fault. Advent let him think that, taking advantage of the mouse's sweet nature to occupy the higher ground. She was a predator, after all. They often enjoyed being in control.

"Sex is a bonding experience as much as anything else, mousey," the bat insisted. "And, if you're not aware of that, of the subtle differences between love and lust, it can make you think you love someone when you don't." God, Barrow, you sound like a public service announcement. Or a head doctor. Since when are you a relationship expert?

"I don't know what you mean," Herkimer insisted. He really didn't want to talk about this.

"I think you do." The bat wanted to hug the poor mouse. But he didn't. He's overwhelmed. When he's ready to deal with things, he can come to me. "So, I could use a paw tidying the infirmary here, if you're not too busy," he suggested, finally. Maybe if he spent more time with him, he would further let his guard down. Besides, it would be nice to make a real friend around here! Other than Sheila, of course.

"You want me to help you?" The bat came off as so capable and confident. The mouse had a hard time believing he couldn't do anything himself. He admired that quality greatly, because he sometimes lacked self-esteem. Dominant personalities had a way of bowling him over.

"Would speed things up. It's hard to move stuff when you don't have proper paws. Or, at least, it's not easy to grasp the heavier things," Barrow admitted, holding up his wing-arms for display. They were so exotic, velvety and thin, and you could see the bones inside like struts in an alluring kite. They all ended in points rather than digits. Except for one strut on each, which extended beyond the wings to form extra-long, hooking thumbs.

"I've never met a bat before you," the mouse admitted, quietly, as if it were a secret. "You're so interesting ... "

"Heh. Thanks." Barrow's ego inflated a bit. He turned around, as if modeling himself playfully. Even though he had a uniform on. "It's believed, millennia ago, our telepathic powers also extended to telekinesis. Moving things with the mind. But as we integrated more with other furs, and societies popped up, and technology advanced ... " He trailed off, then added, "We lost that part of ourselves. And only retained the intangible powers. The telepathy. That's one of the many reasons I became a 'rogue.' Mental powers need to be exercised fully, used to capacity, or else they become vestigial. Nature gave us these abilities. They're an advantage. An asset. We'd be complete fools to waste them. I don't care what other species think. They'd feel the same way if they had them. They're just jealous and afraid of what they can't understand."

"V ... vegetable?"

"Vestigial," Barrow repeated, giving the mouse a patient smile. "In medical terms, it's an organ that's vital and then, over time, loses its usefulness and becomes latent."

"Oh." Herkimer nodded, not knowing what to say to that. Only that, "Mouses aren't so fascinating. We don't have powers or wings or echo-bursts ... you know, unique things like that." His whiskers twitched. "Even our tails are plain."

"I knew a mouse on Luminous whose tail was prehensile."

"Mine isn't. I'm just a boring house mouse."

"Boring? Someone so sweet and cute? Impossible."

Herkimer's ears blushed, deeply. He wasn't used to being flattered like this! Advent would compliment him a lot, but it was usually in a sly way, as if she was trying to get a specific reaction for her personal entertainment.

"I don't think you're boring, mousey," Barrow continued. "You just need to believe in yourself a little more."

"Well, uh ... maybe." He cleared his throat, squeakily, changing the subject off himself before he got even more flustered. "I suppose I can stay and help you, though." A pause. "If you really need me ... "

"I do."

"Alright." A dimpled smile from the rodent. "I guess if anyone wants supplies off my cart, they can call my comm-badge."

"We'll get started, then! After we eat," the bat insisted. "I haven't had lunch yet, either. Let's sit down outside, though. It's a bit stuffy in here." Not to mention unhygienic. He looked around and made a face.

"We'll get this place into shape," the mouse told him, seeing his look. "If our intentions are good, it'll all work out."

"I'm too worldly to buy into that," Barrow replied quietly. Herkimer really was naïve, wasn't he? But, nonetheless, he hoped the mouse was right.

Seward winced, wriggling on his back beneath an exposed circuit relay. "What's wrong?" Sheila asked, standing nearby.

"My back," he muttered, as way of explanation. His spine, in particular. Some of the discs. And his stomach, too. And this. And that. "I'll be fine. Just a few more adjustments." He'd dealt with muscle pain and nausea for weeks, now. It was getting better, but slowly. Luckily, he had a high tolerance for things.

"You're sweating," Sheila told him, squinting in the dimness. They were at some random junction between Ops and the Promenade. As agreed, they were working restoring power one area at a time rather than doing the whole station at once. Not just to scan for viruses and problems, but also to avoid an overload. "Maybe you should take a break? Or have Barrow take a look at you." The bat may have been full of it, but she'd seen nothing to indicate he was a bad medic.

"Just a few more ... adjustments," he repeated, passing a humming spanner over some optical data lines. Then reaching out to touch them, gingerly. If they were still faulty, he would've been shocked. He wasn't, though. And followed them to their plug-in spots, making sure they were secure. "This is really outdated technology. High Command ships use bio-neural relays, not 'hardware' like this. Eventually, we're gonna have to do a complete system overhaul."

"Well, I'll pencil that down for two years from now," Sheila said, dryly. "When we're a thriving oasis in the UT and have the officers to spare. For now, I think we're just gonna have to make do. I doubt the High Command wants to invest in a total revamp unless they're getting a guaranteed return."

"You make them sound so dispassionate."

"Governments often are."

"The High Command isn't the Federation," Seward defended.

"Not yet."

The snow rabbit frowned. He didn't want to start an argument. So, he continued his work. "This station may be old, but in spite of my complaints, it's held up for quite come time. It's durable. I'll give it that." He winced again, wriggling the wrong way. Ouch, ouch. He wriggled back and sighed. "I'm sure there are secrets we've yet to stumble upon. I hesitate to open all the cargo bays in the lower sections. I'm afraid we'll find ... " Well, he didn't know. Contraband? Bodies, maybe?

"If it's a threat, I'll deal with it. If not, there's no reason to worry," Sheila assured, toughly, flagging her tail and crossing her arms. And eventually tapping a big, bare foot-paw with growing impatience. "You sure you don't need help?"

He tinkered a bit more. " ... fixed," he finally said, with relief, sighing and pulling back, wincing again as he tried to sit up. "I think we can power up this level."

Sheila extended a paw.

Seward hesitated before taking it, blinking as she pulled him upright. She was strong.

The hare noticed his look, saying, "I have a good training regimen."

"Right." He swallowed, looking around before settling on a nearby computer console. He limped toward it, using both paws to tap at the interface. "Ready?"

Sheila just nodded.

A few taps and the lights hummed to full power, the air started circulating. The computer chirruped a few times. Seward tapped at a monitor. "These controls are still a bit foreign to me, but ... " He nodded, ears twiddling. "Looks fine. That's three levels down. Only twenty more to go."

"I thought it was twenty-one?"

"Well, something like that." They'd already done Ops, the ward room, and this one, so ...

"Are you sure there's no booby traps? They can be embedded pretty deep."

"You saw me run through all the safety protocols. If you want to double check, you may," Seward allowed.

"Mm. No. Let's just move on ... " You have to learn to trust those you work with, Sheila. Not everyone is incompetent.

Seward, cane in one paw and toolkit in the other, began to limp down the corridor.

"I can carry that," she insisted, of the kit.

"I've got it." He took a deep breath, asking, "You spent time in the UT, right? But you never saw this place before recently?"

"The UT's a large place," she reminded. "I don't think we even came within three days of the High Command border. We heard rumors of an old facility. But they all involved furs meeting very bad ends. And, besides, we were pretty sure that, even if it did exist, everything good had already been stolen from it. And that's the only reason we'd want to visit."

"So, you were on a ship of mercenaries?"

"Pyro preferred to call us 'colorful characters left to our own vices'."

"That sounds much better, I agree."

Sheila smiled in spite of herself. And maybe she was imagining it, but she thought she saw a gleam in the snow rabbit's eye.

"What's in yours?" Seldovia asked, sitting on the floor, her back resting against a polished bulkhead. They were in a corridor on the habitat ring, taking a break from cleaning and repairing.

"Food," was Advent's dry response, as she tore open a ration pack with her fangs. She didn't bother sitting down like the others. She wanted to maintain a dominant position.

"Shouldn't use your teeth to tear things open. Not good for 'em," Petra advised, her thick, ropy tail curling off to the side.

"Nature disagrees."

"Guess that means she's havin' meat," Petra told Seldovia.

The skunk sniffed the air. "Smells like fish to me."

"A tuna sandwich. Or a horrible facsimile," Advent declared. "Happy, Stripes?"

Seldovia held up her black-furred paws, innocently. "I was just curious. And don't call me Stripes."

Annika, bobtail flickering lightly, lowered to her knees in a prim, proper way and tore open a pack of her own. Vegetable medley. She'd need a fork for this. "We've made progress, haven't we? We're halfway through this section." She reached into a nearby container for some utensils. "No forks?"

"Guess you'll hafta use a spoon like us commoners," Petra said.

The ambassador just gave the rodent a look.

She smiled back, her buckteeth jutting out.

"One percent down. That's progress, alright," Advent muttered, taking a big chomp from her sandwich. Chew, chew.

"At least it's not all by paw," Seldovia added. Sure, they had to pick up everything, throw things away, sweep. But they didn't have to scrub or spray anything. They had UV light sterilizers for that.

"I didn't sign up to be a maid."

"Maybe we should be wearing frilly dresses," Seldovia said, lightly, flagging her luxurious, striped tail. "Think I'd look good in one?"

"Oh, yeah, you got a bit o' sultriness goin' on. An' your pelt's already black an' white," Petra pointed out. That's what maids wore, wasn't it? "Annika would look good in one, too." An approving glance. "She's definitely got the 'look'."

"Look?" the snow rabbit asked, cocking a brow.

"Dunno 'bout me an' Advent, though."

"I look good in anything. And even better out of it," the jaguar assured, confidently, swishing her spotted, black-tipped tail.

"What look?" Annika pressed.

"An attractive look," Petra said, leaving it at that.

"I didn't know you were bisexual," the ambassador remarked, ears twiddling. "Or am I making an assumption?"

"Mm." A shrug. "It's not an even fifty-fifty, but I have an 'appreciation' for both sides."

"Rats aren't known to be picky," Advent injected, bitingly.

"Felines are, though. Maybe that's why they make so many enemies," Petra shot back immediately.

"I have plenty of friends."

"Then why are you on this station? On the edge o' nowhere?"

"I like a challenge," the jaguar replied, slowly. "What are you here for?"

"Cause I wanna be."

"So, we were talking about how I'm attractive?" Seldovia interrupted, trying to defuse the tension a bit. And, also, she liked being flattered.

"You're a princess. The privileged always come from good breeding," Advent insisted.

The skunk blinked. Was that a compliment or an insult? It was hard to tell. "I'm not exactly 'privileged' anymore. My family's mostly dead ... "

"Well, then they weren't very good rulers, were they? A feline monarchy never would've been overthrown."

"You have an answer for everything, don't you?"

"Yes."

The skunk frowned.

"How's that mouse o' yours workin' out?" Petra needled, suddenly.

"What's it to you?" Advent demanded with a squint.

"Just curious. You're such an odd couple. I'm wonderin' what's keepin' you together."

"We're madly in love."

"Madly in something," the rat muttered.

"What was that?" Advent asked, sharply, advancing toward the sitting rat.

Petra tensed.

"Afraid?"

"Not for myself." Her whiskers twitched. "I just don't want ya to get hurt. The infirmary's not up an' workin' yet."

Advent laughed, sharply. "As if ... "

Petra stood up in a flash, fur bristling. The rat was more than capable of defending herself.

"Hey, uh ... anyone for dessert?" Seldovia asked, meekly, fishing through the ration packs. "Look! I got cookies!"

"If you think you're so tough, put it to the test," Advent dared Petra.

"I dealt with worse when I was in the Syndicate."

"Really? I didn't know being a whore was so dangerous."

Petra swung a fisted paw at the spotted cat.

She twisted aside, slashing at the rat with her claws.

The rodent ducked, squeaking angrily and opening her muzzle to say ...

" ... break it up. Now!"

Petra spun and sucked air, standing to attention.

Advent blinked, ears lowering against her head. "Commander."

"Would you care to explain what's going on here?" Graham asked, looking slightly perturbed. His tall ears were waggling atop his head, and he was impatiently tapping one of his big, bare foot-paws on the floor.

"Just havin' a l'il catfight, sir," Petra said, glaring at Advent.

"Well, resolve it."

"Is that an order?" Advent asked, reluctantly.

Graham squinted.

"Right ... "

"Perhaps we should all discuss our feelings," Annika offered, primly, "and get to the bottom of the conflict. Conversation is much more productive than combat."

"A good idea," Graham agreed.

"How civilized," Advent mocked, glancing at Annika. "You're sharing his bed. You can stop acting like a saint."

Graham stepped forward, defensively.

Annika put her paw out to stop him, handling it herself. Telling Advent, "You're not half as stubborn as you'd like to think."

"Oh? Is that your professional opinion, snow bunny?"

"Rabbit," Annika corrected. In snow rabbit culture, 'bunny' carried intimate, sexual connotations, and was mostly used between lovers. It was a breach of etiquette, otherwise.

Advent didn't particularly care, however. "Bunny, bunny, bunny," she prattled.

"That's enough!" Graham said. "I suggest, Ensign Advent, you take a walk. Clear your head."

"I'm the only predator on this station. I know bias when I see it."

From the floor, Seldovia raised a paw, reminding, "Skunks aren't technically prey."

Advent hissed at her.

"You're an equal member of this crew," Graham assured, trying to assuage the feline, "but antagonistic behavior is detrimental to our progress."

"Logical, as always," the jaguar muttered. "I'll take a break. But I shan't walk. I prefer to prowl." She stormed off, into the nearest lift. And it whisked her away somewhere.

"What a piece o' work," Petra eventually said.

"What I said for her goes for you, as well," Graham told the rat. "Let's all try to be tolerant of each other. That would be the diplomatic thing to do, wouldn't it?"

Annika nodded. "Of course. But diplomacy is never easy."

"I know." The commander reached out and brushed his paw against hers.

Petra rolled her eyes. Gag!

Seldovia smiled, wistfully. So romantic.

"Imagine if any of us were the only prey member of an all-predator crew. We might feel as Advent does."

"I have been. An' I never picked fights like her," Petra insisted.

"Well ... " Graham took a deep breath. "Regardless, shall we get back to work? Did you contact your freighter friends yet?"

"The Reverie? Yeah. They'll stop by day after tomorrow. They want a complete list of our needs."

"Well, remind everyone that, during this initial clean-through, they should be making notes. We'll hold a staff meeting before the Reverie arrives to narrow it down. We can't get too greedy."

"Why not?" Petra asked, seriously.

"Because we're officers of the High Command." Graham let that linger and then took Annika's paw. "Care for some dessert?" "I didn't finish my meal yet," the ambassador said, flirtatiously. "But I suppose you'll give me something quite filling?" "You could say that." The snow rabbit mewed and pulled her down the corridor.

Petra blew out a breath, watching them turn the corner. "We just cleaned all those rooms, you know." A pause. "One of our peers is all fucked up, and the others are just plain gonna fuck." She looked to Seldovia. "What, now?"

"Um ... cookie?" the skunk suggested awkwardly, holding out a ration pack.

Petra shrugged and took it. "As long as it's not snickerdoodle ... "

It was after-hours aboard the Arctic.

Uniforms had been haphazardly discarded on the carpeted floor, their golden rank insignia gleaming in the low light. A bra had been left on the couch, not too far from three pairs of underwear. A lighter one, smooth and silky, and two heavier, cotton pairs. The trail of clothing led to the bathroom, where some towels lay in the doorway, inadvertently keeping the sensor stuck on 'open.' Inside, running water, coming from a hot, humming shower, billowing of steam.

Suddenly, a waterlogged bobtail appeared, flicking briefly against one of the glass walls of the shower stall. Then disappearing. Then flicking against the glass again, followed by the full rump. Once pressed against the glass, it slid down, lazily, only to inch back up.

Two pink paw-pads, meanwhile, hit the glass beside it, fingers spreading. Then curling between that snowy rump and the slick, foggy glass.

The owner of the rump arched, their entire backside becoming visible against the shower's transparent wall, now. Shoulders, too. " ... o-oh!" The cry was sharp. And male.

Inside the shower, a blue-grey mousey muzzle, whiskers glistening with water, was gently bobbing on a stiff, glistening rabbit cock. Ross, of course. And it was Elim's cock. Being very careful with his prominent buckteeth, the human-turned-mouse opened widely, twisting to the right. Allowing his lips to slide on down before they slowly suckled their way back up, tongue resting against the underside of the shaft. He reversed the technique after a minute. Suckling down. Gliding up. Then abandoned it all to dance his tongue on the rabbit's sensitive head.

Elim shuddered. This was driving him wild. Ross was getting good at this. Very, very good. He cupped the backs of his lover's ears, rubbing them firmly. He knew how erogenous they were.

The mouse felt a surge of dizzy pleasure, making him even more erect than he already was. Indeed, his mouse-hood, smaller than Elim's cock, was standing to attention down between his legs. He hadn't even touched it! He was just so aroused. The snow rabbit could see it. It turned him on, and he rubbed those big, dishy ears more. Yes, more, pulling the mouse's head flush to his loins. Forcing him to deep-throat. Elim hung his head, eyes rolling back. "Ah ... t-that's it. Yes. Yes ... " His essence jumped, pre streaming out. A preamble to something far greater. He was so close. "Ah!"

If Aria hadn't been there to stop them, he would've ...

But she was.

And he didn't.

Leaning against the opposite wall, the captain was close enough to touch. A paw between her discreetly-spread legs, rubbing furiously at her buzzing, un-hooded clitoris as she watched her mate give muzzle to her chief of security. She was playing with her hardened nipples with the other paw, but stopped long enough to grab at Ross's tail. She gave it a tug. Then another. "Mm ... m-mousey ... "

Ross obediently pulled up, twisting his head aside. Elim's essence bobbled stiffly, giving faint, little pulses. The mouse looked at it. Up close. Oh, god. He sucked air, almost forgetting to breathe. Panting hard and licking his lips, he dipped his chin as the hot shower water relentlessly rained down on him. He'd almost forgotten about it. Everything had faded away. He turned around, shielding his face with a paw, looking up at his love. "I'm sorry ... "

"I'm not," gurgled Elim, fighting the urge to touch himself.

"For what?" Aria asked. She wasn't fighting her own urge. She hadn't let up on that clit.

"I got a little carried away, didn't I?" Ross asked.

"Not at all, darling. There's no getting carried away when you're making love," Aria assured, scratching his chin. He lifted it, cutely. "You enjoyed it?"

A hazy, happy nod. "Mm-hmm ... "

Aria smiled back before looking across to Elim. "I believe you should return his favor."

"And what of your favors?" Elim teased. "How much longer will they be withheld?" Messing around with Ross was all well and good. But she, in his mind, was the greater prize. He knew the mouse would agree. As much as the two males adored each other, they were even more hopelessly in love with her. Aria, their captain and lover, the lynchpin of this relationship.

"I'll need you both very much erect for what I have in mind," she teased.

"But he's already erect," Elim pointed out, logically.

"Couldn't he be a tiny bit stiffer? He's my mate. That's part of the deal." Aria slanted her hips, sultrily, squeezing both her breasts. "Please?"

"Yes, p-please?" Ross asked, excitedly, standing up in anticipation.

Well ... when they asked like that ...

... the male snow rabbit went down on the mouse in a heartbeat. Kissing, nuzzling. Mouthing. And, yes, sucking. He had the shy thing wriggling on his toes in no time. His squeaks cutting through the foggy shower like high-pitched cries. Of course, being so hard already, Elim kept it brief. He didn't want to accidentally set the mouse off. He retreated and made a show of nibbling the mouse's wet, furry sac, before insisting to Aria, "I think he's ready."

"Let me see ... " She motioned for her mate.

He turned toward her.

She reached down and grasped his five-inch penis. It was a perfect fit in her paw. A squeeze. A few strokes. She nodded, slowly, lost in lust.

Ross could only squeak.

"Does it meet your approval?" an amused Elim asked.

"Mm-hmm." Her paw fell away.

And Ross sighed hotly, water spraying away from his wet muzzle.

"Now, your favors, I believe, are due to be offered," the male snow rabbit insisted, getting up off his knees. He stood with his two partners.

"So impatient ... " Aria turned around, wiggling her plush, bobtailed rump. She was such a good tease.

"I'm throbbing for you," he vowed, passionately. Grabbing that ass. Pressing his body to hers and whispering against her nape, "You can't tell me you aren't wet for me."

"We're all wet," she whispered back, grinding herself against him.

Elim sighed, desperately. "Aria ... "

Ross wriggled between their bodies, cutely interjecting, "I think, since I'm technically her mate, I should maybe get to be favored by her favors first."

"I have the stronger libido," the rabbit insisted. "It's literally paining me to wait ... "

"I've had blood gorging my mouse-hood and my ears while panting in hot, dehydrating water," Ross countered. "I'm going to pass out if I don't deal with it soon!"

"Boys, haven't you heard of sharing?" Aria teased, suggestively. She extricated herself from the horny males. Pushing open the door to the shower. Not bothering to turn it off. Water was going everywhere, like a fine mist, as she stepped out, ordering, "Dry off before you get into bed. I'll be waiting."

Ross and Elim looked at each other. And then tried not to slip as they hurried after her.

Not five minutes later, they were in bed, lit by the barest of lights. Outside the windows, stars streamed by like swords. It was beautifully surreal. To think they were hurtling through space. While, inside, they hurled themselves at each other, pelts still slightly damp from the shower, the sheets strewn, pillows on the floor. It was a mess. But they were beyond caring.

Bodies were willingly wrapped around each other in hot, naked, intimate ways, her legs loosely opening around Ross, and Ross's arms hugging at Elim, and Elim's hips angling next to the mouse's. They wriggled for a bit, side by side, like puzzle pieces trying to fit together, the two males carefully orchestrating their movements. Until their cocks aligned and touched. They both groaned from the electricity of it, and then they attempted to have their cake and eat it, too. She'd wanted them to share? Well, they would. They pushed forward at the same time, watching each other's movements. Their heads spearing her apart. The shafts following. Inch by inch, until both of them were wedged inside her pussy at the same time.

It was a new, exciting experience for all of them. A little awkward at first, truth be told. But they gradually got the hang of it. Ross realized they couldn't thrust at the same time. It kept forcing one of them to flop out. It worked better if they alternated. Him first, then Elim. Then him. One thrusting. One staying buried. They took turns. Their thrusts were shallow but deeply pleasurable. The psychological arousal would've been enough to finish them at this point, but their bodies began to feel like raw nerves.

Aria mewed, stretched as wide as she'd ever been, filled so full, her clitoris aflame as she thought about them doing this. As she watched them, dreamily. Her two males servicing her. At the same time. Oh, her paws were all over her own body, and then their paws, too. And hers on them. It was frenetic. Like animals, they grabbed, rocked, and cried out, forming a huge sexual fur-pile, with Ross's ropy tail sticking out of it.

Elim came first, unsurprisingly.

But Ross's normally stout stamina faltered as the rabbit's thick, hot seed pulsed out, deeply into his mate's womb before washing back down over both their cocks, over his own, tingling glans. He lost it. Completely lost it, his penis throbbing and jerking against Elim's, his own white seed mixing with the rabbit's, creating an indistinguishable mixture that began streaming out of the rabbit's raw, velvety vagina. It was so incredibly hot.

Aria was the last to topple, and she cried out, wildly, clenching around them in wet, milking spasms, having multiple, rippling orgasms. Her body shook. Her head rolled aside. Gasping, she clutched at them. Both of them. Breasts swelling with each baited, blissful breath. Her clitoris was too sensitive to touch, now. Her legs wide open, toes curling. Oh! Oh ...

" ... y-yes," Elim muttered, sounding so deeply satisfied he could just flop down and never get up.

"My boys," Aria finally breathed, a paw going behind each of their heads as they dizzily leaned over her. "I love you ... "

"I love you, too," Ross replied, hazily. "So much ... " Oh, his snow angel. His Arctic queen. His mate. His everything. "And you, Elim," he added, vulnerably. "I love you."

"I love you, too, mousey," Elim promised warmly, pulling his hips back, kissing his male lover on the cheek, letting the mouse slip into a more traditional missionary position atop his mate. The male snow rabbit rested beside the female, instead, nuzzling at her neck and whispering his love for her. Over and over. And over. And she whispered it back. Elim had fucked several female crew-furs since Arctic had launched. But this felt the best. It was special. It always had been. It always would be.

Aria smiled and mewed softly, feeling Ross eventually pull out of her, too. He got on the other side of her, putting the captain in a snuggle sandwich of sorts. All of them rubbing, bumping, and nuzzling sweetly and without shame. Gentle, little touches, and incoherent whispers that were intuited more than clearly heard. And as they drifted off into slumber, Aria couldn't help but think that she had the best crew in the fleet. For this had truly been a team effort.