Adrift
The following is a work of fiction copyright Radical Gopher. This story may not be reprinted without the author's express permission. This story contains adult situations and may not be viewed by anyone under the age of 18.
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ADRIFT
Krystalla had expected the trip out from Earth to be interesting, yet routine. She'd always liked space travel, and the opportunity to cover a breaking news story at Rigel Station was more than incentive enough to for her to pack her bags and ship out on the old Alliance-class cruiser provide by Fleet Command.
Conditions on the old ship were a bit cramped. There were at least a dozen media reporters and their recorder crews ensconced in the unused Marine officer quarters amidships. Simple arithmetic, combined with shipboard water conservation rules allowed each of them to shower once every other day. Thus it was that the raccoon-morph was in the middle of her shower cycle when the alarm claxon first sounded.
At first, Krystalla thought it was another surprise drill. The ship's captain seemed to be fond of them and had conducted five in the last three days. This impression was quickly smashed to pieces when the power and artificial gravity cutout and the emergency battle-lamps snapped on.
Krystalla abruptly found herself floating in the shower surrounded by thousands of spherical water droplets. The stream of water pushed her until she bumped against the wall of the cubical. There was a sudden tremor that raced through the ship, moving from aft to forward. The water flow stopped.
Remembering her micro-gravity orientation course, Krystalla cautiously pushed off from the shower and grabbed her bathrobe. She quickly wrapped the knee-length blue terrycloth garment around herself and manually opened the door. Angry curses and yowls of fear greeted her as she drifted into the darkened passageway. A hand grabbed at her robe and spun her to the left. It was Tech2/C Russo, the ship's crewman assigned to assist her and the other media types while onboard.
"What's going on?" she asked as another shudder ran through the ship.
"I don't know ma'am," the human replied, "but it would be best if you made you way to your evacuation station until we can sort things out."
"Alright! Just let me get..."
"No time, ma'am. You do remember the way from here... Don't you?"
Krystalla nodded.
"Good," Russo replied. "I'll gather your friends and meet you there. Now GO!" With a firm push he propelled her down the passageway in the direction of the ship's lifeboats.
Breathing deeply, Krystalla fought to suppress the fear slowly rising within her. Grabbing at strategically placed handholds, she carefully made her way down the passageway to the first T-intersection. She passed several crewmembers working their way towards emergency stations. They all seemed too pre-occupied to bother with the journalist.
Krystalla turned left at the intersection and passed through a bulkhead door that was still open. Turning right, she suddenly found herself confronted with a solid mass of gray-white smoke. The ship shuddered once more. This time the sound of a sharp, echoing bang could be heard from aft. Krystalla knew the lifeboats were about thirty meters ahead and down one deck.
Taking a deep breath, she plunged head first into the cloud, counting the ship's frames as she pulled herself along. She could only see about a meter ahead. She did some rapid calculations in her head. Thirty meters; with each frame approximately half a meter apart. If she counted wrong, she'd miss the hatch leading down to the next deck and likely suffocate in the ever-thickening smoke. Fortune however was with her. She found the hatch. She also spotted an unconscious cheetah-morph drifting silently above the hatch. Small droplets of blood floated outward from a gash in his forehead. Krystalla guessed he must have cracked his head against something when the gravity had cut out. The injury itself was not fatal, but the smoke would surely asphyxiate him if she didn't help.
Krystalla manually opened the hatch, then hooked an arm around the crewman's waist and dragged him after her. This deck too was filled with smoke, though it wasn't nearly as thick. The exertion was rapidly burning up what air remained in her lungs. Spotting an access hatch, the raccoon pushed off from the bulkhead, towing the cheetah behind her. She reached up and punched in the access code she and the others had been given for use in emergencies. She hoped her colleagues had, like her, taken the time to memorize it
The hatch slid open. A slight pressure difference between the passageway and the lifeboat caused her and the cheetah to be sucked through it and into the boat. The boat's automated systems were activated by the presence of the two furs. Sensors detected the smoke seeping into the craft and immediately shut the access hatch.
Krystalla quickly looked around. The lifeboat, which could double as an ALC or Assault Landing Craft, was divided into three sections; a flight deck, a main compartment and an engineering deck. The large main cabin held seats for either thirty fully armed marines, or fifty unarmed passengers. Utility was something the Navy prided itself on.
Strapping the cheetah into one of the passenger seats, Krystalla quickly searched out a medical kit and began treating the cut over his eye. Any moment she expected to hear the hatch open and Russo give her the all clear, though somewhere in the back of her mind she doubted it would be quite that simple. It wasn't.
The interior of the lifeboat suddenly shifted and the hull rang as if it were being pelted with a dozen jackhammers. A series of rumbling explosions sent shudders through the boat and through Krystalla. The interior lighting dimmed and a flashing red light filled the cabin. An automated voice cut through the distant rumbling of the cruiser.
"ALL HANDS BRACE FOR ACCELERATION. EMERGENCY LAUNCH PROTOCOLS ACTIVATED!"
"What the hell..." Krystalla never finished the thought as she was abruptly thrown across the compartment. She scrambled madly, snagging an acceleration harness with one hand. She barely kept herself from slamming tail first into the aft bulkhead of the boat. The full power acceleration lasted for about one hundred seconds, during which time the raccoon found herself being bounced against the outer bulkhead.
The drive abruptly cut-off, leaving Krystalla feeling both battered and bruised. Slowly pulling herself up towards the flight deck she settled into one of the pilot couches and began scanning the instruments in front of her. Ninety percent of what she saw made no sense, though she was able to figure out that the lifeboat was moving away from the expanding cloud of gas that once had been a Navy cruiser.
"Computer... Status report!"
"Request identity and access authorization," came the electronic voice.
"Breslau, Krystalla R., civilian passenger, access code CP-044R7."
"Acknowledged... Be advised, user code authorizes access to information management and supplies storage systems. Additional code input necessary for flight and engineering control system access."
"Great," the raccoon muttered to herself. "Computer... What happened to the ship?"
"Partial data dump indicates an uncontrolled fire in engineering triggered a cascade failure of primary reactor core's safety systems. Subsequent reactor overload and explosion has destroyed the ship."
Krystalla swallowed heavily as she thought of all those onboard the cruiser. "Did any other lifeboats escape the explosion?"
"Affirmative. Emergency launch protocols enabled five lifeboats to disengage from ship prior to explosion."
"How many crew survived?"
"Telemetry indicates a total of forty-one personnel currently occupy the lifeboats now in use," the computer replied.
"Can you alter course to rendezvous with the other lifeboats?"
"Negative."
"Why not?"
"Emergency operation protocols are now in effect."
"Stupid computer! What the hell does that mean?" Krystalla yelled.
"It means," said a voice behind her, "that the auto pilots of each boat will head in a different direction. That maximizes the chances at least one boat will be found. The positions of the others can then be extrapolated from each boat's LKP."
Krystalla turned around and looked at the cheetah who was sitting, one hand holding his head. "LKP?" she asked.
"Last Known Position," the crewmember replied. He winced and closed his eyes for a moment, then looked at Krystalla. "Last thing I remember is trying to get to my emergency station and colliding headfirst with a bulkhead. What happened?"
"I found you floating unconscious one deck above the lifeboats. The passageway was full of smoke, so I dragged you in here... then everything went to hell."
The cheetah sat quietly for a moment or two looking at the raccoon before finally speaking. "Thank-you," he said quietly. He turned toward one of the boat's view ports and searched out the remains of the ship. Unfortunately, they were moving so fast and had traveled so far that nothing of the ship could be seen against the blackness of space.
Something in his tone and body language told Krystalla that while the sentiment was sincere, it was not as heart-felt as it could have been. "So what happens now?"
The cheetah looked at her blankly. "Now?" he asked.
"How long before we can expect a rescue?"
"I don't know," the crewmember replied. "It depends on several things. Whether or not an emergency signal was sent; how far it has to travel; how long it will take fleet headquarters to realize we're overdue on our flight plan... Literally, it could be days, weeks... even months before we're picked up."
"Months?" Krystalla repeated. The first pangs of fear danced across her mind. "Can we survive that long?"
"Yes... The boat carries enough food concentrates to feed fifty occupants for a minimum of two weeks. The same is true of the boat's environmental system and water supply. Figuring on just the two of us, we shouldn't have to start worrying for at least a year."
The raccoon went silent and sat looking blankly at the boat's control panel. Months she thought... possibly even a year... if ever. Her senses started reeling at the thought. Despite the fact she was not, by nature, claustrophobic, a sense of being trapped, of being confined for perhaps the rest of her life overwhelmed her and she folded in on herself. Her eyes misted, blurring the image of the control panel before her. Her heart pounded in her chest, skipping a beat or two for every dozen she counted. Her breathing became ragged and she began to shiver uncontrollably. The world around her faded to gray, and then black.
When she next opened her eyes she was lying stretched out across several seats. A thermal blanket had been carefully tucked around her and a cold compress rested against her forehead. Soft, comforting music filled the compartment making the world seem that much more gentle and forgiving. The panic she had felt had faded completely. Pausing, she looked around the boat's cabin. The cheetah sat across from her. His head was tilted back against the seat cushion and he was fast asleep.
Krystalla took a long, clear look at her traveling companion. He was dressed in a simple pair of blue, maintenance coveralls, pretty much a standard uniform for ship's engineering personnel. He appeared lithe and well toned. His fur was pretty much standard for his species; a mix of yellow-gold and white dappled with brown spots throughout. His breathing was deep and regular.
The raccoon's stomach growled nosily. Rising softly, she pushed aside the blanket, straightened her bathrobe and drifted over to a small alcove just behind the flight deck. There she found a small food preparation unit. She filled two zero-gee survival cups with water then heated it with the small microwave oven. Digging into a drawer under the first passenger seat, she pulled out a couple of individual packets of instant coffee and emptied the contents into the cups. The aroma of fresh coffee filled the compartment.
The cheetah's nose twitched slightly and his emerald-green eyes flickered open. Krystalla handed him one of the cups. He took it, thanking her then glanced at the boat's chronometer. "Gods! Have I really been asleep for twelve hours?"
"I wouldn't know," the raccoon replied. "I just woke up myself." She took a small sip of coffee. Aside from a slightly stale, reconstituted flavor it wasn't that bad. She silently thanked whoever had made the decision that coffee was an essential survival tool. She held out her hand. "Krystalla Breslau."
The cheetah took her hand firmly in his. "Chief Technician Andre North, C.S. Vincennes." He looked up at his fellow passenger and smiled weakly. "I guess we're going to be traveling companions for a while."
"Looks that way," she responded. She paused for a moment. "I guess I kind of panicked for a while there. I've never really been in a situation like this before."
"It's understandable," Andre replied. "In training they taught us that shock affects people differently. You hyperventilated and passed out. Me... Well, shortly after you passed out I suddenly got very tired and slept. Some of the guys I know would have gotten themselves stinking drunk. Not much chance of that here," he chuckled, sipping on his coffee.
"I guess not, unless there's something in the medical locker." Krystalla stared out through one of the view ports, watching the stars. "It's so... empty," she muttered, turning away. "How can they ever find us?"
"The Navy has a long-standing tradition of going out of their way to rescue stranded spacers. They know the Vincennes' flight path and it's ETA. When we don't arrive they'll send out several ships to search."
But there's nothing for them to find. The wreckage will drift in a thousand directions," Krystalla observed.
"Well, unless we were off course, their sensors should be able to locate a huge energy surge where the ship blew. From there, it's just a matter of listening for the disaster beacons on each lifeboat and tracking them down."
"But how long do you think it will take?"
Andre shrugged. "If I were to guess... two, maybe three weeks at most." He looked over at the raccoon. The robe she wore revealed as much as it concealed. Being a professional media reporter, she had made a concerted effort to keep herself fit and trim. He guessed she stood about 1.7 meters and weighed maybe 50 kilos at most. Her fur, though somewhat unkempt from the interrupted shower, was nicely curried.
Like most of her species it varied in shade from light to dark gray. Black fur covered both her feet from toe to calf and her hands from fingertip to mid-forearm. Her ears were black tipped and her thick tail ringed with the same ebon shade. The only real difference was that her eyes looked more like a panda's than a normal raccoon's. Her hair would have hung halfway down her back in thick, red ringlets were it not for the absence of gravity. She was indeed a striking young woman.
"What?" asked Krystalla.
The cheetah suddenly realized he had been staring at her. He quickly turned his head away and coughed nervously. The inside of his ears were blushing. "I don't know about you," he said hastily, "but I'm more than a little hungry. Since you fixed the coffee, why don't you let me rustle up some chow?"
"Fair enough," she replied.
Like the coffee, the food kept on the lifeboat was intended to be highly nutritious and decidedly functional. Solid bricks of pre-packaged survival rations were all that was available to them, though they did come in a variety of artificial flavors. Heating them did improve their edibility, if not their texture small packets of freeze-dried ice cream rounded out the meal.
"That was better than some places I've eaten when on liberty," Andre smiled, popping the last piece of ice cream in his mouth.
Krystalla chuckled. "At least it has the virtue of being free. I'd hate to pay for something that... serviceable." She looked around the lifeboat's cabin. "I wonder if there anything around here to keep us entertained?"
A quick inspection turned up a couple of storage containers containing a variety of playing cards, board games, chess sets, computer books and miscellaneous other items. The lifeboat's computer data files also contained about a hundred different vids.
"Well, at least we won't be bored," Andre chuckled. He then spent the next several hours teaching the raccoon-girl how to play chess. After several hours they both finally turned in, sleeping on opposite sides of the lifeboat.
The next several weeks passed rather quickly. There wasn't much to do except to eat, sleep, watch films, and play games, or talk, which they did a lot. There was a small sanitation unit on the lifeboat to take care of basic biological needs and keep themselves reasonably clean. Showers of course were replaced by a supply of pre-packaged towelettes.
Despite searching high and low throughout the lifeboat, Krystalla was unable to find anything to wear other than her bathrobe, which she kept closed with several safety pins from the medical kit. Being around Andre made her acutely aware of her lack of clothing, so she was careful how she sat whenever they were together. She did occasionally use a couple of blankets as a makeshift toga whenever she had to air out her robe, but they were rather thin and more than a little revealing.
For his part, the cheetah tried to politely ignore her lack of clothing, averting his eyes when necessary and not addressing the subject. His coveralls were easy enough to keep aired out, being made of a special fiber that repelled dirt and odors effortlessly.
After about the twenty-first day, the raccoon decided that long hair and micro gravity were mutually incompatible. Not only was it difficult to keep it in any decent hairstyle, but strands of it were constantly and painfully getting caught in various pieces of gear around the lifeboat. With Andre's help, she had it cut into a very short butch style. When she finished, she took one look at herself in the sanitation unit mirror then cried for the next several hours.
Both furs spent time on the flight deck monitoring the boat's comm system, hoping to pick-up some indication that rescue was imminent. As the days began stretching into the fourth, and then fifth week, they began to feel concerned. Krystalla especially became more than a little agitated by their lack of rescue. By the start of the sixth week her anxiety blossomed exponentially. The cheetah tried his best to distract her and keep her calm.
"There are a number of possible reasons we haven't been picked up yet," Andre said as they munched on yet another meal of survival bars. "First, the Navy may have only limited resources in this sector of space. Second, we might have been farther from our destination than I thought. Even a difference of three or four days would add perhaps two weeks to the response time."
"What about the possibility of being off-course?" Krystalla asked. "You mentioned it the first day out."
"Unfortunately, I don't know. I was assigned to the Starboard Auxiliaries Division... Life support, emergency power... that sort of thing. I have no idea what was going on with the Navigation section."
"So you were just trying to humor me?" she snapped at him. The raccoon abruptly hung her head. "Sorry," she said softly. "I guess I'm just not feeling my best today."
" Would it help if you laid down for a while?"
"I am not sick... " she insisted forcefully. "I'm just feeling... well... a little out of sorts."
Andre reached over and held the back of his hand against her cheek ruff. "You feel a little warm."
Krystalla angrily pushed his hand away. "Don't touch me... I am NOT sick. Can't you get that through your stupid head?" She rose and drifted over to the sanitation unit and pulled the privacy screen across it. Sitting on the toilet seat, she grabbed a fresh towelette from the bin and gripped the corner of the packet. She tugged at the seal, but her hands began shaking, making it difficult to keep a firm grip on the cellophane wrapping.
She fumbled with it several times before finally hurling it away from herself in frustration. It bounced off the privacy screen and drifted back into her face. Snatching at it she finally ripped the packet opened with her teeth and began furiously scrubbing at herself, trying to ease the pins and needles sensation that had been washing across her.
Over the course of the next several days, Krystalla found it increasingly difficult to rest. Her mind refused to shut down, and when it did her dreams were filled with erotic images of herself with one, sometime two male partners. More than once she awakened in the middle of a sleep cycle to find her robe in disarray and her blanket stained with cum. Her mood swings became more and more erratic. It was at the beginning of the seventh week that things finally tumbled out of control.
The cheetah awoke during one sleep cycle to find Krystalla lying in her zero-gee hammock curled into a tight ball. She was whimpering softly in her sleep. Feeling more than a little concern, he drifted over to her and gently touched her shoulder. Her eyes flew open and she slapped him across the muzzle, claws out. Small droplets of blood drifted across the compartment. Horrified at what she had done, the raccoon threw herself across the cabin and took refuge behind the privacy screen of the sanitation unit. Sounds of weeping soon followed..
Andre, though shaken by the girl's reaction, calmly opened the lifeboat's medical kit and pressed some gauze against the scratches. The cuts were not deep, and they quickly stopped bleeding once treated with an antiseptic wipe. When he finished cleaning the cuts, he went over to the sanitation unit and softly knocked on the privacy screen.
"Go away... please," whimpered Krystalla.
"Alright," the cheetah responded. "But I just wanted to be sure you're okay and let you know I'm not angry... just concerned." He drifted over to the flight deck and took one of the pilot's couches. He leaned back and closed his eyes, then sniffed at the air several times. Though heavily subdued by the lifeboats air recycler he could just smell the subtle traces of a female in estrus.
About fifteen minutes later the raccoon came out of the sanitation unit and floated over to Andre. She silently reached out and examined the scratches she had inflicted. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know what came over me."
"Yes you do," the cheetah said softly. "I think we both know what's happening."
Krystalla sighed. "It's pretty obvious... isn't it? When we abandoned ship I left everything, including my suppressants in my cabin."
"What about the emergency stores?"
"I checked the medical kit, but there's nothing in it that would help, except perhaps some anesthetics; But I don't want to dope myself up for a week or more just to get through something this... silly."
"It's hitting you pretty hard, isn't it?" the cheetah said sympathetically.
She nodded. "This is the first cycle I've had in the last three years where I didn't have anything to help me."
"Does it hurt?"
"Everything but..." she replied. "I'm having hot flashes, mood swings, ants crawling on my skin... You name it." She smiled ruefully. "It's a good thing we're not a closely related species otherwise my scent would have you climbing the bulkheads by now."
Andre was silent for several long seconds as he looked over at Krystalla. "Look," he said, "I know we're different species and therefore not instinctively attracted to each other, but if you decide you want my help... " His ears blushed slightly. "Any help... with... well, you know. All you need to do is ask."
Krystalla smiled at his shy offer and gave him a small peck on the cheek. "Thank-you," she said. "I'll take that into consideration." She went back into the main cabin and tried to go back to sleep. She was successful for perhaps three hours, then the intense, erotic dreams return. Unlike the other dreams though, she kept seeing images of Andre as he gently made love to her. Her mind drifted into a second dream where she found herself locked in a cage in a room that seemed to stretch on to infinity. Despite her plaintive cries for help no one came. No one seemed to care.
She awoke and found the cabin air seemed unusually chilly, despite being covered by no less than three blankets. Krystalla was shivering and there was an ache of need that spread outward from between her legs. A wave of agonizing loneliness seemed to wash across her and she choked back a sob.
Looking around she spotted Andre asleep in his hammock. Biting her lower lip, she quietly slipped out of her own hammock and drifted over to the cheetah.
"Andre?" she whispered quietly
For a few moments there was no response, then he opened his eyes sleepily. "Huh? What..."
She quickly put a finger over his lips, leaned down and kissed him. A tremor of need and anticipation ran down her spine, ruffling the fur there. Breaking the kiss she looked down at him. "What you offered earlier... Do you think... I mean, would it be okay if... if I slept with you... please?"
Looking up at the raccoon Andre could see she was trembling. He undid the webbing and held it open so she could nestle in beside him. She easily slipped into his bed, then reached down and untied the sash around her bathrobe, allowing it to float open so their fur was brushing together. Andre wore no clothing so his sheath gently rubbed against the inside of her thigh. His penis began to slide out into the open air. Krystalla felt it as it danced across her belly, its barbs combing and parting the fur there.
The raccoon shuddered, moaning in anticipation. Her body was hot to the touch. She pressed her mound against the cheetah's rod, dampening it with her nectar. Unwilling and unable to wait any longer she reached down and gently guided him into her depths, savoring the fullness. She nibbled at his neck several times then kissed him full on the mouth. His mouth opened in response, allowing her tongue to twine with his. They brushed together as the two furs began exchanging breath.
Slowly she began grinding against Andre, pushing him deep into her passage, then squeezing him with her vaginal muscles and sliding up his length only to repeat the process. The barbs of his penis plucked and gently scratched at her passage, stimulating her in a way no male had ever done before. She could feel a rumbling purr start deep down in his chest. It carried through and seemed to echo within her body, exciting her further.
Andre broke contact with her lips and began licking at her throat and chin. His rough tongue alternated between ruffling the fur and smoothing it back out. He could feel the heat of her passage as he effortlessly pistoned in and out, giving his hips a slight twist at the apex of each thrust. Krystalla moaned again and shuddered, her tail thickening as the fur on it stood straight out. He reached beneath her robe and began kneading and massaging her ass. His hands squeezed at her and razor sharp claws delicately raked the fur there, brushing occasionally at the base of her tail.
The raccoon's breath became hot as she felt the need rise within her. She began riding faster, then faster still, driving herself towards the release she craved. Her mound, by now, was sopping wet.
"Oh... Oh gawd!" she cried. "More! Please I need... need it... Oh I need you... please... Please!" She continued to plunge up and down along his shaft, moaning and whimpering for almost a minute before she suddenly locked up and drove him into her passage as deeply as he could go. She wrapped her arms and legs around the cheetah and her body convulsed. "Ah... Ah... Ah... OOOOHHHH! MORE!
She clung to Andre, shuddering for over a minute. Her nectar flowed freely along his cock and soaked into the blankets. Even before she finished shaking she was flinging herself up and down his cock once more. She entered a frenzied cycle of orgasm and thrusting that went on almost non-stop for half an hour. Through it, the cheetah desperately tried to relax and hold back on his own orgasm. He counted to one hundred, did math problems in his head and even tried to mentally recite those portions of the Navy regulations he had committed to memory, all in an effort to extend his own endurance.
Fifteen minutes and four more trembling orgasms and Krystalla finally began to slow, exhausted with the effort. Sensing now was the time, Andre stretched his legs, tightening the muscles along his thighs and calves.. Stimulated and aching as his cock was, it took no more than a few upward pelvic thrusts for him to release his seed into the girl.
Feeling his hot pulses filling her, Krystalla was wracked by one last, intense, quivering orgasm. "OOOOHHHHHAAAAHHHHH!" she breathed in a long, undulating sigh before resting her chin on the cheetah's shoulder. Her eyes flicked upward and met his. She smiled tenderly. "Thank-you," she whispered even as her eyelids slipped downward and she began to breathe slowly and deeply.
Andre's purr rumbled softly through the both of them as he too drifted off to sleep. When he opened his eyes several hours later, he found himself looking up into the helmeted face of a fox. Shifting slightly, he discovered he was still locked together with Krystalla, their fur matted by both sweat and cum. She was smiling and gently rocking against him in her sleep.
The fox opened the seal on his helmet and pushed the visor back. Across the front of the helmet was written C. S. RELIANCE (CMC-82). Behind him drifted several other space-suited figures; one carrying a medical bag and the others holding medical evacuation stretchers.
"Sorry to disturb you," he whispered, "but my captain would like to get the two of you over to sickbay for a physical exam."
"What kept you guys?" Andre asked, keeping his voice low. Oddly, he didn't feel even the slightest embarrassment at being discovered in such a "compromising" position
"Long story..." the fox replied. "We can fill you in later during debrief." He glanced down at the raccoon. "You want to wake her up so we can get going?"
Krystalla sighed delicately in her sleep and wiggled against Andre, ever so seductively.
The cheetah looked up at the fox and grinned. "Not to sound unappreciative... but could you come back in, let's say, a day or two and rescue us then?"
END