FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The docking arm extended.

"Reversing polarity of the mag-lock," the pilot said. Mirabelle, a lieutenant. Her white-furred, black-clawed fingers flew over the controls with practiced ease, bobtail sticking through the tail-gap in her chair. She was one of the best young pilots in the fleet. Hence why Aria had picked her to join the crew. "Releasing the pod."

"Should I be wearing a seatbelt?" Ross asked, whiskers twitching.

"The inertial dampeners should keep our ride fairly smooth," Mirabelle assured. "And my paws will do the rest."

"She does have good paws," insisted Elim, casually.

Aria gave her tactical officer (and sometimes lover) a teasing look.

"Yours are good, too. They're just good at different things ... "

The shuttle-pod, freed from the arm, sank through the open floor of the bay in the belly of the ship. Stars were everywhere. Sequins on black velvet. Spinning around, the pod then faced the planet's surface, igniting thrusters and surging forward into the upper atmosphere.

Ross, sitting beside Aria, looked over everyone and out the front window. "Seems like a warm place. I don't see much snow."

"It's not home, that's for sure," Elim agreed.

Ross looked over to Assumpta, the snow leopard. She'd been quiet since boarding. "Your mate's not coming?"

"Oliver?" Arctic's chief engineer. "No need to. He wants to stay with his engines. I'm going on a supply run for him."

"I think it's unacceptable that we're already low on things," Kaplan, the young comm officer, said. He was always finding things unacceptable. "Also, if Arctic is a state of the art ship, why doesn't it have a larger shuttle-bay in the rear? Why is it still in the bowels of the ship?"

"The crew compliment isn't large enough to warrant an aft bay," Assumpta said. Oliver had helped design this class of starship. "Arctic is not a heavy cruiser. It's a loper." That's what snow rabbits called it, anyway. A fast, sleek ship, meant for patrol, reconnaissance, and dog-fighting, rather than transport, exploration, or strategic defense.

Kaplan just crossed his arms. He hated being put in his place. Maybe it was because he was the youngest rabbit on the ship. He didn't want to be patted on the head. I'm as mature as the rest of them! Sometimes.

"We're low on things, ensign," Aria patiently explained to her most junior officer, "because Redwing required more supplies than we thought. And because we were launched somewhat ahead of schedule." So many ships were destroyed in the war. As soon as Arctic was able to warp, she'd been commissioned.

Ross looked to Assumpta, again.

She quirked a brow.

He looked away. She and him were the only non-snow rabbits aboard the ship, but he hadn't talked to her much. Maybe it was because of 'cat/mouse' tension? But she didn't seem like a normal predator. She was quite gregarious and was mated to prey.

Aria, putting a paw on Ross's arm, announced to the rest, "Once you've fulfilled your duties, you're free to explore. Just try to be polite and obliging. The High Command doesn't have the best reputation on the border worlds. The locals feel they're being ignored. We need to let them know they're not."

There were assorted nods and 'yes, captains.'

Just then, the pod burst through the cloud layer, revealing more of the sun-dappled landscape. And water. Very blue water, running through lush, green stretches of land.

Aria got up from her seat and hunched over behind Mirabelle's seat. She pointed. "There's the city. You have the coordinates for the landing pad?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then set us down," the Captain said, ice-blue eyes shimmering with excitement. It may not have been home. But it was the first world they'd visited since the start of their mission. And it was full of snow rabbits like them. It was a little bit exciting.

Kaplan, with Aria hunched over, eyed her tail.

Ross and Elim gave the young buck immediate glares.

He made a face and rolled his eyes. I never get a piece of the action. When is it going to be my turn? He looked out the front window at the rapidly approaching city. Maybe my luck will change with a new venue? You never know ...

Peregrine glanced over the selection of foods, nose sniffing excitedly. "Are those buttered cheese biscuits?"

"Fresh from the food processor," Seldovia joked, standing beside him. Plate in paw. The ex-princess glanced over the selection. "Not exactly a royal feast." She remembered those big galas her parents used to host. Before the coup and the executions. The food had been amazing. Better than sex, sometimes. Lemon poultry. Ripe peaches. Those glazed pastries with cream inside? Oh, god ...

"Might as well be a feast. This is more food in one place than I've seen in months." The mouse put two cheese biscuits on his plate as he moved down the line. "That's the one thing I miss about living on a planet. Fresh food. Real food. Like, taken from the soil and not from re-sequenced matter, you know?" Or however it worked. He wasn't an engineer.

"I think the difference is exaggerated."

Peregrine looked over to the hare. Sheila, was it? "How so?"

"Oh, I'm sure for certain things, you can tell. Like vine-ripened strawberries or whatever? But a bowl of granola, cereal, or pasta noodles, or a banana ... which has no taste anyway; stuff like that? I bet if you were blindfolded, it would be hard to pick them apart. The difference in mostly in the head. Psychological bias."

"I suppose there is a bias involved," he admitted. "We all have subconscious expectations. I'm sure there's been dozens of studies done on the subject. Perhaps we should look them up and see whose right?"

Advent interrupted with an impatient, "How 'bout you keep moving through the line? Some of us are hungry."

"Advent," Graham chided, gently.

The jaguar ignored him. Looking, instead, to Herkimer, who was standing right behind her. "You better eat up, mousey. You're gonna need the energy later."

Talkeetna overheard. She blinked but said nothing. She'd spent the morning with Herkimer. He'd never mentioned having a mate. Or was the jaguar merely a partner? Regardless, the red squirrel now understood the root of his 'feline troubles.' And once a feline had their claws in you, they were very hard to extract. She shuddered at the memory of her own violent encounter. Maybe it wasn't the same as what Herkimer was going through. I shouldn't judge Advent without knowing her. That's unfair of me. But I still remember how that lion smelled and felt and sounded as he took me against my will. The barbs left me sore for weeks ...

"Are you alright?" Annika asked Talkeetna, tilting her head behind the squirrel.

"Yeah. Sorry. Just lost in thought ... " She squirrel reached for the big bowl of mixed steamed vegetables. Broccoli and carrots. Scooped some onto her plate and moved on. "I don't suppose you have any nuts?" Whatever happened to acorn casserole?

"Pistachios," Graham said, pointing.

"Thanks." She reached into the bowl. They were still in the shells. "Our food processor can't do nuts."

"Can't do jack, either," Peregrine said.

"Cheesy mouse humor. That wasn't funny, Perry," Talkeetna told him with a smirk. And then, to Graham, "But, yeah, Reverie isn't an advanced vessel. She's a good one. But not state of the art. Our processors can only replicate rudimentary stuff. A lot of plain meals ... "

"These food processors come from the High Command. Newest issue," the snow rabbit explained.

"I'm jealous ... "

Seward, already in his seat, turned his head to add, "I couldn't find any food processors or slots anywhere on the station, which is why we installed our own. The original inhabitants must've shipped in real food from somewhere."

"Or maybe they were carnivores," Sheila suggested, darkly. "Our best guess is they were avian. So, maybe they were hawks. Owls. Maybe they didn't need food processors cause they ate live prey ... maybe even sentient prey."

Herkimer shuddered.

"That's quite enough of that, thank you," Graham told the hare.

The silvery security officer clenched her jaw.

"Is there a nearby planet?" Talkeetna wondered

"A few hours away at impulse," Seward said. "The station may have been in orbit at one time."

"But it's not anymore. Any idea what happened? Did it get loose and drift somehow? Catastrophic accident?"

"If that were the case, it wouldn't be here," Advent insisted.

"Or maybe someone tried to tractor it away for themselves and it was a bigger job than they realized ... "

"This place has too many unsolved mysteries," Sheila said. Most of which felt like security threats to her. "You can drive yourself crazy trying to figure them out."

"Let's just change the subject again," Herkimer suggested, whiskers twitching nervously.

"Herky's nerves fray easily," Advent said.

The mouse made a face. Was that a putdown? She was always making comments like that ... even if they were true.

Just then, the doors whooshed open and in flapped Barrow. "Party can start, furs! I'm here! I got carried away setting up my new diagnostic equipment. The infirmary's shaping up quite nicely. Without all the lights, though, it feels like a mad scientist's lab ... "

Peregrine did a double-take. As did Talkeetna. The Reverie officers only knew bats as members of the Syndicate.

Barrow, his telepathic feelers constantly extended, immediately sensed their hostility. He opened his periwinkle wing-arms and said, "Whoa. Hey. I'm a good guy. Promise."

"It's true," Graham said. "He's harmless."

"Except in bed," Barrow added. "There, I'm lethal."

Sheila snerked.

The bat grinned at his partner's response. He liked making her laugh. Even if it was unintentional.

The Reverie officers relaxed, though only slightly. Peregrine just said, "I guess things are different in the Federation and High Command ... "

"We have rogues where we come from, too, of course. But we're more in the vain of 'separatists' or something," Barrow insisted. "The wasps would've have been defeated without our help. True story. We're certainly not a furry mafia. Some bats even segue into 'normal' furry society."

"You'll never find that here ... "

Barrow could sense the mouse's continued mistrust. It wasn't going to go away, so he let the matter drop. You can't win over everyone.

After a few more minutes, they'd all seated themselves at the long conference table. The click-clacks of silverware could be heard, along with the occasional glass being lifted and lowered. They talked and ate. Eventually, it was time for dessert. Cookies. Chocolate with white chip, regular chocolate chip, chocolate-toffee, macadamia nut. Takeetna took several of the latter.

While they nibbled on them, Graham pulled out some computer pads. "I've had all my officers make a list of various supplies they think they might need that we don't already have in some acceptable capacity."

"And other long very sentences," Barrow commented to Sheila.

Peregrine reached for a few of those pads, tapping some buttons, scrolling through the items. He handed one to Talkeetna. "Catalytic converters, bio-mimetic gel, phase coils ... these are long lists."

"It's a big station," Graham said, apologetically. "It would've taken several cargo ships full of gear to fully stock this place. And, even then, things break unexpectedly as you try to get them up and running. High Command equipment isn't naturally compatible with the station's. We're having to jury-rig here and there. We're lucky to have the power we do."

"It would be easier if I had a full engineering team. Or any engineering team at all. Unfortunately, there's just me," Seward lamented.

"I could have our engineer give you a paw, sometime, if you wish," Peregrine offered. "I'm sure he's not as well-trained as you, but he's good cobbling odd parts together. Furs in the UT are good at improvisation."

"I would appreciate it." The snow rabbit nodded.

Talkeetna, blowing out a breath, said, "We can maybe get you a third of the things on these lists. This isn't civilized space. Not everyone out here is on the same side. Cooperation is hard to come by, and everyone's competing for the same resources."

"Anything you can do would be enough. I understand the limits. Rebuilding this station was always going to be a challenge. It will simply make it more satisfying when it pays off."

Petra, who'd been strangely quiet for most of the meal, remarked, "Challenges sometimes leave scars."

A few furs looked her way.

She poked at her food. "Just gotta be prepared for that."

"I hate to agree with her, but she's right," Advent said, spotted tail lazily swishing about. "There's no room for optimism here. You need to take a harder line."

"You mean, we need to behave like predators?" Annika posed. "How is that working for the Federation?" Advent was 'allegedly' a Federation representative. They were only recently emerging from a predator/prey Civil War, not to mention defeats to the High Command and wasps.

"The Federation didn't end up in a weakened state because of predatory rule. The predators deserved to be in charge. There were just too many fingers in the pie." Or however that phrase went. "That's what happens when you have hundreds of species trying to coexist, all with different instincts and needs. It's a noble ideal, but it's a worthless reality."

Sheila bristled. As a former Federation officer, she'd been a staunch defender of that ideal. And even now, in its decline, she felt a twinge every time it was besmirched. But Advent wasn't entirely wrong. The Federation existed, still. But it was a mess. A return to former glory wasn't looking likely unless massive reforms were undertaken.

"It's easy when you're the High Command, and it's ninety percent snow rabbits and ten percent non-rabbit immigrants," Advent continued.

"You make it sound like you're actually a Federation citizen," Sheila finally said, bitingly. She just couldn't resist taking a jab at the cat. "Almost like you aren't native to the UT." Sheila remembered the thorn Advent had been in Pyro's side.

The jaguar scowled. "I didn't realize you had to be born somewhere to belong there. But I forgot you were a 'Feddie'. They dumped you, right? Literally? Left you in a shuttle-pod to die? Messy breakup."

Herkimer tugged at the jaguar's arm lightly. "Calm down ... "

"Don't' tell me what to do." Advent carelessly swung her large paw, claws extended, smacking the mouse in the middle of the chest. Maybe it wasn't a violent hit. But it wasn't soft, either. And not having expected this, he coughed and choked, spewing out cookie crumbs for a few seconds.

Talkeetna straightened with alarm.

Sheila squinted, angrily.

Annika, who was sitting on the other side of Herkimer, whispered something into his ear. The mouse, having gotten his breath back, nodded in an 'I'm okay' gesture.

Advent fumed. She hated being ganged up on. And, now, they were all feeling sorry for Herkimer. He should know better than to touch her when she was angry. She'd warned him about that before. I guess it's okay to hate on me because I'm the only predator on the station! Fucking hypocrites.

Graham, wearing a very serious expression even by snow rabbit standards, said, "We're all on duty, and we're entertaining guests. I suggest we restrain ourselves." He was mostly speaking to Advent, but everyone needed to hear it. Personalities were beginning to clash. "That's an order." He let out a breath and looked to Peregrine, his expression softening, "I'm very sorry, Captain."

"If you think this is bad, you should see what happens on Reverie, sometimes ... "

"Yeah, we had to hide in a nebula once while carrying perishable medical supplies," Talkeetna added, helpfully, trying to ease the tension in the room. "Sensors were on the fritz. Environmental controls, too. Dark, hot ship with colored gas beginning to seep in through micro hull breaches. Tempers flaring. Fun times."

"Sorry I missed that," Petra said, sarcastically.

"You would've handled it just fine. I've seen how you scrap when cornered," Peregrine told her.

The rat hid a smile behind a cookie.

Herkimer got up, timidly, muttering something about needing to go to the bathroom.

Sheila, watching him go, elbowed Barrow in the side.

"Ow! What?" he chittered.

The hare nodded her head, tall, silver ears pointing after the mouse. 'Follow him,' she mouthed.

"I'm not going into the bathroom with him," Barrow whispered back, making a face. "That's some weird female thing." Which made no sense, by the way. "Males don't do that."

She gave him a look.

The bat sighed. Great! She was gonna deny him sex tonight if he didn't go check on the mouse. That made the decision easier. He got up and went after him.

Peregrine, looking over the pads again, said, "We'll do our best with all this. You're giving us a place to dock and store some of our long-term goods. A base, as it were. That's invaluable to us. The least we can do is help you out ... "

"Don't extend yourselves too hard for our sake. You have your own interests to look out for," Graham reiterated. He was almost compulsively polite. Had he always been that way? "I understand that."

The mix-furred mouse nodded, looking over to Petra. She seemed to hint that getting romantically involved with her would have unintended consequences. But Graham was right. You had to look after your own interests first. You had to be a little bit selfish to survive. And to be happy. Sometimes, that involved risk and sacrifice ...

The bathroom door swished open.

"Herkimer?"

A sniffle. The mouse was at the sink. He'd been splashing cold water in his face, probably to hide the fact that he'd been crying.

The bat stepped inside and the doors closed. "You alright?"

"You ... you didn't have to check up on me," the mouse insisted.

He almost admitted that Sheila made him do it, but before he could ...

" ... that's sweet of you," the mouse told him.

Barrow flushed. "Well. I guess it is, isn't it?"

"I'm just being stupid."

"What makes you say that?"

"Crying. Over nothing."

"Your 'mate'," Barrow said, stressing the word with sarcasm, hugging himself with his wing-arms, "hit you. She made you choke on your food."

"I shouldn't have touched her when she was bristling like that. I know better."

"That's no excuse," the bat insisted.

The mouse closed his eyes, breathing through his pink, sniffy nose. Whiskers giving a few twitches. "She's always so angry."

Barrow said nothing. But he unfolded his wings, leaning against the wall.

"Everything makes her mad or offends her. I get upset sometimes, yeah. But I don't explode or rampage."

"We all handle anger differently," Barrow admitted, "but she crosses the line. I've seen enough to know that. She can't handle her emotions very well. It's almost like she doesn't understand the consequences of them."

"If she heard you say that, she'd claim you were conspiring against her. Or slandering her name. She dismisses any criticism. Even if it's constructive." Herkimer, eyes open again, stood up straight and reached for a towel. He dried his face and grey-furred paws. "I don't think she's bad. I don't think anyone's truly bad. There's good in every-fur ... "

Barrow gave a weak smile. The mouse was darling. But, damn, he was naïve. "Do you really believe that?"

"What's the alternative?" Herkimer asked, helplessly. "To be suspicious of everyone? To approach every fur I meet as if they're capable of great evil? Maybe if we all trusted each other more, those wars wouldn't have happened."

"There's no black and white. Not everyone fits into a defined spectrum. I should know. I'm a rogue element, myself. Harmony on a wide scale is next to impossible. It's easier accomplished in small groups."

"Like between mates," the mouse breathed, sadly.

"Yes ... "

His eyes watered. "I don't feel harmony with her. I want to. I try to. I think I love her, but ... it's mostly cause ... " He faltered out of embarrassment.

"Because she has sex with you, and that makes you feel good? And your brain is associating the pleasure with her?"

"Well, how can it not? It comes from her ... "

"So does the pain," the bat pointed out. "Her verbal digs. Her physical abuse. She gets off on being in control, but she resents when that control is challenged or threatened in any way."

"But I don't threaten it ... "

"No, but those of us around you do. And she's afraid we'll end up 'controlling' you more than she's able to. It's like you're her prized possession. You're a 'collectible' mate for play and display. Not an equal dance partner."

"I'm ... but I'm a free fur. I should be the only one controlling me ... " He just didn't understand. "Are all felines like this?"

"No. I've met plenty of nice ones." Assumpta, that snow leopard from Luminous, for instance. "There's nothing wrong with a relationship not working out. It's not a sin to break up with someone. That's perfectly normal. Most furs go through many partners before they find someone to seriously mate with."

"I guess I just rushed into it ... "

"You were inexperienced, and you got carried away," the bat acknowledged. "You gotta break up with her. She'll be mad at first, yes. But it'll be better for you both in the long run. She needs someone who can deliver her volleys with equal force. And you're not able to."

Herkimer nodded.

The periwinkle-furred bat opened his wing-arms. "Come 'ere ... "

The mouse leaned against the bat's chest and hugged him tight, burying his nose in his neck fur.

Barrow nuzzled at the mouse's head and then realized, 'We've been in here a long time. Hmm. I hope they don't think we're pawing together or something ... not that there's anything wrong with that!' He let go of the mouse and cleared his throat, though. "We should get back to the meeting."

"Yeah ... thanks, Barrow."

"Don't' mention it." The bat blew out a breath.

"What's wrong?"

"Which one of us should leave first?"

"Does it matter?" the mouse asked, blinking innocently.

"It depends on what they think has been going on in here ... "

The mouse smiled. "You're being silly. Anyway, you can read most of their minds. You should know what they're thinking."

"Right. I do." When did I become so image-conscious? Since I met Sheila? He scanned the adjacent room with his mind. "Well, Seldovia's wondering about it."

"About ... "

"You, me ... alone."

"Oh ... " The mouse's ears went rosy-pink. "Really?"

"But, then, she doesn't have anyone to fuck yet, so she's full of sexual fantasies. Peregrine is thinking about Petra. Petra's thinking about Peregrine." A chuckle. "Someone's thinking about you. And it's not Advent."

"Who is it?" He could guess, of course. "Talkeetna?" he asked, hopefully.

"Maybe." He did some more scanning. "Advent's got some mental blocks up, but I don't need to read her mind to know she wants to maul me." He frowned. "Damn, I wish I could read Sheila's mind. So frustrating. I know she must be thinking about me ... " Or was that his ego speaking? She's in my thoughts a lot. It's only fair if I'm in hers, right? "If only she'd let me bite her ... "

"Barrow, I wanna go back to the table," the mouse said, trying to move past him. He was getting twitchy standing in one place so long.

"Alright, fine, you go first. No, wait!" The bat furled a wing around the mouse's shoulder, keeping him still. "You came in first. So, you leave last. Alright, I'll go ... " The bat slipped through the swooshing doors.

The mouse blinked, waited a few seconds, and followed him, shaking his head. Is there anyone on our crew that's normal?

When the bat and mouse got back to the table, Sheila was telling Peregrine about her time in the UT.

"I served aboard a freighter, myself. The Red Rocket."

"I'm not familiar with it."

"Big wolf cock?" Petra injected, sarcastically. "Would've been hard to miss."

"It was a pretty stupid name," Sheila admitted. "The ship was destroyed by the wasps. Most of the crew was ... well, you can imagine what happened to them. Only two of us survived. Captain Pyro and myself. As prisoners. Both of us managed to escape eventually. Him sooner than me."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Peregrine said, whiskers twitching.

"Life isn't perfect. I've learned to handle the punches," the hare said. "And I return them with kicks." There was no better kick-boxer than the hare, what with her strong legs and foot-paws and all.

"But it's tiring to be in a fighting stance all the time, isn't it?" the mouse captain wondered.

"Not if you're properly conditioned." She'd been abandoned by every group or fur that had professed to care about her. The Federation. Pyro. She had no idea where her family was. They certainly hadn't come looking for her after she'd been left for dead in that pod. A 'fighting stance' was all she knew, nowadays. It was her standard greeting. The only one who'd stuck by her lately was Barrow. She looked over at him.

He looked back, flashing his fangs in that cocky way.

It was still hard to take him seriously. He enjoyed needling authority, and she was all about maintaining order and authority. He was so irreverent. But he'd shown true signs of tenderness, lately. And not just in bed, either. She shook her head. Stop getting sappy, Sheila. It never ends well.

"When the wasps rolled through the UT, they ignored most of us. We weren't important enough to bother with. I wonder if that's sad or not," Peregrine said. "They picked on a few systems here and there, of course. Mostly as proving grounds before tackling the big governments. And they may very well have come back to conquer us completely if they'd been successful elsewhere. It's hard to say. I heard plenty of rumors of their practices. Even met a few refugees, but they seemed unwilling to talk about it. It's unfortunate you had to become involved ... "

"Yeah. Well. Like I said ... " Sheila glanced over at Barrow again. He'd just hooked his long, bendy thumb, which jutted past the end of his wing-arm, around a cookie. She reached for it. Broke half of it off and took it for herself.

The bat blinked.

She raised the cookie-half for show. And then took a big bite. Then looked to Talkeetna and asked, "What about you? You said you almost had your own ship?"

"I had dreams of it. But there can only be so many ships and so many captains. I settled for the next best thing." She smiled. "Less stress for me, I guess."

Peregrine laughed. "She's bailed me out on numerous occasions. She'll make a good captain someday." He just hoped it wasn't anytime soon. He relied on her counsel. And Reverie's second officer, the next in line, was a bit of a scatterbrain.

"What about the rest of your crew?" Sheila, again. "You have a security officer? I'd like to hear some stories of your tactical encounters."

"They're filtering around the station. Most are still aboard the ship. I have to admit," Peregrine said, looking to Graham, "that we don't find many legitimately friendly stops on our journey. We're used to watching our tails. So, the rest of the crew's been a little hesitant to accept your hospitality. I hope you're not offended."

"It takes a lot to offend me," the easygoing snow rabbit assured, glancing at a chronometer on the wall. "I don't mean to cut this short, but if everyone's ready, I think we'd best get back to work! It's much later than I realized ... "

As they all got up to leave, Petra pulled Seward aside. In a low voice, she said, "I need a holo-suite for tonight."

The snow rabbit blinked. "Oh?"

"For me and Captain Peregrine. Can that be arranged?"

"Of course." Seward knew from rumor, mainly in the form of whispered gossip from Seldovia, that the rat and mouse had some kind of history.

"Any particular one we should use?"

"Holo-suite One is already online. They're all just off the Promenade. Two should be ready sometime tomorrow." Three and four had some major damage. Those would take a few weeks, if not months. Again, he wished for a repair team. The holo-matrices were a bit strange. They were somehow independent from the station's normal power grid, but they worked. He'd tested one before lunch. The simulations smelled, sounded, and felt real. There was only one problem ...

The self-cleaning subroutines weren't working. Some damaged ODN wires. As soon as his holographic partner, an amazingly convincing female snow rabbit ... as soon as she'd vanished, his seed had fallen from her virtual womb to the silvery metal floor with an embarrassing splat. It should've been dissolved or absorbed. Luckily, there was a washcloth nearby.

"I'd appreciate if you kept this to yourself."

"I will, Lieutenant-Commander," he promised, not telling her it was currently 'wipe down after use.' How did one politely broach that? Besides, as long as her partner was real, as Peregrine certainly was, there shouldn't be too big a mess. Right? Still ...

Seward looked around for Takeetna. "Commander, you have my list?"

"Of course. Why?"

"I want you to highlight the holo-suite replacement parts. They're, uh, sort of a priority ... "

"I'm here to get some new data pads. Our ship has wired you compensation from the High Command." Kaplan had split from the rest of the away team. They'd all paired off. He'd tried hanging around with Mirabelle, but she and Assumpta hadn't seemed terribly interested in his company. Besides, they were boring.

"Data pads? You didn't pack enough before you launched?" the librarian asked. She was a mature doe. In her late-thirties, early-forties. Kaplan had never been good at guessing ages. She was on the supple side, too, probably from sitting in here all day. The library was just alongside the council building. A few important-looking snow rabbits strolled through every few minutes, but it was mostly a quiet place.

"We loaned some to Redwing Station. More than we'd allotted for."

"Redwing Station? Never heard of it." She tapped at a computer console. "Ah. I see it. Requisition form ... yes, everything checks out, mister ... ? Sorry, I didn't get your name?"

"Kaplan."

She nodded her head. "We don't get many officers in these parts, Kaplan. They tend to ignore us." Her voice was smooth, and there was a twinkle in her ice-blue eyes. She'd always had a weakness for rabbits in uniform. Uniforms were sexy. Was that a kink? Her eyes scanned his tunic. He was fairly young. She'd heard stories about how Academy students had been rushed into service at the end of the war. "You're an ensign?"

"Yes. For now," Kaplan added, defensively. "I'll be promoted soon enough!"

"Oh, I'm sure."

"Anyway, Arctic is on border patrol. You'll be seeing lots of us."

"How much?" she wondered, raising a snowy brow.

"Well ... quite a bit," the male replied, hesitantly.

She leaned closer to him, batting her eyes.

It slowly dawned on him, though. "As much as you want?" he added.

"Mm. That's what I was hoping to hear." She brushed her paws over her sizable breasts. Many snow rabbits were buxom, of course, but it was a wonder she didn't have back pain. "I think I have what you're looking for in the archival room." She glanced around the library's interior. Making sure no one was overhearing. "If you'll follow me?" she whispered.

The communications officer paused and gave brief thought to what Captain Aria might say about this. Assuming 'this' was what he thought it was going to be. (And he hoped like hell it was!) It's not like he would be violating any protocols. He was on duty, sure, but it's not like such activities were uncommon. And the captain had regular threesomes, so it's not like she was a saint ...

He followed the librarian back a ways, through a set of doors, and into the aforementioned archival room. Lots of pads, screens, even books. He hadn't seen so many books in one place in his life. The doors sealed behind him. It was even more quiet in hear. Almost like it was soundproof ...

"This room is kept extremely sterile by advanced bio-filters," the librarian explained. "Some of our colony's oldest writings are in here. Some from the time of the great migration." She gestured at glass cases along the walls. The 'great migration' referred to when their species had begun leaving the Home-world, nearly two hundred years ago, settling the other sectors that now made up High Command space. None of the other worlds had the population or infrastructure that the Home-world did, but they were still linked by government and lineage.

"Impressive. I, uh, don't want to contaminate anything," Kaplan said with concern. He sniffed the air. It was, indeed, incredibly clear and clean. Not a single speck of dust.

"The filters will kick into a higher gear to compensate. There will be no evidence of what we've done," she assured, logically. The same couldn't be said for doing it in the main room. The fur, sweat, and scent would permeate the air. Here, it would be swept away discreetly. Not to mention they wouldn't be seen. It was almost as if she'd done this before. How many officers had she shown the archives to?

The ensign stared at her breasts. I wonder if I can touch them?

"Well, don't just stand there like a cadet. We don't have much time," she chided, playfully. He was a bit clueless, wasn't he? Not a problem. He'd just be easier to direct. But she really did need to make it quick. Eventually, someone would require her services (the non-sexual kind) and come looking for her. "You know what to do next, don't you?"

"Me? Of course!"

"Prove it."

He nodded. Okay. Right. Well, she asked for it! And the Captain ordered him to be obliging. To make a good impression on the locals? Well, he was about to make an incredible impression ...

The librarian, who still hadn't volunteered her name, correctly guessed that Kaplan was the type of young buck who would drop his pants at the first hint of seduction. Of course, male snow rabbits weren't exactly hard to sleep with. The younger ones, in particular, had almost no self-control. She liked that. She had conditions, though. "Keep the uniform-shirt on. And the badge," she insisted. "Face me. Mm, yes, that's it ... good boy ... " She was backing up to a table, and eased her plush rump, which was now exposed, onto the edge. Her thighs parted. The fur looked so soft. And they were giving off such heat. And her vulva, like a pink flower, was so fleshy and pouty.

Kaplan began to pant. "W-what about your breasts ... "

"Not today."

He pouted. Dammit. Not fair!

"I think you'll find my pussy's a bit more fun to play with ... " She hooked her bare foot-paws around his rump, digging her heels in. Pulling him closer. He was naked from the waist down. Just like her.

He didn't doubt that for a second. He began to grind against her.

"That's right ... my, what a big cock ... "

The buck's pants were around his ankles. Boxer-briefs, too. His cock stood at complete attention. It simply wasn't possible for it to hold any more blood.

She moved her paws under his shirt, feeling his chest. "Now, put that High Command training to good use and take me to the stars."

He couldn't oblige fast enough, swooning forward, dipping his slender hips and huffing as he bumped against her, grinding. Those breasts jiggled under her own shirt. Damn, did they! If only they were loose! He mouthed at her shirt. Then her neck, and his nose scrunched with pleasure as he found his mark, spearing himself into her depths. His whiskers went numb at the tips. She was so hot and wet. His hips pounded against her. No finesse. No gentility. He just bred her wildly, white fur, both his and hers, shedding and flying around in loose strands. "Ah, ah-h ... "

"Oh, ensign," she moaned, paws groping his soft, furry rump. She pulled at him. Closer. Deeper. She licked the rank insignia on his collar. And then kissed his neck, nibbling up to his chin. "Ensign Kaplan ... faster ... "

"Mm, mm-h," he went, practically grunting, not slowing down for even a second. She sure liked it rough! He planted his paws on the edge of the table, digging his blunt claws into the wood-grain. He was practically rutting her.

Her muzzle opened, lips covering his own. She suckled.

He sucked back, turning it into a proper kiss. Which soon broke. He tried not to moan. Really, he did. But it was impossible when faced with such blinding pleasure, such lustful bliss. He was already ... oh, god, I'm gonna ...

Ten minutes later, the teenaged officer, clearing his throat, left the library with a heavy satchel full of data pads, looking quite dazed and almost tripping over his own foot-paws a few times. His knees were still weak with pleasure. His comm-badge was upside down on his tunic. Throat was dry, too.

Shielding his eyes from the unnaturally bright sun, he looked around for a bench or something. He'd already been sweating from the sex, but the heat was practically drenching his pelt. I need water. Badly. There has to be a replimat somewhere. Or a café. I also need a shower before returning to the shuttle-pod, else they'll all know what happened.

But at least I got laid and they probably didn't.

Looks like I came out on top for once!

I wonder if we'll be visiting this colony often ...

"I knew that fucking bat was messing with your mind!" Advent hissed, throwing a computer pad across the room. Luckily, it hit the cushioned couch. Otherwise, it would've shattered into pieces. "He's telepathic, Herky! He's feeding you lies."

"He's my best friend," the grey furred mouse insisted.

"Bats are dangerous. Everyone knows that."

"You're stereotyping."

"Which is exactly what everyone does to me! Just because I'm a feline, a predator ... that makes it okay for them? It's a double-standard." She moved in front of the oval-shaped windows, framed in front of the stars.

"You're always so paranoid. And so angry," the mouse said. "I don't like it!"

"In the UT, it's hunt or be hunted. You have no idea about my past."

"Because you've never told me ... "

"You'd just get scared," she insisted, moving away from the windows. Pacing back and forth.

He twitched, making a frustrated face. "There you go again. Those passive-aggressive putdowns."

"Herkimer, for fuck's sake, you're reading too much into it. Relationships have their ups and downs."

"I just ... I don't think this is going anywhere ... " He moved off, grabbing a backpack of supplies.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to stay in one of the guest quarters tonight until I can fix up my own."

"No, you're not!" She pounced, hissing, placing herself between him and door. "You're not leaving before we're done arguing!"

"I don't want to argue!" he pleaded. "If you do, and you want to win, well ... I forfeit. You win. There. Happy?" he asked, spreading his arms.

"You're not getting off that easily," she growled.

"Look, Advent, I ... this is hard for me. I've never broken up with anyone. I'm really trying ... "

"God, are you gonna cry, now? Again?" She huffed, craning her neck to the ceiling and licking her lips with her raspy cat-tongue. He really tried her patience. "Mousey, sit down."

"No. I don't want to. I'm leaving." He sniffled.

"Don't make me ask you again ... "

"Or what? You'll cut me to pieces with your claws?"

She breathed heavily through her nose. "I'm not that cruel."

"No, but you have a temper."

"I can name plenty of your character flaws," she shot back. "But I'm not gonna play that game."

"I think we're both tying our self-worth to being in this relationship," he said vulnerably. "But we really don't have anything in common. I mean, we're a cat and mouse. When has that ever worked?"

"I'm sure it has somewhere." "Somewhere," he echoed. "Not here. Not us ... "

"It's that red squirrel, isn't it? You kept looking at her ass. That big tail of hers."

"I was not," Herkimer insisted, ears blushing. Was I?

"I know you gave her a tour of the station."

"I told you I was," he said.

"You said you were 'entertaining guests.' Not that you were alone with a pretty squirrel down in the power core."

"What are you saying? Are you accusing me of breeding with her?"

"No, you're too nice to cheat," she knew. "But you're attracted to her! Don't deny it."

He sighed. He couldn't, really.

"You gonna hop in her bed as soon as you leave mine?" the jaguar asked, looking hurt. "That the kind of fur you wanna be?"

"Advent, stop it ... "

"Or are you going to stay and honor your commitment to me?"

"You're trying to send me on a guilt trip," he accused. "It's not gonna work this time. Do you really think we're still gonna be together in five, ten years? Twenty? Fifty? Be old and grey together? Our relationship isn't solid enough for that."

"Not all relationships have to be."

"But that's the kind I want." He looked into her eyes. "You'd be happier with someone else. I would, too. I still ... I'll still care for you. We can be friends," he suggested, diplomatically.

She gave a dark laugh. "Don't patronize me, Herky."

The mouse sighed. He was using up so much energy doing this! It wasn't worth it. He was tired. And fed up. "I'm going. Goodnight." He maneuvered past her.She grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Ouch!"

Her claws were digging in. "Don't be rash."

"I'm ... not!" he squeaked, wriggling sharply, scurrying at the door. It whooshed open, and he nimbly darted down the hall, tail trailing like a kite-string.

She pursued a little ways and stopped, panting. Damn that rodent and his being in good shape! She rubbed her forehead, turned, and slammed her fist against the bulkhead. Deep breaths. Deep ... breaths ... she swallowed. "Computer!" she hissed. "Is the holo-suite available?" If it was online, maybe she could activate a hunting program. She felt like drawing blood.

The computer chirruped and replied, "The holo-suite is currently engaged."

"Fuck," the jaguar muttered. Who the hell was in there? The Reverie crew? Freeloaders. Or maybe Seldovia? She didn't have a mate. Probably her. Whatever. It didn't matter. Herkimer wants to break up with me? Fine. But we're crewmates on a sparsely-populated station. He's gonna have to deal with me for the foreseeable future. You don't cross a feline and forget it.

It was sunset, and dappled light danced on the forest floor. The canopy moved in the breeze. A warm breeze. Birds sung their lazy, lilting tunes. It was a woodland paradise. None of it was real. But it didn't matter. It was so hard to tell. The simulation was based on the first planet Reverie had stopped at after Peregrine had brought Petra aboard. It was where they'd first realized they had feelings for each other.

"Baby," the mouse mumbled dreamily, paws in the rat's brown head-fur. He was sitting straight up, back against a chalky sycamore trunk. She was on her breasts and belly in front of him. Their clothes? Well ... they were somewhere. He couldn't see them. When they deactivated the program, they'd reappear. They didn't need them now. His fingers grazed her fleshy ears. He pushed her head down, down. And then she did this thing, this ... oh, god, this thing! With her tongue! "Oh-h," the mouse whined, paws moving to her shoulders. He lifted a knee. One of her paws slid across his thigh. "Oh ... "

Petra, tongue swirling around the broad part of his pink, sensitive glans, eased up. Gave a single suckle. And pulled back.

The mouse squeaked as his wet penis bobbled upright.

"It tastes just like I thought it would," she told him approvingly, bumping the underside of the shaft with her nose. She propped herself up with her elbows. And then raised up to her knees, tail side-winding in the dirt.

He reached out and cupped her cheek in his paw, strumming her whiskers with his thumb. "My words are getting stuck. I have all these powerful things in my heart, but I can't quite put them into poetry."

She nuzzled his paw with her face, closing her eyes. "I guess you'll just have to show me, instead."

"I was hoping you'd say that ... " The mix-furred mouse, grey and rusty brown, leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

The rat's nose flared for breath. She tilted her maw to the left.

He followed at first before moving the opposite way, a paw on one of her breasts, fondling it. The one above her heart.

She broke the kiss and whispered against his cheek, because she couldn't let him do this without letting him know, telling him the truth, "If you breed with me and the Syndicate's telepaths find out, they'll kill you. I used to work for them."

The mouse, still touching her breast, only nodded and murmured, "I don't care."

"Is getting intimate with me really worth jeopardizing your safety?"

"Yes ... "

"Perry ... "

"Petra, it's the UT. We all have secrets here. We're all running from something. I may live another fifty years and never feel this way again, the way I feel about you right here, right now. It's so powerful. I just ... I love you, and I want to be a part of you. I want to feel good with you ... " So much want. All of it triggered by her. It felt too right to ignore.

"And your crew? To the Syndicate, it's guilt by association ... "

"They'd all do the same thing in my position, and they're lying if they say otherwise," he insisted, guiding her to her back. He moved to all fours above her, pre stringing from his tip to her belly-fur. "Life is about experiences. Without them, we're nothing. Let me experience this. Love me. Please ... "

"I do love you." She spread her legs. Not consciously. They just sorta bent at the knees and fell apart, lifting slightly. She could barely breathe. Her heart was hammering.

He curled his fingers in her thick pubic-fur. Then spread them out, combing through it. The paw eventually left her loins. Traveled to her hip, around it. Stopping on her lower back. He lifted her up a bit. Adjusting her body as he, himself, slotted between her thighs, hips beginning to bump.

His finger found her clitoris. Then his thumb. And as he gently massaged it, her willpower evaporated into steam. The pleasure surged through her in a warm wave. "Ah-h ... " Her eyes closed and her toes curled.

The mouse used her moment of happy distraction to initiate intercourse, his thick, six-inch penis easing past her petals and slipping into her raw, steamy tunnel. To a snug, juicy hilt. For just a second. He soon pulled back. Slowly, slowly, though. And then dipped back in. He did this a few times before stopping, whispering against her lips, "My rat ... you feel better than I dared imagine ... "

She hugged him tightly, taking a shaky breath. "My mouse ... "

He began to hump without restraint. Full, firm thrusts, deep and lewd, squeakily grunting all the while. He'd waited too long. He wasn't going to pace himself.

She dug her heels against the backs of his legs, paws beginning to sweat as they moved up and down his back. How long they were at it, the rat couldn't tell. Time moved beyond comprehension. Such was the fog in her mind. It could've been an hour. Could've been seven minutes. They simply made love. Existed as love. Until they couldn't any longer, and he brought her to orgasm.

Peregrine slowed his thrusts as the rat's sex quivered and quaked around him. He gave a happy whine. It was massaging him, practically squeezing, milking him, and he was quickly breaking down. He felt his cock tingle. And, then, bam ... burst! Mouse seed. Painting her walls, seeping into her womb. It was electric. "Ah, y-yes ... yes ... "

She nuzzled at his cheek. Her whiskers drooping with heat. "Oh ... "

He breathlessly kissed her shoulder.

Just like that, it was over.

As if to echo this, the simulated sun had set. It getting very dark. They appeared as shadows to each other. In the background, crickets and cicadas. Or whatever night-bugs populated such a place.

He remained inside her as long as he could before his wet, shrinking penis clumsily flopped out.

She heard the sound it made and chuckled.

He smiled helplessly. Was that a bashful blush in his ears?

The rat nuzzled the mouse, their loins a mess, whiskers brushing together. "What, now?" she asked.

Tomorrow, Reverie would leave for a series of cargo runs. Wouldn't be back for a week or two, depending. They'd never be docked at Redwing for more than a few days between flights. That was the nature of running freight.

"We succumbed to our passion, but ... "

"I want to do this ... to do you," he stressed, "again. I've no doubts about that." He didn't know how their relationship would be defined, or what the rules would be. He just wanted it to continue in some intimate capacity. It felt too good to stop.

She nodded. And whispered back, "I agree ... "

It was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

There was a possibility this wouldn't end well.

But love was worth the risk.