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"More," Seward panted, nose tingling, lungs filling with a familiar, spicy warmth. He looked up from the large white-furred breast he'd been suckling. "Please?" It was 0800, an hour before their duty shifts. They'd only been awake for fifteen, twenty minutes. Maybe more? Neither had glanced at a chronometer. They hadn't even eaten breakfast yet. Too busy nibbling on each other, instead.

"More what? Milk?" she teased. "Didn't have any to begin with." A single, cotton sheet was semi-spiraled around her otherwise naked body. Her fur was a stunning combination of jet black and pearly white. Yin and yang. And it wasn't a short pelt, either. Long, luxurious. You could grab it by the paw-ful.

"You know to what I refer," he said logically, kissing her saliva-wet nipples. They were hard. So hard. And perfectly pink.

Seldovia shivered and sighed.

"Besides, I only drink almond milk."

"You can pretend to be a vegan all you want, Seward, but you've eaten me plenty of times. And I'm not a plant."

He mewed with mirth. "This is true." He massaged her lower belly, gently, deciding, "I would definitely make an exception for skunk milk."

"I'm glad to hear it." She couldn't help but giggle.

"Now, about your scent ... "

"I think you've had enough."

He shook his head. "I can handle it. Handle you," he insisted. "I don't need protected." He'd come to Redwing Station injured in more ways than one. Horribly wounded during the climactic battle of the wasp war. In the months since, he'd slowly healed. Seldovia was a big reason.

"You say that," she replied, "because you're an upright, stolid soul. You prefer to bear your burdens alone. As if you deserve nothing more." Indeed, Seward was more reserved and self-effacing than his snow rabbit crewmates, Graham and Annika. "We've both been so lonely for so long ... " She untangled her body from the bed-sheet and rolled onto her side. This only served to accentuate the curves of her figure. Rising at her fertile hips, dipping at the waist, and rising up again near ...

... her breasts. He stared at them. Wondering if she had the biggest ones on the station. It was between her and Annika. And he'd never seen Annika naked, so it was hard to tell.

"Seward?"

"Mm." Un-distracting himself, he slid up her body. "I'm not lonely anymore," he vowed, nibbling on her chin with his buckteeth.

"Me, neither," she echoed, putting her fingers on his lips.

He sucked on them for a while.

Then she moved her paws to his slender ears, stroking them slowly.

"Mm-h." Running a paw along her side, wriggling closer, he impatiently repeated, "I want all of you."

"Would you still want me without my pheromones? What if something goes wrong with my scent gland and it has to be removed?" Cancer, perhaps. Something awful. It had been known to happen.

"That will not occur," he assured her.

"You're not answering the question," she told him, vulnerably.

"I know you initially used your pheromones to attract me, to lure me to you," he admitted, splaying his fingers in her pelt. He wanted to sigh. We should be fucking by now, his rabbit instincts screamed. He tried to maintain his composure. "And, even if only subconsciously, you are using them now to keep me loyal. They are potent. They do their job." He paused and swallowed. "I don't resent that." He was a tolerant fur and knew that every species had its sexual quirks. Skunks happened to dabble in extremely strong scents. "But to think they are causing me to lose free will and that, somehow, I don't truly love you? If you think that, you are not giving me enough credit."

She skipped a beat before whispering, "No one's ever loved me for me. They've loved my looks. My royal position." Well, ex-royal position. "I guess I'm a little ... " She closed her eyes. " ... insecure."

"I know something about that, myself," he replied. He was often the same way. But, "As soon as we arrived on this station, our lives began anew. This is a second chance." He hugged her body, pressing his hips to hers, sensually. His softer, shorter fur, snowy white, meshing with hers. "I am your mate."

"And I'm yours," she breathed back.

"Then all is well?" He bumped noses, stealing a sloppy kiss from her lips.

She moaned and smiled. And nodded.

"Now." Another kiss, this one simpler. "More pheromones, yes?" he prodded.

She giggled again. He was incorrigible. But that meant he was healthy rabbit! And she was glad for that. "If you were a male skunk," she replied, "I'd release it all. 'Til the gland was emptied. And you'd release yours. We'd both be drunk and drugged on each other. High on each other's distinct, sensual scents. Unable to do anything but mate. And it would feel beyond amazing." She hadn't been with another skunk in years. Not since the very day she'd fled home. She hadn't woken up alone that day. The memory haunted her. So much pleasure. Followed by so much pain. She could still see the blood ...

"So you've told me ... "

All species handled skunk pheromones differently, though. Snow rabbits were incredibly susceptible to them, akin to being lightweight drinkers. "I don't know how I'd explain to Doctor Barrow that you overdosed on my scent," she mumbled. Talk about awkward. Especially with the bat being a mind-reader.

"How many times have we bred, now? And I have been fine."

"There were a few times where you got so high on me you almost zonked out."

"Do not make me beg for the pleasure of being with you," he repeated, desperately. He kissed her neck. "Seldovia. Princess. My mate," the male prattled. "I wish I could spray you back. Then you would have no hesitations ... "

"Your kind is incredibly virile. You have a libido that's ... mm-h, you go and go." His kisses had strayed to her chin. Her cheeks. She turned her head this way and that, panting. "No male skunk I've been with has the motor you've got."

"Yes, well. It's only fitting that I have a good motor. I am the chief engineer," he reminded. "And it is my professional opinion that I must now run some diagnostics on your 'internal systems' ... "

A smile, barely holding back an outright laugh at his 'logical' euphemism. He wouldn't have been this relaxed a few weeks ago. I wouldn't, either, come to think of it. Look how far we've come in so short a time. That's progress, isn't it? "When did you become such a sweet talker? And so... " Trailing off, she moaned. " ... insistent? You're just ... Seward ... " Her words stopped making sense. He was suckling on those nipples, again. But more than that, rubbing a paw between her thighs, fingering her tunnel. One finger, two. The index and middle ones. They slid back and forth into her sex. It was already slightly wet, but he was quickly making it wetter. He rolled onto his back and pulled her atop him, making room for her tail to raise. And it did. Instinctively, curling at the tip.

The snow rabbit knew her weakness. It was an obvious one, perhaps. Not something secret or unusual. But it would arouse her enough to coax more pheromones out of that gland on her tail-base. He nudged her up, pushing at her shoulders. She got the idea and rose to a straddle of his hips. He pulled his fingers out of her vagina. Now wet, they slid a few inches upward. Her clitoris. He gently began massaging it with his fingertips, circling around it, tapping it. Pushing it like a button.

"Oh-h ... fine, fine," she relented, rolling her hips against his loins. Turning into putty in his paws. A hissing sound could be heard behind her. She wanted him. And he wanted her. And wanted it. And who cared about restraint? She began spraying. Her big fluffy tail, twitching with arousal and excitement, inadvertently, or perhaps purposely, spread the pheromones, causing them to fill the surrounding air.

"Mm." Seward sniffed the air, greedily, eyes fluttering. "Mm-h. Yes," he grunted, happily. His desire to breed became even more intense, bordering on insane. Beyond rational. Her. He wanted her. More than water or air or any essential thing. He knew he was under the influence, but he felt so relaxed, so warm. Uninhibited. His repressed emotions easing somewhat. The burning in his lungs spread through his entire body. But it didn't hurt. No, not at all. Like he was floating on a sunny cloud of bliss. And she was floating above him, paws rubbing at his chest. She hunched over, lifting her hips, trying to guide his raging erection into her body.

He gripped her hips, feeling too dumb to move, looking down and watching as her pink, pouting petals, a colorful oasis amidst the black and white, swallowed his equally pink, if not red, throbbing, seven-inch penis. He was soon hilted in her hot, velvety pussy. "Mm-h ... "

The skunk mewed. So full. Craving friction and release, she arched, fluttering that tail a bit. And began to bounce. Riding him, making him even more senseless than he already was.

It was a few minutes after 0900, now.

Seldovia stepped out of the lift in Ops, smoothing at her pretty fur, combing it with her claws. It was a bit damp and matted, still. From the too-quick shower she'd taken. Her sleeves were rolled up. Uniform unzipped down to her significant cleavage. She pulled at her pants, awkwardly. Her panties were a bit lower than was comfortable. But at least she was wearing them. She was a little breathless, trying to hide her embarrassment.

She and Seward had completely lost track of time. What had started out as frantic, wild lovemaking had turned into a slow, savory affair, with the skunk on her back by the end of it, getting the full brunt of those strong rabbit legs. After about ten minutes of nuzzling afterglow, she remembered that they actually had jobs. And had literally rolled out of bed and onto the floor. Luckily, all the rooms were carpeted. He'd still been a little bit 'high' on her when he'd left, too. She wondered how he was faring.

Thankfully, no one had noticed her own lateness. Had they? Or, at least, she wasn't reprimanded for it. Graham was in his office. She could see him sitting at his desk through the triangular windows. Annika was at a station on the other side of the room. Petra was nearest to her.

"Mornin'," the rat greeted, without looking up.

"Morning," the skunk replied with a nod, taking her seat at the comm station. She tapped at the controls. A few communiqués in the cache. Hmm. She picked up a silvery earpiece and began to listen.

"Havin' a good one?"

"What?" Seldovia took the earpiece out and glanced at the rat.

"A good morning."

"Well ... "

"From what I heard, I'd say yes," the rat continued, dryly.

"Oh. Right. I hope we didn't ... I mean, we didn't mean to ... " Seldovia and Seward's quarters were right next to Petra's.

"I was already up," she continued, nonchalantly. "As for hearin' such things, I'm used to it. You think it's bad on the station? Try bein' on a freighter." She paused before admitting, "I was pretty amused, actually. Tried to guess what particular acts were prompting what particular noises."

Seldovia felt her cheeks burn beneath the fur.

"Your commotion did make me miss Perry," Petra finally admitted. Her mate, the mouse captain of freighter Reverie. The little ship was still on its latest cargo run. And they were deep enough into their mission that they had to maintain radio silence because of proximity to known Syndicate hotspots.

"I've only been on transports," the skunk told her, taking a deep breath. "You miss him?" she asked. But as soon as she did, she scolded herself. Of course she misses him, Seldovia! She just said as much. What a stupid question.

"Miss somethin' new every day." Her whiskers twitched. "Today, it's wakin' up with him. Seein' his cute pink nose sniff while he sleeps. Hearin' his squeaky yawn as he stirs. Tryin' to guess what lewd, cheeky thing he's gonna say when he opens his eyes." She shook her head, not used to being such a sap. Especially not in public. What's love doin' to me? Am I too content? I know I've lost some of my edge since leaving the Syndicate. For so many years, that was all I had. My toughness. That's what Perry loves most about me. My sharp attitude. Well, and my pussy. He'd said as much on both counts. And she'd given him a harmless shove when he did. He was such a smart-aleck sometimes. The rat smiled, fondly.

"I can't imagine being in a 'closed' mate-ship and not living together," Seldovia mentioned.

"Happens." A heavy sigh. The rat's fleshy ears, not as big as a mouse's, swiveled matter-of-factly. "Sometimes, love isn't enough to live on. You can't fuck twenty-four/seven."

"Tell that to a rabbit ... "

Petra flashed the skunk a look. "Most furs need somethin' else to do. A way to contribute to society, feel purposeful. Hobbies. Interests. For most, it's their jobs. Perry and I have our separate careers, and ... " At least Reverie was now aligned with Redwing. Using her as its Home-base. His orbit will always swing my way. She just wished, selfishly, that it was more often. "My life's never been a fairy tale like yours."

"My fairy tale came to an abrupt, bloody end, remember?" Seldovia replied bitterly. She got extremely defensive when furs suggested her life was and always had been easy.

The rat shook her head, whiskers twitching. "Sorry. That was a cheap shot. I'm ... " Her thick, naked tail stiffened. "Never mind." She shook her head. You don't need to discuss your problems with anyone. Let alone Seldovia. She's a communications officer. She loves disseminating information.

"What is it? You can trust me. Honest." The ex-princess put a black paw over her heart.

"I don't need unburdening," the brown-furred rat told her, simply, with more force than intended. "I just need you to attend a staff meeting after lunch. Ward room."

"What about?"

"One of the communiqués you haven't listened to yet," the first officer said. Her subtle way of ordering the skunk to return to her duties.

Seldovia blinked, cleared her throat, and did so. Tapped a few melodic buttons on her console, and fitted her ear-piece back into her left ear.

As she busied herself listening, the main lift whooshed into view, and out padded Herkimer. The gentle, grey-furred mouse shared the same lonely look that Petra had. Only, he wasn't hiding it as well. His new mate, Talkeetna, was also aboard Reverie. He'd not anticipated the long radio silences and was beginning to worry. Petra had assured him multiple times that it was 'no big deal' and that Peregrine 'has a hold o' things.'

"I did a systems check," the mouse told the rat, handing her a computer pad. He looked tired. Like he'd not slept well. Bad dreams, maybe? Tossing and turning? "Everything's held up. The koalas didn't damage anything, and we're ready for more guests." The station had officially welcomed its first visitors a few days ago. A harmless group of koalas. Traders who'd wandered through the system on their way to the High Command border. Apparently, they dealt a lot of eucalyptus and aloe to the more winter-prone colonies. For healthy paws and pelts. And for hot teas, too. They'd only stayed a single night.

"Feel like we're runnin' a hotel," the rat joked, nodding. She stretched an arm over to Annika, handing her the pad.

The snow rabbit, who'd been quietly working, promptly cross-checked and filed the information in the main database.

"As snooty as those koalas were, they seemed pleased when they left. If they tell other furs, we'll finally have word of mouth. Become a port of call." Especially amongst the traders who deal with the snow rabbit border worlds. "We might develop a reputation," Seldovia said, having gotten through most of the communiqués. Nothing unusual so far. A 'how are you doing' message from Aria, meant for Graham. A 'wrong number' type thing. Some random subspace static. "Then maybe the High Command will invest more personnel and technology to help us fortify our position. Sheila keeps complaining that our weapons array needs a complete overhaul."

"That is the hope," Annika said, excusing herself to enter Graham's office.

"Why's she so quiet today?" Seldovia asked.

"I have my suspicions," Petra answered.

Seldovia opened her muzzle to ask for more.

And Petra cut her off with, "But I don't wish to gossip."

The skunk frowned, adjusting her earpiece and playing the final communiqué.

"Well, uh, I guess I'll get back to tidying and making things ship-shape. And planning for the next visitors," Herkimer said slowly, turning to leave. As head of 'Ops,' or operations, it was his job to plan things. Activities, routines, and the like. And that included making sure guests' stays went smoothly.

"You won't have much time, if I'm hearing this correctly," Seldovia told the mouse, blinking in surprise.

Dishy ears swiveling, he looked over his shoulder. A sigh. "When will they get here?"

"Tomorrow morning."

Whiskers twitching, he nodded. "That's doable. I'll have everything ready." Besides, with his mate away, it's not like he had anything better to do. He hurried into the lift. "Habitat ring," he told the computer, biting his lower lip and hugging himself before being whisked away.

"Poor mouse," Seldovia said once he was gone. "He looks so tense and sad ... makes him even cuter, somehow." She smiled, weakly. "Is that awful to say?"

"Our friend is suffering from a classic case of hardcore lovesickness. He'll be fine. Just needs time to adjust. I'm surprised Barrow hasn't noticed and hooked him up with a holographic partner," Petra said. Or maybe he had and it hadn't scratched the mouse's itch? She glanced at Seldovia. "You listened to all the communiqués?"

"Yeah ... "

"I assumed you'd be interested. Shuttle-load o' skunks."

"We're not exactly an endangered species," Seldovia replied, evasively.

The rat just tilted her head, waiting for more. The comm officer always had more to say.

And sure enough, "But I've not really been around my own species since ... " Well, since the coup that had overthrown her family's monarchy. "I wonder if they're from the same place? I bet they are. Oh, god ... they'll recognize me. What if they're rebels instead of royalists?"

"I don't know anything about your planet, or the political ... whatever," the rat said, simply. "But I've seen some skunks in the UT. One serves aboard Reverie. Sheila mentioned a few had been aboard her old freighter ... "

"But my planet has the largest concentration outside the Federation."

"So, what if they are from your world? The coup that overthrew your family is long over. It's settled. And Sheila will kick their furry asses out the nearest airlock if they try and hurt you. You're part of the crew, now. You're one of us. We got your tail."

This made the skunk smile. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were saying ... that you don't want anything to happen to me. That maybe you're my friend?"

"Let's not get too crazy," Petra said, restraining a warm smile.

Seldovia giggled and sat up straighter. Trying not to think about their guests. But the more she tried not to, the more she did.

It was after lunch.

Graham, paws clasped behind his back, was standing at the head of the rectangular table in the ward room, the meeting space just below Ops. The entire crew was here. All but one. And her absence was going to require his own. "Before I begin, I should inform you that the ambassador is coming into heat," he said, never one to be embarrassed. "She's on leave until it passes." As was customary. It was also customary that a female's 'heat leave' would transfer to her partner of choice. And since he was Annika's mate, well, "I'm afraid I will be ... preoccupied," he said, with a hint of restrained mirth, pure-white bobtail flickering with a measure of excitement, "for a while."

Petra nodded lightly, her earlier suspicions confirmed.

Herkimer, meanwhile, exchanged a shy look with a smirking Barrow.

Advent just crossed her arms and 'harrumphed.'

And Sheila looked out a window, awkwardly. She'd walked in one Graham and Annika last week. 'Being furs,' as the old euphemism went. They hadn't seemed to mind. But it was hard to forget. It also reminded her that she'd be coming into heat soon, as well. Next week. And now that she'd started letting her guard down with Barrow, letting him bite during sex, experiencing the 'mind link' with him, just how intimate would they get when neither of them had any self-control?

"That being the case," the commander continued, "Petra will be in charge for the majority of the next few days. I will, of course, personally greet our guests when they arrive, and if anything comes up afterward ... "

" ... which I'm sure it will," Advent muttered.

" ... I will only be a hop-step away."

The jaguar slouched back in her chair. Everyone on the crew was now paired off. Except for her. This in spite of the fact that she'd now bred with half the males on the station. Granted, there were only four males here, but still. They didn't know a good thing when they'd had it.

"My absence may be fortuitous, however," Graham insisted, as if trying to allay the notion that he was skipping out on duty for endless recreation. "Our visitors will be skunks. And staunch UT natives."

"They didn't say that in the message," Seldovia quickly injected. "But it stands to reason. Skunks in these parts tend to resent authority." She looked down, self-consciously.

Graham nodded. "They may dislike a High Command paw-hold in the region, and could view me with ... hesitation," he said, after a brief pause. "Petra is a native herself and will be able to 'speak their language'. Let them see that UT natives and those of the High Command ... "

" ... and Federation," Advent injected.

Graham dipped his head in acknowledgment. "Let's just show our visitors that we have the best intentions."

"They're one shuttle," Advent continued. "Six, seven individuals? It's not like they're an invading horde. They should be respecting us. It's not our job to impress them."

The commander sighed, opening his muzzle to stop the feline. But she continued talking.

"The key to maintaining an advantage over someone isn't to appease them. It's to hold your ground and make them see they were wrong to doubt your position in the first place."

"Well. I am glad Annika is not present to hear that," Graham said tolerantly. He pulled out his chair and sat down, ears twiddling atop his lapine head. "We can't afford to make enemies out here. Having lawlessness just outside one's borders is a massive security threat. The wasps came from the UT. And, as most of you know, they nearly ended furry civilization." The commander saw Seward and Herkimer flinch. Sheila's eyes went dead blank. "And when they have raised a suitable new queen, they may yet try again. We need to bring some semblance of order to this region. That means making friends. Allies."

"You're gonna get some pushback," Petra warned.

"I'm well aware. And have been since day one. I hope not from you, however?"

The rat shook her head and replied, "In a power vacuum, nefarious elements generally end up taking the point." She was referring, of course, to the Syndicate, the group of rogue bats that had, with their telepathic powers, formed an intricate cartel that rarely heeded ethics. "I'd rather have the High Command or even the Federation than the alternatives."

"You can't assume furs will be your friend," Advent added, bitingly. Almost resentfully. "Skunks have spray. And it stinks."

"That's a simplification. We have two glands," Seldovia defended. "And we can't use the 'bad' one unless we feel threatened. That requires an adrenaline spike." The good one, of course, required intense arousal.

"I'm sure you can take injections to artificially raise your adrenaline levels," the jaguar reasoned. She gave Graham a stare down. "If they do have ill intent, they could board the station, spray us until we're incapacitated and take over the station. Until we're certain of their intent, they should be accompanied by armed guards."

Sheila, not in the mood to argue, said, "I thought they weren't an invading horde? I'll greet them, of course. With a phase pistol on my belt. But if we approach every visiting ship as a 'hostile' and they're not, we're not likely to get good word of mouth when they leave. That's no way to build a successful outpost."

"Since when are you so trusting? You're as cynical as anyone in this room. Hope you're not getting soft."

Barrow bristled.

Sheila held up a paw to stop the blue bat. I can fight my own battles, she thought at him.

"That's the problem with prey. You, all of you," she said, "are hoping, even if it's only deep down, that things are going to be fine and peachy. You can't think like that. If you were a predator, you'd know that it's about control. If you don't control every aspect of a situation, you're at risk."

"You almost sound like the Syndicate," Petra drawled, darkly.

Advent narrowed her eyes. "I'm just trying to help this crew be thorough."

"That's not High Command policy, Advent," Graham said, calmly. "And this is a High Command station."

A huff, shaking her head. "Pointless," she muttered.

"If anyone is to meet an' greet the visitors, it should be Seldovia," Petra said, glad that Advent had finally shut up. "They're skunks. She's a skunk."

"Who'd a thunk?" Barrow said, smiling.

Herkimer blinked at his winged friend, whiskers twitching lightly.

"Oh, come on. A mouse giving me grief for a cheesy joke?"

"I didn't even say anything!"

"Telepath," Barrow reminded.

The mouse wriggled in his chair, shaking his head and admitting, "I wouldn't even call it a joke. More like a pun, really. Or a play on words. You were reaching ... "

"Boys," Graham warned, lightly.

They fell quiet.

"Seldovia? Did these skunks come from your home-world?"

She'd been waiting for that question. She swallowed, squirming, beautiful black and white-striped tail furling over the back of her chair. "I dunno. It's possible. Their message didn't say." Everyone in the room looked expectantly at her to continue, and her fuzzy, rounded ears went back slightly. "I've been trying to find comm-chatter about it, but so far neither the royalists or the rebels have been forthcoming."

"You can access their secure frequencies?" Advent asked, suspiciously.

"Somewhat. I was interested in communications even before my family was ... " Murdered. " ... overthrown. They've changed some of the codes since I left, but a few channels can still be eavesdropped on. Anyway, it doesn't matter. The ship that's headed our way has a completely neutral signature, so ... " She trailed off.

"Could've gotten their ship from a junkyard. Or a black market. Or just built it themselves," Petra suggested. "Or could've had the electronic signature erased." Not everyone wanted to go around with an ID attached to them. Especially in the UT.

"Did the rebels have legitimate concerns?" Sheila asked, curiously.

Seldovia gave the silver hare a burning, resentful look. "Even if they did, there were surely better ways to express them."

Herkimer's whiskers twitched. He rubbed one paw over the back of another. "Do, uh ... do skunks have any specific likes/dislikes? I'm preparing all the guest quarters." The koalas had liked a warmer temperature than what the climate controls had been set to. And had complained immediately.

"Our fur is long. Takes time to groom." Tails, especially. "Brushes for that, definitely. I can't think of anything else. The food processors should meet their dietary requirements."

"Tomato juice," Advent added.

Everyone looked her way, including Seldovia, who was clearly offended.

"What?"

Graham held up a paw and asked Seldovia, "If their ship signature is neutral, will we be able to tell if they are royalists or rebels without asking them?"

"Probably not." A pause. "Well ... " The skunk looked to Barrow.

The bat nodded. "Should be easy. I can scan their minds when they're in their shuttle, even, before the airlock opens. They'll be close enough. That way, if they truly are planning something, we'll know."

"Good. If that's it for now?" the snow rabbit asked, raising a brow. He nodded and stood. "Dismissed."

A heavy, metallic 'ker-klunk!' echoed down the short corridor, vibrating through the carpeted deck plating.

Seward glanced over his shoulder, nodding. "They're docked."

"Barrow," Sheila said, simply, paw on her holstered phase pistol. Slanting her body weight to the hip it was attached to.

The bat stepped forward. Without blinking or breaking a sweat, he opened his wing-arms a bit, mostly for show, and reached out with his telepathic feelers. "Seven of them. Four males, three females."

"That's not what we need," reminded Graham, who was standing next to a cross-armed Petra.

The doctor nodded. "I sense no 'rebellious' memories. They seem to come from well-to-do families. They left home after the revolt. They're coming back from a vacation."

"How erudite," Sheila remarked, rolling her eyes and taking her paw off her weapon.

"They thought this place was abandoned. They're curious what's going on here." A pause. "They're royalists." Barrow looked to Seldovia. "You can relax, now."

The skunk sighed heavily. She couldn't relax, though. Now that she knew they were friendly, there was still the worry of whether or not they would recognize her. And if so, how they would react. And if they would tell anyone back home.

The bat could sense the skunk's nervousness, even through the mental block she had. Hers wasn't nearly as strong as Sheila's or Advent's. It was easier to look through the cracks. "Need me to stay?" he asked Seldovia.

Before the skunk could answer, Graham told the doctor, as diplomatically as possible, "Perhaps it would be best if they found out about your presence later, after we earn their trust?"

"In other words: in the UT, us bats are synonymous with the Syndicate. We don't want them seeing me and thinking we're in cahoots with nefarious elements. Might scare them off, huh?"

Graham's muzzle remained shut.

Barrow frowned, clearly offended. But perhaps playing it up a bit. "Very well, sir," he said, exchanging a look with Sheila before excusing himself. "I'll be in the infirmary, licking my wounds."

When the bat was out of earshot, the hare said, "Should I add 'guilt by association' to my security protocols?"

"I know you're breeding with the good doctor, Lieutenant-Commander," Graham replied, bluntly. "But even you should see the logic in my request. I'm not accusing Barrow of anything. I both trust and like him. His duty record thus far is impeccable. But if the first thing our guests see when boarding the station is a bat, they may tense up. They may not trust us. I wish that wasn't the case ... " But it was. While bats had achieved a high level of acceptance in High Command space, thanks to their role in defeating the wasps, they were still viewed with some degree of wariness in the Federation and elsewhere. But it was taken to the extreme in the UT. Out here, they were downright feared. And that's exactly how the Syndicate wanted it.

The silver hare sighed, rubbing her eyes. Tall, keen ears 'scissoring' a few times. She couldn't really fault Graham's line of thinking. But, in the ward room, Barrow had been ready to come to her defense when Advent had provoked her. It's only fair I do the same for him. Whether I'm sharing his bed or not. And I am sharing his bed. More frequently than ever. Once more, her confusing and deepening feelings for him rushed to the fore. She shoved them back down as the airlock slid open, putting on a steely expression.

Graham hopped forward, extending a paw to the first skunk that emerged. A male. Late-thirties, early-forties. Not quite middle-aged but getting there. Blinking in surprise, he extended his black-furred paw, taking the snow rabbit's in his. And shook it amiably. "My, what a flattering welcome party this is," the skunk said, nodding to Graham. And looking around at the others. He had a deep, rich voice. "I am Cedric, owner of our glorified shuttle, here. We thought this station had been long-abandoned. When we saw its energy signature was currently active, we sent out our message, and well, here we are." He let go of the snow rabbit's paw and laughed.

"I am Commander Graham of the snow rabbit High Command," Graham continued, nodding. "This is my first officer, Lieutenant-Commander Petra. She is a native of the Uncharted Territories."

"Charmed," the rat said, dryly.

"Likewise," the skunk replied, bowing his head.

"Security chief Sheila."

The hare nodded stiffly, her puffy-white fluff-tail flagging high.

Cedric eyed the hare, seeming a bit intimidated.

"Chief engineer Seward. And, finally, our communications officer ... "

" ... my god," Cedric breathed, pulling back a bit, blinking in disbelief. "It can't be." The other skunk passengers, who'd begun collecting and lining up behind him, began murmuring amongst themselves. Nodding, pointing, eyes going wide.

"Look!"

"Is it really her?"

"I can't believe it!"

Seldovia straightened her shoulders, taking a deep breath. Obviously, she'd been recognized. "Hello," she breathed.

"Princess?" Cedric whispered.

"I go by plain old Seldovia, nowadays," she said, paws trembling with nervousness. She had to clasp them behind her back. Hold yourself together. You're doing fine.

Seward saw her shaking and stepped behind her, putting a single paw atop both of hers in support.

She sighed at this.

"I, uh ... forgive me, Commander Graham, but ... " Cedric shook his head as the other skunks slipped past him and began to surround Seldovia. "All members of our last monarchy were presumed dead!" His eyes widened.

"I understand. However ... "

Seldovia turned in a slow circle as all the skunks touched her, asked her questions, sniffed at her scent. Though still nervous, she began to feel unbelievably flattered. The center of attention. It made part of her a bit giddy.

"However," Graham repeated, more loudly.

The skunks stopped and looked his way in unison, as if caught doing something illicit.

Sheila snerked.

"Perhaps we should acquaint you with your guest quarters and get you situated first. If Seldovia ... the Princess," he corrected, "wishes to grace you with her presence, it might be best over a communal meal. Lunch? Two hours from now? Your crew and mine."

"That sounds most delightful," Cedric said, distractedly, for his group. He couldn't take his eyes off the Princess. And she noticed. Her own eyes darting his way a few times. He was a handsome skunk. Rugged, almost. And that voice! And he was clearly cultured.

Graham exchanged a look with Seward, his fellow snow rabbit. The other male's posture was stiff with concern, if not jealousy. Tall ears stiffening. He wanted to be here to support his mate, but this was starting to make him uncomfortable. Am I that shallow? That selfish? She has been waiting for this moment for many years. Don't ruin this for her.

"Seward, perhaps you'd like to resume your duties?"

"Yes, that would be ... yes," he said, nodding. "Excuse me." He looked at Seldovia, who hadn't introduced him to the skunks as her mate. But, then, he hadn't told them, either. He opened his maw to do so but quickly shut it, padding off to the Promenade.

Seldovia looked over her shoulder and watched him go, feeling a bit guilty. But not so much that she wasn't able to smile at her newfound 'subjects.'

Sheila crossed her arms and shook her head. You'd never find me bowing and fawning over anyone. Barrow could attest to that.

Graham, meanwhile, sidled up to Petra, whispering, "Will you be able to handle this from here? I'll be out of commission for the next three days." On Annika's behalf, of course!

"Wine 'em, dine 'em. Show 'em around." Her thick, fleshy tail made a whip-like movement. "I got it."

"Use tact, won't you?" the snow rabbit said, lightly.

"Us rats are nothin' but tact," she defended with a scraggly bucktoothed smirk.

"And, please, do not interrupt us unless it is an emergency ... I still remember last month." He made a face.

"That wasn't me. That was Barrow."

"Yes, well, I don't need to be prank called when my muzzle is full, if you catch my drift."

"Just don't fuck yourselves to death. Remember to eat and drink. Water. Carrots. Lots of carrots."

"Tact, Petra?" Graham reminded, resisting a mew as he excused himself to their guests and hopped off to his quarters impatiently.

"Nerves acting up again?" Barrow asked Seward, leaving his office and entering the open examination area. The lights were dimmed. The snow rabbit had just entered the infirmary, hopping up onto a bio-bed without saying anything. "Seward?"

"It's like a cave in here," was all he said.

"I can turn 'em up if you like," Barrow said, patiently.

"No, that's ... " A deep breath. "I was about to do some repair-work, but I ... I just feel a consistent twitching in my leg. It doesn't hurt, but ... " He stretched, tensely. "It is annoying. Not to mention distracting." He put a paw on his face. "Also, my cheek tingles." The injuries he'd suffered in the war had been quite severe. It could take over a year to fully recover. At least he was halfway there.

Hooking his extra-long thumb around a scanner, the periwinkle-furred bat passed the device over the snow rabbit's body. It beeped and buzzed. "Mm. Definitely some tension. You been practicing the relaxation techniques I told you about?"

"Some of them."

"You should do all of them," he scolded, gently, putting the scanner down. "Vitamins? Diet? I know you're a vegan."

"Perhaps I haven't been eating so much the past few days ... "

"Well, do so. I'm going to give you an injection to lower your blood pressure. Relax you a bit. Remember: deep breaths. Your body needs oxygen to heal. Keep limber. Eat well. I mean ... the little things, you know? You've gotten past the muscle and bone damage. Just gotta work on those nerves."

Seward nodded quietly, his tall ears twiddling stiffly. He'd heard all this before. So many times.

"Something else on your mind?" the bat asked, nonchalantly. Knowing full well the answer.

"My, uh ... my mate and our guests," he replied, quietly, looking down at his big bare foot-paws. And then to Barrow's. Seward's were several inches longer.

"You're worried they want to woo her."

"It's more than a worry," he insisted, raising his voice. Then sighing apologetically. His tone became quiet again. "I wasn't with them long, but they were practically trying to get in her uniform."

"Even the females? Hot."

Seward wasn't amused.

The bat held up his wing-arms. "Sorry, sorry ... go on," he nudged.

"Just ... it's their leader, specifically. Cedric. He seems rather ... " He didn't know how to finish that sentence.

"You think she'll succumb to him?"

"Skunks have unique physiologies."

"I'm a doctor. I know all about it," Barrow insisted. "You think he'll use his pheromones to attract her?"

"I am certain of it." A pause. "And I have been sprayed before. Obviously," Seward admitted. "When you become high on a skunk's pheromones, you find them practically irresistible."

"Mm-hmm. So, given that there are 'extenuating circumstances,' as you suggest, if she does stray ... would you blame her?"

The snow rabbit's bobtail rose up evasively. "How could I?"

"Well, she may have little choice once she's sprayed, true, but if I'm not mistaken, a skunk has to be pretty heavily aroused to relax that particular gland. And if any of our guests are getting to that point, she should see it coming. She'll have a few minutes warning. Unless she's oblivious to flirting and seduction."

"No, she is not. Quite the opposite." The snow rabbit shook his head. "She's just somewhat insecure." Much like myself. "It makes her very vulnerable to flattery."

The bat didn't bother asking. Just read Seward's mind and said, ""You sound like, if something happened, you'd blame yourself. Because you're not a male skunk? You don't have a scent gland? That's fucking silly, Seward. Aren't you proud of being a snow rabbit?"

"Of course!"

"You just seem so resigned that she's gonna cheat on you, though. Be more confident! If you're afraid they're going to seducer her, don't let it happen. Ask the computer where she is, march to her location, and sweep her off her foot-paws. Remind her that, unlike our guests, you don't love her just for her scent or her place in high society."

"She hasn't seen her own kind in years. She has deep-rooted issues to work through. I know what it is like to be haunted by one's past," he whispered. "Maybe this will let her get it through her system."

"Sounds like bitter medicine on your part, though. Even if it does go down well for her."

"I do not wish to get in the way."

"You're her mate! Are you that passive?" The bat tilted his head, still sifting through the snow rabbit's mind. "You think she only loves you cause you were all that was left? You're wrong. I've sensed her thoughts toward you. They're passionate, lewd, emotional. They're real. Not every romance is the same. That's what makes each relationship or hookup so exciting. The variety. That's both the wondrous and infuriating way of nature." He thought of Sheila. Striking, sensual. Tawdry. Tough and unforgiving. Stubborn as hell. Yeah, she ran the spectrum. "Infinite diversity in infinite combinations."

Seward looked up. "I appreciate and understand your advice, doctor. But if you love someone, does that not entail giving them the freedom to choose what to do with themselves? I do not own her. And 'open mate-ships' are the norm amongst my species. I've been in them before."

"Do you want to be in one now?"

"Aren't you in one?" the snow rabbit countered.

"I guess. I don't know. It's hard to explain." He chittered. "Hey! Don't make me the subject, here. This is about you." He pointed a wing-arm at Seward's chest. "What do you want?"

"I want her to be happy."

"Happiness is fleeting, Seward. It's transient. Momentary. Just like any other emotion. You can't be in a constant state of happiness. You should try for satisfaction, instead."

"The terminology is unimportant."

"I don't believe that."

Seward got up and took a breath, stretching. "I love her enough that I would not chain her to me if she does not wish it. Though, if I could, I would gladly chain myself to her." He seemed awfully emotional for a snow rabbit. His paw was trembling as he spoke. "Thank you for your continued attention to my physical health, doctor. I do appreciate it."

The bat smiled lightly, sweeping ears bending back, wishing he'd been able to help a little bit more. When he'd arrived here, he'd been crude, arrogant. Okay, so he was still those things. But he was softening a little bit, right? Viewing the crew as his friends. Family, even. It was becoming hard to imagine life without them. Even Advent and her bitchiness. After being persecuted and chased for so long, had he finally found a permanent home? Or was this bound to cave in on his head, too? He only wished he could fully be himself. Not just around Sheila but around everyone. He wasn't mad at Graham, but ... " ... come back to me tomorrow, so I can make sure you're okay? Office is always open. In return, I just ask my patients to keep open minds."

Seward bowed his head and hopped away.

Barrow chittered with amusement and slapped his comm-badge with a wing-tip. "Hey, Herkimer."

"Yes?" came the squeaky reply.

"You busy?"

"I have a moment." A shy hesitation. "Why?"

The bat's fangs jutted out in a grin. "How's this joke for mouse standards: Office is always open. In return, I just ask ... "

"Thank you for the tour of the station."

"You only saw a fraction. This place is huge," Seldovia insisted. After the big luncheon, she'd gotten a bit overwhelmed. She was enjoying the newfound attention. Almost too much. It was beginning to tire her out. Seeing how flustered she was, Cedric had asked if she'd like to slip away for a bit. Perhaps foolishly, she'd said yes.

"I know. It's intimidating to approach," he replied, remaining a paw-step behind her. It wasn't proper to walk before royalty.

"And it's not all 'up to spec' yet, but ... " She trailed off as they turned a corner. Heading into an quiet, carpeted corridor. On their way to the nearest lift. "And this deck is mostly empty. We're on the lower level of the habitat ring, now." She gestured with her black paws. "Lot of unused space. Hopefully, someday soon, we'll be much busier."

"Won't that be more work for you?" Cedric asked. The idea of a princess doing menial labor was bothersome to him. She should be pampered!

"I guess. It'll be more rewarding, though."

"Well. Just glad you're able to take care of us. We were in need of a stopover." They passed a few closed doors. And, in the silence, he couldn't help but confess, "You're so much prettier in the fur than in any of your computer profiles."

The female skunk swallowed. "Thank you ... "

"I'm sure it's obvious by now, but I've long admired you, Princess."

"I told you: Seldovia," she supplied, shyly. What was it about Cedric that was making her knees feel like jelly? Was it his deep baritone? His toned build? The way he practically worshipped the ground her foot-paws walked? Or maybe it was how he'd spent the entire lunch hour in the ward room discreetly rubbing his bare foot-paw against hers beneath the table.

"I could never call a monarch by her name. I'm not worthy of that."

She flushed beneath her pelt. Cheeks getting hot. "Nonsense. I'm just the same as anybody else."

"But you're not. That's why you have the title you do." He stopped, touching her paw with his. She stopped, too. "I thought you were dead. The entire planet thinks that. I'm just ... " He reached out to touch her, combing his fingers through her tail-fluff. "It makes me so happy to see you alive."

"It wasn't easy ... "

"I imagine not. The monarchy was unfairly blamed for our society's ills," the male continued. "The revolt was very ... unfortunate," he whispered, shaking his head. "After it was over and a civilian forum was installed, it just wasn't the same. There was no unified voice. No guiding paw. It was chaos for several years. Still is, in my opinion. I left."

"What do you do, now?"

"This and that. And the other. Mostly the other," he murmured, his body incredibly close to hers now. "I ferry skunks where they want to go. And, sometimes, I go where I want to go."

She swallowed, beginning to pant. "I see ... "

"You're the lone skunk on this outpost?"

"Yes."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. You must miss the company of your own kind."

"Sometimes," she admitted. Like right now ...

"I can't imagine how that would be." He pressed his lips to her shoulder, hoping he wasn't being too presumptuous. "I never dreamed of being this close to royalty. To such beauty." He lifted his head and exhaled on her cheek. "Princess."

"Yes?" she asked, feeling quite breathless.

"I've been thinking. Since you're the last of your line, you're not really a princess anymore, are you?"

"I, uh ... well ... "

"You're the Queen."

"Queen?" She blushed. But, oh, she smiled, too. "Oh, no. No ... I'm not ... " Her words were swallowed up by a sudden, passionate kiss. "Mm-f!"

"Mm ... " He pressed her to a bulkhead, pinned her there forecefully, his tongue working its way into her mouth.

Seldovia melted on the spot, paws clutched at his sides.

When the kiss broke, he panted, "These rooms are all empty? Any of them have anything to lay down on?

Her heart skipped a beat as she wondered how to answer that.

"You're under High Command jurisdiction? In the UT?" one of the female skunks asked, colors splashing across her muzzle. "Why are the snow rabbits bothering to extend themselves this far? Haven't they been through enough, lately? This entire region has always been prone to anarchy. Nothing will change that."

"Has anybody tried?" Sheila challenged, changing positions again. She found it horribly uncomfortable to sit on grass. But, then, I've been in space so long. I'm not used to nature anymore, am I?

"Yes. And whenever someone starts to make legitimate progress, the Syndicate takes notice."

"And what happens then?" the hare asked, narrowing her eyes. She'd escorted one of the skunks on a visit to the holo-suites. Apparently, the skunk had never seen one. The hare had made sure to demonstrate the tamest program she could think of. A grassy meadow at sunset. Under a sky with three moons. No need to tell her what most of us actually use these things for ...

"I, uh ... would rather talk about more pleasant things," the other female said, uncomfortably.

"Something's on your mind, though. Might as well let it out."

"You telepathic? Like them?" A suspicious squint, tail-fur ruffled by a sudden breeze.

"Of course not. I'm a hare," she emphasized, waggling her ears in consternation.

The skunk looked sheepish. "Sorry, it's just ... no one openly talks about it, because there's no real proof, but you know what I think?" She lowered her voice. "I think the Syndicate instigated the revolt on our planet. We were becoming pretty independent. Pretty strong. They planted seeds, pulled strings. Now, we're a mess. Certainly no match for them anymore."

"Do you have proof of this?" Sheila asked.

"I don't need it. I've heard things. It's how they work, you know? They're all corrupt. They can slip into every corner or crevice of a society. Via individual minds." A pause, mentioning, "I saw one of them is aboard your crew."

"He's harmless. He's not even from the UT. He's from the Federation," Sheila defended. Not adding, of course, that she frequently bred with him. She didn't want to scare the skunk away. But she was beginning to see, more and more, what kind of prejudice some bats had to deal with. She'd faced discrimination herself, though. As a prey security officer trying to rise through predator-friendly Federation ranks. Then being abandoned by them entirely. Feeling sorry for yourself doesn't solve anything. And pitying Barrow doesn't help his situation, either. Maybe I'm heartless. But life is full of disappointments. If you can't handle them, there's no helping you. It's best to have a thick pelt.

"Doesn't matter where he's from. You think bats originated in the UT? They simply emigrated here. The Syndicate is full of outcasts. Misfits and malcontents."

"Not all bats are part of the Syndicate, though. You can't just ... " She huffed. " ... blindly group a whole species with an organization or government. Where's the justice in that?" She'd become a security officer for a reason. To defend the freedom and rights of others. And if she had to kick some ass in the process, all the better. "Granted, some bats are moderate rogues regardless. But some are fully law-abiding citizens."

The skunk scoffed. "If you say so. Why do you care so much?"

A sigh. "I don't ... " And maybe if she'd never met Barrow, she'd feel exactly as the skunk did. I probably would. What does that say about me? And, hey, it's not like Barrow is some poor victim here. He can be a downright bastard, sometimes. But I've been inside his head, now. And he's been inside mine. I can't shake what I'm starting to feel ...

The skunk gave her a look-over, starting to frown.

The hare changed the subject. "You have a mate?"

Her eyes lit up. "I do!" She nodded. "I'm with one of the skunks on the shuttle. Hilton."

"Don't think I met him," the hare replied, staring off at the distance. Wispy clouds were drifting in front of the low-lying sun, becoming brilliantly backlit. And you could hear the night-things emerging. Crickets, cicadas, frogs. She almost forgot it was all an illusion.

"We've been together for a few years. Enough to get on each other's nerves. Have two kits back home. They're staying with their grandparents 'til we return. We needed the break." A weary grin. "Two boys, you know? I really want a girl, but I'm afraid to roll the dice on a third attempt ... and get stuck with another male." She laughed as she said it, though. And Sheila wondered about how old she was. "What about you?"

"Me?" the silver hare echoed. "I've been in space most of my adult life," she said, simply. Even if she'd wanted to, which she didn't, furs tended to avoid starting families in space. Because of the dangers and difficulties of the location. That didn't stop everyone, though. Field and Adelaide, that mouse and bat who'd rescued her from the wasps? Back on Luminous? They'd gotten pregnant. Willingly. They must've been insane. Or very deeply in love. Was there a difference?

"So, you've never wanted to settle down anywhere? With anyone?"

"No."

"That was awfully quick."

"Well ... " The silver hare hesitated a moment. She thought of Pyro. And, now, Barrow. "I've never been genetically-compatible with my partners. So, it doesn't matter anyway." I'd be the mother from hell. Pretty sure. Wouldn't I? And Barrow as a father? She changed the subject before she started laughing out loud. "So, where are you from, again?"

"A colony. Few light years from here, just outside the Denorius Belt."

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that area." Her time on Pyro's ship had been on the other side of Syndicate territory.

"A place for 'free thinkers.' Artists. That's what my mate does. He's a sculptor," she bragged. "All those statues you usually find in front of governmental buildings? He does things like that. Not just public art but private art, too." She was beginning to ramble, as if exited to have someone new to talk to. But, then, she'd been cooped up in that little shuttle for how many days? "Like you, we're only a few hours from the High Command border, though we're further down the line. On friendly terms with the snow rabbits. So, they let our citizens into their space ... with proper credentials, of course. We were vacationing on a tropical world. Beaches, oceans. Surprised that snow rabbits would settle on such a place! But they seem to have adapted to the heat. Somewhat, anyway."

Sheila nodded. Opening her mouth to excuse herself, to say she really ought to return to duty, but the skunk talked right on over her.

"Hilton and I, we were on this ... heh, well this beach, see? On this gorgeous cove. And I do mean gorgeous. It was completely isolated from the rest of the mainland, so there's no one in sight. You can be 'in the fur' all the time. It felt great. After a swim, and, oh, my, was the water salty. Or maybe it's just been a while since I've been in an actual ocean. But we laid on the sand, and he ... oh, goodness, it makes my nipples hard to remember. I can say that right? Well, you have nipples, too. Not like it's a secret what happens to them when we get aroused! And, oh, he aroused me. I said he was a sculptor, remember? Well, he has the paws to prove it. They were all over me. It was sunset, and the sky was as colorful as I've seen, and he rolled me right onto my .... "

Sheila rolled her shoulders uncomfortably. Great. Now, I'm gonna be late returning to my shift. This is what I get for making small talk.

Cedric looked down, eyes glazed, a paw on the back Seldovia's pretty head. Right in the middle of her white stripe. Between those little, fuzzy ears, easing her forward every time she pulled back. "Oh-h ... yeah ... " Maybe it was the psychological thrill of who, exactly, he was doing this with. Maybe she was just that good. But he'd never been so erect in his life. "Oh." He began tremble. "Princess," he begged, moving his paws to her cheeks. He gently eased her off his cock, which sprung upward, wet and throbbing with blood. "Not yet. Not in your muzzle," he murred, deeply.

She looked up at him, clearly high. So relaxed and mellow. So into him.

"Mm-h," he grunted, hotly. There was a light hiss. His tail began to undulate.

She, on her knees, did the same. Tail fluttering.

He took deep breaths, tongue peeking out. "Oh, yeah ... " His pupils dilated. His infatuation with her becoming an obsession. Her fur, her face. Those cute whiskers. That cuter ass. She was irresistible. "When's ... " Panting, feeling light and airy, like he could drift away on a sea of sensuality, he lifted her chin with a paw. "When's the last time you did this ... "

"Years ... day I left home ... "

"S'good, isn't it," he slurred, not even bothering to make it a question.

"Mm-hmm."

"Get on your fours," he breathed, impulsively. It was the most un-regal position he could think of. Which, somehow, only made it hotter.

She obeyed, his pheromones clouding her brain, tickling her nose. Some skunks had a sweet scent. Others had spicy. He was on the spicy end of the spectrum, much like her. They were so compatible.

"Raise your tail, Princess."

Her big, fluffy stripe-tail drifted upward, revealing her jet-black ass.

"My goodness." What a view. What a beauty. He exhaled, sharply, getting on his shins and knees behind her. Fondling her hips. Then her rump. Feeling down between the cheeks. She chirped as her tail-star was touched. "I've never so much as touched royalty before today. Now, I get to be inside of it ... heh." He smiled, too high to be nervous. Rubbing up and down her spine with one paw, the other pulled back to wrap around his cock. He stroked it a few times before lowering his hips and angling it square with her pussy. "I almost wish you were in heat," he murred.

"Me, too," she said, unable to control herself.

"I wanna make kits with you." He pushed his tapered tip into her vagina. "New heirs for a new monarchy ... "

"Cedric," she moaned, desperately.

"Oh, Princess," he sighed, sliding the rest of his cock inside her. A smooth, slow hilt. He sighed, closing his eyes and grinning. And then began to search for a rhythm.

Seldovia whimpered, cheek suddenly pressed flat on a pillow. Or just the sheets? Her eyes were closed. She was drooling, whining, Cedric's rich, fluffy chest sliding up and down her back, now. He must've been fifty pounds heavier. After a slow, seductive start, he took to pounding her pink pussy furiously. She was incredibly wet. You could hear it. The force of his slick, steady humps made her body shake. His cock wasn't as long as Seward's. But it was thicker. She felt everything, absolutely everything. And it was amazing.

"Mm-f ... mm, my Queen ... " God, she felt good. Smoother than silk. Nice and snug, hotter than hell. He eventually reached under and beneath, fingers fumbling at her clitoris. Judging by her reaction, she really liked that. So, he gave up and used his entire paw. Rubbing it furiously.

"Y-yes ... oh-h, my ... "

"You are beautiful, perfect. Beyond my dreams."

"D-don't stop ... "

"I won't, my Queen. I live to serve you. To breed you," he huffed, hotly.

"Oh-h, yes ... yes ... " Her walls began to flutter, pleasure surging to her extremities. Gasping. In orgasm. "Yes!"

Seconds later, his penis was pulsing, rhythmically, his white seed flooding her womb. So much of it that the excess began to trickle out, sticking to his sac-fur. Staining the bed-sheets. "Uh-h. Uh ... " He grunted, loudly. "Oh ... "

She furled her tail around his neck and shoulders.

The bigger, older male hugged her from behind, paws straying to her large, hanging breasts. He cupped them supportively. Kneaded them. Then let them go, kissing and nuzzling her nape. "My Queen."

She didn't know what to say. Still finding her breath. Fogged up, still. But feeling incredibly good. Almost as good as she felt with ... wait, Seward? Her heart skipped a beat. Oh, no. Seward! She suddenly felt like she'd been punched in the gut.

How am I going to tell him?

How is he going to react?

What have I just done?

Petra, wandering the Promenade, found the mouse on the second level. On the floor beneath one of the tall, oblong windows. The view of the star-scape was humbling, as always. "Eating alone, mousey?"

Herkimer looked up, big ears swiveling to attention. He hadn't heard her. He'd been lost in thought. "Just, uh, having a snack. The skunks ate so much at lunch, I didn't ... I never got a full plate."

"They're certainly taking advantage of our hospitality," the rat agreed. So far, so good, though. They hadn't caused any problems.

"Everyone's busy right now." He lowered his head. Even Barrow, who usually made time for him. Though he'd found a free moment to tell him a cheesy joke over the comm. "I mean, I'm busy, too, but ... "

"I hear ya. It's not always bad to be alone, though." A pause. "But I get the sense you'd rather have company ... "

The mouse twitched, nibbling on a celery stick.

"Not a very hearty snack," the rat noted as she sat beside him.

"I had a cup of soup, too. And some ... some bread ... " He began to sniffle.

"Hey. C'mere," Petra said, softly. She was mated to a mouse, herself. Granted, Peregrine was rather atypical for his species, but he was still a mouse. And, so, she felt a fondness for Herkimer. He was so darn likable. "No need to cry."

"I'm not." He collected himself, quickly. He leaned his head on the brown-furred rat's shoulder. "I think about her all the time. Even when I want to stop, I can't. I miss how she looks and smells. And feels." He closed his eyes. "Does that make me weak?"

"Course not. Long-distance is hard," Petra said, matter-of-factly. "Especially when it's 'closed.' You just haven't had time to plateau. It'll be different when you've been together for a while."

"How?" he asked. Talkeetna was only his second relationship. The first, with Advent, had gone down in flames fairly quickly.

"Well, you'll just ... " She sighed. "It's hard to explain. You start to level off a bit once you become familiar with each other. You get a little more satisfied. Gives you patience."

The mouse shook his head, finishing his celery. He chewed, swallowed, and squeaked. "I don't know ... "

"But if it's any consolation, she's thinking about you just as much," Petra said, of the red squirrel. "I guarantee it."

"I wish I could talk to her. It would be so much easier."

"When they get closer to the station. They're in Syndicate territory right now. They can't risk inciting their curiosity."

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Tried the holo-suite?" she wondered.

"Every night," he admitted, after a pause. "It's just ... I feel so embarrassed using it."

"Why? Feels okay." Better than your paw. She used it, herself. Probably later in the night than he did, cause she'd never bumped into him. A smirk. "And the holo-grid is self-cleaning."

"It makes me feel silly," he mumbled, bashfully.

"Still." She ribbed his side, gently. "Mousey, I'm gonna level with ya."

He looked up, innocently.

"No one wants to see you sad. As your first officer, I don't wanna hafta order you cheer up, but ... " The rat leaned in, whispering confidentially, "We need your mousey cuteness to keep crew morale up! That means whiskers bright an' tail full o' wavers. It means dimples," she said, touching his grey-furred cheek with her nose, "and scurry in your step."

Herkimer couldn't help but smile. "It doesn't ... "

She nodded, sagely. "'Fraid so."

"Stop it."

Petra pulled back. "Stop what?"

"Making me feel better."

The rat chuckled, her thicker, rougher flesh-tail swerving over his thinner, more delicate one.

"Thanks, though ... "

"Out in the UT, us rodents stick together."

Herkimer beamed, now.

"There ya go!"

"Mm. So, uh, are the commander and ambassador doing okay?" Herkimer asked after a moment, sipping from a canteen of cider. And then handing it to her.

"I'm sure they're doin' swimmingly," Petra assured, taking a sip and nodding in approval. Then handing it back. "Just hope they're usin' an injection. Don't need baby snow rabbits hoppin' round." She didn't know what baby rabbits were called. Pups? Kits?

"I'm sure they are. They're the most responsible furs on the station." Sorta acted like the crew's 'mom' and 'dad,' sometimes. Which was kinda funny.

"Our guests happy with their accommodations?"

"I haven't heard any complaints," the mouse answered, no longer moping. "They seemed impressed, actually. Wondered why we didn't have businesses open on the Promenade. They wanted souvenirs. I told them we needed a bit more traffic and stuff."

"I figure the floodgates are gonna open here real soon. In another month, maybe two? Think we'll be bustling."

"The High Command's gonna have to send Arctic in to the UT to re-supply us if that's the case." The mouse bit his lip. "Haven't heard from Arctic in a while."

"They left a message last night. I'd imagine, with the wasp war over, trade between UT merchants and the snow rabbit border worlds is steadily increasing. So, Captain Aria's patrol route is requiring more attention." And that same trade was going to increase Redwing's traffic, as well. It was all connected.

Herkimer took a deep breath, nodding. He wriggled to his bare paw-feet, stretching and twisting left and right. "Mm-h! Well, I should return to duty. Thanks for the, uh, chat."

"Welcome. Carry on, Lieutenant," she said, standing up herself.

The mouse scurried off and the rat chuckled, heading back to Ops and wondering, lightly, if she'd missed her true calling as a counselor.

Leaving the lift and turning a corner, Cedric padded down the carpeted hallway, a light, relaxed cadence to his step. He shook his head in disbelief, unable to stop smiling. No, not smiling. Grinning. To think he'd wound up on this station by pure chance, and she'd happened to be here. Princess Seldovia? It was all too much. He didn't believe in God or fate, but damn, what a day!

If his shuttle hadn't been schedule to depart tomorrow, he would've attempted to spend more time with the princess. But he'd already take up enough of her time. Any longer and other furs would begin to notice. She'd begged, in fact, that their fling remain private, and he'd agreed that was best. The other skunks would get insanely jealous. And the Redwing crew would become over-protective, perhaps. They seemed like a close-knit bunch.

Once the pheromones had worn off, she'd gotten nervous. Jittery. She wouldn't admit to why. He suspected he'd made such an impression on her that, well ... she was feeling quite conflicted, emotionally. He smirked to himself. Not the first time I've had that effect on a female! He was, for all intents and purposes, an 'open breeder.' But, oh, he'd seriously give that up to claim the long-lost princess as his own. What an honor that would be!

But that was a pipe dream. If she accompanied him to the royalist colony as his mate, skunks would, again, get jealous. Suspicious. They would fight over her. Everyone wanting a piece of her. How to use her, her legitimacy, what her role should be. Things were different, now. The politics of the UT were ever shifting. And the cloud of Syndicate was flying near. I feel like furs used to be more trusting ...

He sighed.

No matter. At least I have today to remember. And, oh, I definitely will.

He just hoped that the passengers on his shuttle wouldn't get wise to the hours he'd spent 'touring the station' with her. They saw me leave the luncheon with her. I'm pretty sure ...

Finally reaching his guest quarters, Cedric blinked, stopping with a start, jarred from his revelries and worries. He wasn't alone. There, blocking his way, in the shadows in front of the closed doorway, was a feline! An inch or so taller than him. Solidly built, tawny, golden, covered in intricate, beautiful black spots. And giving off a rather menacing air.

"Hello," she greeted, huskily.

"Who are you?" the skunk demanded. It the only thing he could think of to say.

"Advent. You?" she immediately countered, emerging from the shadows. Into the pale white/blue 'evening' lighting of the corridor.

He squinted, suspiciously. She wasn't as attractive as Seldovia. But, then, few furs were. She was pretty enough, though. More than that, she had a primal, electric appeal. An aura. Slightly dangerous. But that only added to her intrigue. "Cedric," he answered slowly.

"Very formal name."

"I come from a good family." Which explained his 'royalist' leanings. Coming from the upper class, which the monarchy had been quite friendly to.

"I'm sure you do," the jaguar said, dismissively.

"I didn't see you with the rest of the crew. You weren't at the luncheon."

"I'm the black sheep. Or is it black cat?" she posed. "But I assure you, I'm part and parcel with this ... " She looked around, shaking her head. " ... endeavor." She smoothed at her uniform, adjusting her comm badge for show.

"Makes sense," he replied. She wouldn't be wearing a uniform if she wasn't part of the crew, right? And as the only predator, it figured she might not be fully welcomed by the others. He felt a bit sorry for her as this occurred to him. But, still, "You're blocking the way to my guest quarters."

"How rude of me," she deadpanned, not moving an inch. Aside from that tail. Incredibly fluffy, swaying in a sinewy, purposeful way. "Tell me ... "

"Tell you what?" the skunk replied, impatiently.

"Seldovia a good lay?"

He blinked, not expecting that. "Beg your pardon?"

"You heard me."

"Why would you ask me such a thing?" he grilled.

"It must've been good. You wouldn't have been so loud if it wasn't. But, then, some furs are just plain noisy when they screw, no matter how good it is. I've known a few like that. Ever fuck a mouse?"

Cedric swallowed, feeling hot.

"If you must know, I overheard a 'commotion' while performing routine maintenance in the lower habitat ring. Stupid odd jobs. Imagine my surprise, though ... you obviously didn't shower afterward." She sniffed the air. "The scent is obvious."

"We showered," Cedric huffed, squirming in place, unwittingly giving her verbal confirmation of his actions.

"Oh? Perhaps you need another ... "

No response.

"We have something in common, you and me," Advent continued with a purr.

"Yeah?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"We're hunters."

"I'm not a predator," Cedric insisted.

"You're definitely not prey. Skunks are one of those ... limbo species," she said, waving a paw. "Teetering between worlds. Just need a shove to get you on the right side." She licked her fangs. "Nonetheless, you misunderstand my point. I don't mean you hunt for blood. You hunt for the ladies. Don't deny it. I know your type."

"There's nothing wrong with open-breeding," the skunk said, slowly.

"Of course not. I'm the same way." She opened her arms. "Only, myself, I hunt for the guys ... " She then ran her paws along her hips, then back up to her breasts. Giving him a purring, golden-eyed look.

"Am I, uh, going to be able to enter my quarters?" he asked, following those paws. Getting a little flustered.

"And what a catch you got, today, huh? Royalty? Now you can tell your friends ... hell, even total strangers," Advent continued, goading him, manipulating him into the reaction she sought, "that you slept with a famous long-lost princess. Quite a feather in your cap!"

"Princess Seldovia's reputation is not to be sullied." Cedric's striped tail cocked, fluttering dangerously. "I may have emptied one scent gland, but the other is full," he warned.

She slunk closer to him, showing no fear. And that only aroused him more. "So, how'd she feel?" Advent whispered.

"Feel?"

"Seldovia, silly."

He skipped a beat before whispering back, before he could stop himself, "Good. Very good." He licked his lips.

"We need to introduce you to some more colorful adjectives," she purred. "Or maybe you just need to feel something better ... "

"Than the princess? Ha! Yeah ... " There was no way that possible. Was it?

"Ever had a jaguar before?"

He swallowed. "Well. No ... "

"Really?" Her eyes widened in mock-surprise. "A 'hunter' like you?"

"I'm not a hunter," he repeated, beginning to get worn down by her persistence. His adrenaline wasn't spiking high enough to give her the 'bad' spray. Truth be told, he was kind of aroused. He wasn't sure what to do.

"Whatever." The feline sauntered closer to him, claws unsheathing. She drug them down the front of his uniform. Or maybe it was casual attire? She'd never been good with fashion. "Never been with a wild jungle cat? Then you haven't lived. Not until ... well, no, I shouldn't detail that. It's far too intimate," she cooed, leaning in to lap and lick at his cheek-fur. "Far too pleasurable."

Cedric just swallowed. His throat was dry.

"That cock of yours recovered yet?" she whispered into his ear.

"Depends," he panted.

"Would it help to know that my pussy is soaking wet?" she replied, sucking on his jaw.

"Ah-h ... um, uh ... "

"Thought so." She purred against his lips. "So, how long does it take for your 'good' scent glad to refill?"

"I've enough ... enough for you to feel it ... "

She twirled a claw on his nape. Her hot, moist breath on his cheek again. "How 'bout I come into your quarters with you? Help you take another shower?"

He could only nod, excitedly.

"And maybe you can tell me all you know about Princess Seldovia." She purred, sinking her claws into her prey. "I've always been interested in royalty ... "

It was nighttime, station-side.

Seldovia sat on the couch, head down. Body wrapped in a towel from breasts to hips. Her pelt was still damp. She'd taken a extra-long shower to wash all the scent away. And then waited. And waited. Seward got off duty the same time as her, but ... he still wasn't back. Why's he staying away? Her breaths were deep and nervous. And, then, the doors to their quarters slid open.

Seward paused awkwardly in the open doorway, bobtail tensing. Ears straight up. He didn't need to ask.

And she didn't need to tell. She just looked up, reaching out her arms for him, pleadingly. Don't reject me. Please, don't ...

He padded forward, slowly, the doors closing behind him, and put down his toolkit before moving to sit beside her. Wrapping her in a hug. Tight and tender. "It's alright," he breathed.

"It's not."

"Yes, it is."

She shook her head.

He loosened her towel so that he could cup the breast above her heart. "It is," he repeated.

"I could've ... should've," she whispered, "left before he was aroused enough to spray me. But I didn't." She couldn't look him in the eyes. She'd been crying and didn't want him to notice. "I was flattered, and it'd been so long since I'd felt 'high' like that, and ... " She shook her head again, trailing off. The thing that made her feel the worst was how much she'd truly enjoyed it. It'd been good. And Cedric was a lovely fur. Charming, handsome, genial. If he'd been a louse, maybe this would be easier. Maybe. "I just wanted to relive my 'glory days,' I guess. Bring back something that no longer exists. My position. My power over others. Part of me still craves it, but ... inside, deep inside, I'm not that skunk anymore. I just hope that learning that lesson didn't involve losing you." Her voice broke. "I'm so sorry, Seward."

He leaned in to touch his forehead to her cheek, whispering, "I have made mistakes before, myself. Succumbed to desires and passions. No fur is perfect." In other words, "I understand. And I need you too much to lose you. I just plead that it does not happen again, because ... " He couldn't finish the sentence.

"It won't. I promise. I'd rather be your princess than someone else's queen."

He closed his eyes and pushed his nose into her neck-fur. Then rose up for a tender kiss. "And I your prince."

Her arms went around his neck, having never felt more relief in her life.

Light years away, in Syndicate territory.

The mouse trembled, unable to control his body. He'd lost a lot over the past several days. Ranging from pounds to sanity. The cell they had him in was sterile, and the energy-buzz of the force field seemed to be attuned to a pitch designed to hurt his mousey ears. Swallowing, he tried to curl himself into a ball, wishing this would end. Hoping it was a dream. "I d-didn't do anything ... I swear," he rasped. So thirsty. Why won't they give me anything to drink? "I'm just a chef. I just ... made them a meal. They talked. I only heard a little bit, and then they left." His eyes began to water. "I told you."

There was no response.

And then the mouse realized: she's not here yet. You're the only one in the cell. Oh, my god. She's been in my head so often, for so long, that I can no longer tell when she's left.

A chuckle from the other side of the force field. "That just means you're never truly alone, cutie. I'm always with you!" The force field was lowered, and she stepped in. "Good morning, by the way!" she added in a cheery voice. Her fur was a bright, tasty pink. Her wing-arm membranes almost luminous. "And how are we today? Heh ... a bit worse off from yesterday, aren't we? Aw." She prodded at him with a bare foot-paw.

He squeaked and trembled, tail flailing. "Please!"

"What's wrong, dear?" Her voice was saccharine enough for him to choke on, even though he liked sweets. He used to like sweets. She'd soured them for him. And because her fur was the color of cotton candy, he couldn't stop thinking about them. And couldn't stop feeling sick. "Oh, don't dislike sweet things on my account!" she said, leaning over him with a smile. That smile was so bright and cruel and ... no, don't. Don't give her any more ammo. "Oh, sweetie," she said, voice descending into pity. She dropped to her knees. A wing-arm reached out and stroked his cheek gently. "You don't need to hide anything from me!" A slight giggle. "Well, you can't. Not anymore. Now ... I just need you to confirm something for me, okay?" The tone was gentle, cajoling. She was boring into the center of his mind, now. Like a drill. "Tell me again what they said about Redwing Station ... "

"No! No, it ... get out ... "

"Oh, come, now. It doesn't hurt," she insisted as she forcibly threw his memories around, twisting his emotions, clouding his identity. "Not if you don't struggle ... "

Fifteen minutes later, the mouse was unconscious. Twitching. Chest rising and falling rapidly.

And the pink-furred bat was stroking his face.

Emerging from the shadows, another figure, a bat also, but this one blue, shook his head at his female compatriot. "I swear, Janna, you take it too far sometimes."

Janna stood up from her crouch and narrowed his eyes at the male, and he felt a mental slap that stung far worse than any physical one would. "Mind your tongue, Marcus. Need I remind you who's in charge here?"

Marcus rubbed his cheek. "Yes, well ... they did send me to keep an eye on you. So, what did you find?"

She sent him a mental missive of all the knowledge she was able to draw from the mouse. "Enough new information to make the interrogation worthwhile."

He blinked, receiving the 'mind drop.' An approving nod. "This will expand our picture of what's going on in the Redwing system."

"You're welcome." Stretching, she leaned over and patted the mouse's brown-furred paw. "Isn't that right, cutie!" He was slack-jawed, buckteeth jutting out, blood pressure at dangerous levels. "We should probably get out of here before he wakes up. I've implanted false memories in his head."

Marcus was surprised that she hadn't just killed him. "Do I want to know?"

She just chuckled darkly, brushing past him and out of the cheap hotel room. Back inside, in the bathroom, behind a translucent shower curtain, was the naked mouse. Sprawled in the tub. "Come," Janna said to the other bat, impatiently. "We have a shuttle to catch."