FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Squinting heavily, the snow rabbit raised a white-furred paw, shielding her ice-blue eyes, getting a better look at her surroundings. It was hard to fathom. Such bright, vivid colors: lush, leafy greens, neon blues, with a splash of gold and juicy red. And orange. The sun. A sinking, fiery disc on the rippling horizon, a skyline that seemed to stretch into eternity. A distance without end. Perhaps there is no further shore, Aria mused, deeply. We are merely on an island. This planet. This galaxy. This universe. All islands in their respective seas.

"If you can handle space, you can handle the ocean," Ross insisted, coming up behind her. "It's much bigger up there than down here."

Aria, looking over her shoulder, raised a brow at the meadow mouse.

"Last time I checked," he added.

She gave him a patient eye-smile, emerging from her internal revelry. "It's easy to forget that when you spend most of your time in confined spaced. In corridors and rooms." Not that Arctic was an uncomfortable ship. She was sleek, functional. Top of the line. Inside and out. The captain looked back to the horizon, taking a deep breath. The air was florid. She could almost taste it. Star-fruit, mangoes, and guava. Pineapple, too? And the scent of sun lotion? The last one was from Ross's ears. And tail. Of course. Mouses are so delicate, aren't they? Sometimes, I wish I could be. I've seen and done far too much. I'm hardened. There's no going back, now. "It's rich of you to tease me so. You don't have much experience with oceans, yourself, from what you've told me."

"Not really." He kicked at the sand. "Grew up a farm boy."

She mewed.

"Is that funny?"

"I can full well imagine it." Only, he hadn't been a mouse then, had he? That 'farm boy' upbringing had been spent as an alien. With no fur! On some odd, far flung world beyond the UT. She didn't think of him as different, though. She'd only ever known him as what he currently was. Is my love dependent on his species? If all that dangerous human experimentation had turned him into, say, an Arctic fox, would I be with him now? Probably not ...

"You alright?" He could always tell when she was zoning out. Her nose would wrinkle and her eyes would narrow.

"Mm?" A deep breath. "Yes. Fine." Though her mind was, in fact, heavy with worry. The Syndicate. The storm brewing in the UT. The functionality and future safety of Redwing Station. Not to mention the needs of the border colonies Arctic had been assigned to protect. It's too much for one ship to handle. If only the fleet hadn't been decimated by the wasps. If only we could rebuild faster. We need backup. Soon.

"You don't seem alright."

"I am, Ross. I assure you. I am simply preoccupied." Her voice took on an authoritative tone. The kind she used when talking to junior officers. She clasped her paws behind her back, primly. Wearing a dark blue two-piece bathing suit. A bikini top which, while covering her supple, furry breasts, showed quite a bit of cleavage. And the bottom piece was rather low-cut. She looked breathtaking.

"Good thing we're on vacation, then. You can finally relax." He looked her over, sighing reverently. More gorgeous than the scenery, if that were possible. He watched her perfectly-fluffed bobtail flicker like a furry flame. "I, uh ... well, I mean, we can both relax. You know? Together."

She caught his drift. "Yes, we will be doing plenty of that."

He cleared his throat, putting on a dimpled smile. And hugging her from behind, swaying left to right. She leaned with him. He, himself, was just in plain, knee-length swim trunks. "When we were walking out here from our room, I saw a lot of the crew staring at you."

"Oh?"

"They're not used to seeing their captain looking so relaxed and provocative. They're only used to you as a command figure."

"As it should be." She was genial with her crew. More than average. Though not on the nurturing level that Commander Graham was on Redwing. But, then, her security background and wartime experience made her a more by the book type. "Are you sure they were staring at me?" she teased. "You don't give yourself enough credit."

"You're too kind," he said, massaging her sides, pulling her rump to his hips. He was fit. Always passed his monthly physicals in sickbay. But, "I need to bulk up. You wouldn't think it would be so hard to gain weight."

"You need to be less self-conscious about splurging." She turned her head, aiming for a kiss.

"I'm just cautious. I learned that from you." He understood her gesture and leaned in, kissing her. Their lips smacking, whiskers tangling. Both sighing as they pulled away. Ross came out from behind her, to her side. Slipping his fingers between hers. Paw in paw, they began strolling down the beach, closer to the water.

"I feel odd, truth be told, taking shore leave here," she continued. "Snow rabbits and beaches ... "

"Not enough icebergs? Pine trees?"

"We do have a summer season on the Home-world. We did evolve with warm weather. It's just that winter was ... and is," she added, "so much longer and more intense. By the time it's through with you, you forget that summer was ever a reality." 'Brutal' was a better word. Which is why snow rabbits were a bit emotionally restrained. Nature's way to psychologically protect them from the harshness of their own environment. Now, with modern technology, that winter was much easier to bear. Cities had tunnels and heated pathways indoors. All sorts of things. But nature's influence could never be removed.

"Why'd we choose this colony, again? Was it a crew vote?" Ross asked.

"It's the midway point of our patrol route. In the event of an emergency on one of the other colonies, it was wise to anchor in a centralized location." They were walking on wet sand, now. Her foot-paws sank into it, leaving prints. They were much bigger than Ross's. He seemed to notice, because he let go of her paw and lingered back to follow in them.

"Now, if a spy is following us, they'll think I disappeared!"

"That's just silly."

He giggled again and scurried back to her side, ropy tail trailing, retaking her paw in his. He swung their arms once or twice. "Well, I like it here. I've not spent much time anywhere tropical. And there are tens of thousands of snow rabbits on this colony. Been here for decades, now. If not a century." He'd been reading up on it in the main database. "They seem have to have adapted just fine. I'm sure you will, too." They'd actually stopped here a while back. He didn't remember why. Just a routine visit? Though he did remember Kaplan blabbing, later on, about an elicit encounter with a librarian. The communications officer, only nineteen, was the youngest fur on the crew, and often got up to mischief.

"Yes, the locals seem well-adjusted. But I'm sure they didn't adapt in a week." That's how long Arctic would be here. Most of the crew would take their leave in shifts. Two groups. Three-and-a-half days for each. A few had requested every other day. Aria and Ross had drawn the first group. "The beauty of this place is not lost on me. I will say that ... "

"Nor on me," Ross said, tugging her toward the surf. Crying birds hovered low and then away. The mouse squeaked aloud, ears swiveling in surprise, as his foot-paws met the rolling waves of water. "It's colder than I thought!"

"Don't worry," she teased, nudging him a little deeper. Up to his shins in the salty sea before giving him a threatening bump. "You'll adapt."

"Funny, Aria. If you dunked me, I would've come after you!"

"I'm an expert at paw-to-paw combat."

"Doesn't mean I couldn't take you down," he assured.

"Try."

"Well." Ross bit his lip and hesitated, looking around. They were the only ones in sight. How far did we wander from the resort? "I'm ... I'm not gonna fight a female."

"Think of it as sparring," she corrected, beginning to circle him. The salty, rushing water sloshing around her thighs, soaking her fur. She bent her elbows, raising her paws. "I won't shatter. I'm not a flower."

"Flowers don't shatter. They wilt."

"You know what I meant."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled. "I, uh ... " He'd seen her in action plenty of times. During tactical drills in the ship's gym, often with Elim, their mutual lover and the ship's second-in-command. "Leave me with some dignity, at least ... "

"You are too cute to embarrass." She looped her arms around his hips, moving backwards, shuffling into the higher, faster waves. But not tackling him or taking him down. They surged up to their hips, now.

"You're so good at everything. I feel so lame, sometimes, in comparison."

"You are a better artist than me."

"Maybe ... "

"I'm sure you could swim circles around me right now, if you wished."

"I am a good swimmer," he admitted. But mostly pools and freshwater. "You don't know how to swim at all?"

"I can. But only on a rudimentary level. It was part of our training, but a very minor focus. Swimming isn't big with my species."

"No, I imagine not." He wriggled out of her grasp and hunkered down a bit, bending his knees and outstretching his arms. "There's not much to it. I mean, with legs like yours, you should have no trouble with a backstroke. Or a breaststroke."

"Is that really what they're called?"

"Yeah."

"I had no idea swimming was so lascivious."

Ross laughed and splashed her.

She tasted salt on her lips. And saw droplets dripping off her whiskers. So, she splashed back.

"They're staring, again."

"Can you blame them?" asked the snow rabbit, sipping a fruit smoothie from a tall, fancy glass.

Assumpta raised a brow. It was practically sunset. The dusk settling in. Arctic's chief and deputy chief engineers were at an outdoor café just off the beach, about to eat their evening meal.

"You're likely the first snow leopard many of them have seen outside a holo-suite."

"True."

"And you are ravishingly beautiful."

"Also true," Assumpta said with a playful smirk, her big, clawed paw reaching for Oliver's drink.

He relinquished it. "Ah, just a few sips. You said you didn't want one."

"I'm curious. This is made with real fruit?"

"That's what they said. Also, you know what they say about curiosity and cats ... "

"I hope it's not making you jealous."

"What?"

"The attention," she clarified.

"Oh. Well. Not especially. If anything, they should be jealous of me." He took her free paw and caressed it, running his fingers up her arms. "For having access to your internal systems."

"You are lucky I am already attached to you, or I would find that an odd thing to say."

"You know you like it." They'd one made love against the warp core, hadn't they? She had a kinky side when it came to technology and sex.

"This is the first time since we left your Home-world that you have been truly away from them." She returned his smoothie. But, now, she was in the mood for sweets. Cake? Cookies? Something filling. Pie. And they hadn't even started supper yet!

"My engines? I suppose so." Oliver admitted to worrying about them. But he'd trained his staff fairly well. And all Arctic was doing right now was orbiting the planet. Things should be fine. More furs, mostly snow rabbits, began arrived. The tables began to fill. Chatter filled the air. It was a pleasant sound.

"I wish our meal would arrive. I'm starving."

"Literally or figuratively?" Oliver teased.

She smirked. "It will be nice to have a soil-grown meal. One not from the food processors."

"Ross cooks real food." A mixture of real and replicated, sometimes. The ship had a hydroponics bay, but it couldn't feed the whole crew three meals a day. "He's gotten much better as the mission's gone on," Oliver insisted. "I much prefer it to the stuff I was getting on the space stations back home. At the shipyards. Glorified rations." He stuck his tongue out.

"Poor dear."

"I thank you for your pity," the snow rabbit replied. He was such a smooth operator. Maybe that's why he made a good chief engineer. Whereas some snow rabbits were a bit aloof, he seemed constantly at ease. Though still with that natural bit of restraint.

"Ross serves decent food, yes," the snow leopard continued, tail swishing about at random intervals. "But he's clearly not a properly-trained chef." She paused. "I think he only has the job because he's mated to the captain and she didn't want to leave him behind."

"Do you blame her? We tried a long-distance ... well, medium-distance," he corrected, "relationship when we met. We were constantly missing each other. I didn't get much work done at that time. I was always thinking to the next moment I could be with you. When I got this assignment, I asked that you be assigned to Arctic, too, so if the captain's guilty, then so am I."

"I suppose you are right." Assumpta nodded, relenting the point. She had forgone any chance of advancement by accepting the assignment on Arctic. It was a lateral move from her position aboard Luminous. She used to be very ambitious. But, over time, she'd become content with things. Was that so bad? "I think Ross is scared of me."

"He is a mouse. You are a cat. There is a long history of natural enmity there."

"I've met mouses before." She thought back to Commander Field on Luminous, her previous posting. Even the pilot, Chester. "I never had any problems with them. They were nervous, at first. But they got over it. It's almost like he isn't used to being around predators."

"Perhaps he grew up in an isolated place. Sheltered. He does seem to cling to Aria rather heavily."

"And Elim."

"Yes, I think we all know about that." It wasn't much of a secret. And, truth be told, no one on the ship much cared. It had been a slight scandal at first. But the majority of the rabbits on Arctic were open-breeders anyway. And once the gossip mill got done with one topic, it was ready for another.

The snow leopard shook her head. "I suppose I read into things too much. I am a thinker."

"And what of me?"

"A hopeless romantic."

He gave her a restrained, gentle smile, touching his big bare foot-paws to hers beneath the table. Rubbing his clawed toes against her ankles.

She began to purr, deeply.

Rabbit ears at the nearby table twiddled at the sound. It wasn't one they were used to hearing.

"I think our supper is coming," Oliver said, catching sight of approaching trays. "Oh, and I shall I put in an early order for dessert? I have a feeling I'm going to want it."

Assumpta nodded, smiled, and purred even louder.

"You want to sell drugs?" Graham asked, as if he'd misheard.

"Inhalants."

Barrow raised a brow.

"Medicinal!" the platypus insisted, clacking her bill. "One hundred percent organic."

The doctor exchanged a look with Graham, who then looked to the platypus and said, "We'll, uh, let you know."

"Well, it better be soon! I got a whole lot o' places to be." The monotreme spun on a dime and waddled out, slapping her paddle-tail on the floor.

"We're going to have to pass on that one," Graham said when she was gone. The entire staff was assembled in the wardroom, below Ops, vetting applicants for residency. The station was online, now. Every deck. Even the mysterious lower decks had been, at the very least, mapped and brought to spec. They still needed some work, though. Things weren't in perfect condition, but the crew had been entertaining travelers for weeks. Koalas, skunks, and random passers-by. They needed permanent merchants and business-furs to cater to these guests. But because it was a High Command facility, they couldn't just let anyone live here. They had to know what they were getting into first. It was only logical.

"She didn't really specify what drugs she'd be pushing," Seldovia said, trying to be nice. "Maybe they're harmless?"

"Fleet regulations frown on officers using non-prescribed substances," Annika said.

"Just saying that not all drugs are narcotics." The skunk crossed her arms, defensively. "My pheromones could be considered a drug-like inhalant. They impair judgment, produce an emotional high."

"I can attest to that," Seward echoed, quietly. "I certainly hope Seldovia will not be considered against regulations to use," the engineer continued, pink nose sniffing up and down. "Though I do find her somewhat addictive." Ever since his mate had been wooed by a visiting skunk, he'd become more assertive in expressing his affections. In everything, really. She's given me my confidence back. It's time I began to use it.

Annika wasn't sure how to respond to all this.

Graham, caught between mild amusement and exasperation, said, "Of course not. You may, uh ... 'partake' of her whenever you two see fit."

Petra laughed.

"Is skunk spray really addictive?" Herkimer whispered to Barrow.

The bat shook his head. "Nope." Unless you were addicted to pleasure. And some furs were. Barrow suspected that Seward might be. With all the pain he'd suffered in the war? With his self deprecating attitude? He might not have been joking. He might truly be addicted to the pleasure her pheromones gave him. The bat furrowed his brow in thought. But what can I do about that? His health isn't being endangered. And many furs might claim to be addicted to their mates, their loves. It's a very romantic sentiment.

He remembered studying the chemical composition of skunk spray before, though. The good and bad kinds. During his medical training. His repository of medical knowledge was more impressive than his crewmates likely realized, or would ever give him credit for. He wasn't 'equipped' to be a surgeon. Bats were strongly dissuaded from that by most medical organizations. With their wing-arms, they didn't have a full array of free-standing fingers for such precise, delicate work. Which is why he'd gone into general practice. Regardless, I'm the only doctor this station has. If something horrible happens, if we're attacked by pirates or the Syndicate, their lives could be in my wings. I may be flippant, but I don't take that lightly.

Barrow shook his head. Since when do you worry about anything, let alone stuff like this? He glanced at Seldovia. She was incredibly pretty. Especially today. Every bit the princess. Clearly the product of refined breeding. I've never bred with a skunk. Hard to believe. I'm an open-breeder, been with dozens of species. Never a skunk! I bet they feel good ...

Seward blinked and caught the doctor staring at his mate.

Barrow shrugged sheepishly, mouthing, 'No harm, no foul,' and looked away. Then aside, to Herkimer. He could read the grey mouse's thoughts. The rodent was wondering why Sheila didn't get mad when he ogled other females. He was wondering how they could breed together so often and not want to be proper mates. Surely, the bat and hare were actually madly, desperately in love but too stubborn and independent to admit it. And, really, wasn't their denial kind of romantic in its own right? And how wonderfully swoon-ful it would be when they both finally realized the truth!

Barrow almost chuckled. The innocent mouse viewed everything through rosy, romantic glasses, didn't he? Sheila, though. She was a pragmatist. They slept in the same bed, but he couldn't read her mind. Not casually. She still had that mental block. She won't let it down for me, even after all we've been through? But now that he'd punctured through, literally, having bitten her and merged minds, he had a good idea of what she was might be thinking. Formidable, honorable. Stiffly so. Everyone she'd ever trusted had faded away. Pyro had broken her heart, even if he hadn't meant to. The Federation had finished it off. Everything in her life had been an adversity. She was so used to it that she could hardly relax. She expected tension.

I wish she'd let me bite her more often. I want to. I need to bite. The instinct is so strong. I could take all of it away. All her hang-ups. Make her feel so, so good! Not to mention I'd feel good, too, which is always a plus. But she's so used to being the tough girl, the iron paw of security, that she's afraid she'd lose her identity, her sense of self, her ability to do her job, if she softened. Isn't that right?

Sheila stared back at him, tall, distinguished ears, silvery in color, twitching subtly. They were wider than the snow rabbits' ears. Her blunt-clawed, padded paws gripped the armrests of her chair. She didn't need to be a telepath to see the desire in Barrow's deep-blue eyes. He was a selfish, libidinous bastard, sometimes. But he wasn't without a few charms. He was good in a social setting, but how much of that was on him? And how much was due to his ability to read minds? But, then, what was a bat without telepathy? It's ingrained in him. You can't try to look at him without it. He's been struggling for that acknowledgement his whole life. He hadn't become a rogue bat because he hated other furs. It was simply because he wanted to use his inherent telepathic gifts without persecution. Am I persecuting him? Even unintentionally? Do I make him feel ashamed for being what he is?

Why'd I breed with him in the first place, back on Luminous? I don't even remember. Was I trying to get over Pyro? Prove something? Maybe I just hadn't gotten laid in so long. The wasps wouldn't let me pleasure myself. I began to feel ashamed of my body. Barrow lusted after it. It felt nice. If I hadn't done it, though, if I hadn't seduced him, maybe I wouldn't be so close to him. Maybe I wouldn't want him right now. Wouldn't want to fuck him against a bulkhead, like a feral beast. Wouldn't want him in my mind again. It was so overwhelming that first time. Thoughts, memories, emotions, physical sensations. His and hers. Together. But it was strangely wonderful.

"Sheila?"

Should I resist? Would my life be better without all that? If so, why do I want him so badly?

"Lieutenant-commander?"

"Mm? What?" The hare cleared her throat, feeling incredibly flushed. Her steely eyes darted to find the source of the voice. Then fell upon Commander Graham.

"Are you alright?" he asked, tilting his head in genuine concern.

"Yeah. Yes. Absolutely." She nodded, simply. Short of breath. My paw-pads are sweating. Can't stop thinking lurid thoughts. Panties are wet, clinging to my loins. No, I'm not okay. I'm coming into heat ...

The male snow rabbit seemed to be realizing this, as well. In fact, he could begin to smell it. He cleared his throat and said, as gently as possible, "When we are done here, you and the doctor can begin your leave. Agreed?" It was an order, even if phrased as a polite suggestion. Heat leave was mandatory. Excused, compensated 'house arrest' for three days. It had been decided, long ago, that having females in estrus walking around in public often led to distracting, sticky situations for all. A female on 'leave' had the right to extend that leave to any male of her choosing. For her, that was Barrow. But the last time she'd been in heat, she'd never been bitten. Now, she had. The floodgates had been opened. The door's been cracked. I've let him in. I can't keep him out anymore. He'll bite me again. I won't refuse. And what if I start to love him?

"Unless you need to go now?" Graham continued, worriedly.

"No. No, I can wait. I'm sorry, sir. Um, let's ... finish the interviews," Sheila said, resolutely.

"You needn't apologize. I understand completely." He knew how proud Sheila was. He didn't want to embarrass her by relieving her of duty.

Sheila took a deep, stabilizing breath.

Barrow tried to send her telepathic messages, but they didn't get through. He cursed, stretching his wing-arms on either side of his chair.

"I must remind everyone," Annika said, getting them back on track, "that we haven't agreed on a single resident yet. We do need shopkeepers on the Promenade. Or cooks. Barkeeps. At least a few individuals, to start. We can't entice travelers to stay here, or build a community of any kind, if there's no influx of new blood, if there's nothing ... "

" ... or no one," Barrow injected.

" ... to do." Annika blinked and gave the bat a look.

"Sorry." The doctor's mind was swimming with images of naked, needy hare. I knew she was coming into heat, soon. I just didn't realize it was gonna be today!

"Bottom line is that we, the crew, cannot run the Promenade. We have Ops, communications, security, and engineering to deal with. So, we really need to make a decision."

"She's right. We can't reject all the applicants," Graham said. "The UT is full of furs with less-than-reputable pasts. There's no over-arcing government out here to keep everyone in line." That was part of their mission, here. To bring order to chaos. And to give the High Command a foothold in the unknown, as a listening post for future deep-space threats.

"I've had enough o' big governments, thanks," Petra said, crossing her arms. The rat's round ears swiveled slightly. Her thick, fleshy tail furled over the back of her chair. She'd woken up early to welcome all the prospective merchants to Redwing. Had given them all tours. "Sides, it's not their backgrounds that make me reject 'em." Lord knows she had a dark one, herself. "I just haven't seen a good fit. I mean ... especially the wombat. He was creepy."

"He was shady," Barrow agreed, nodding.

"Why?" Annika pressed, folding her paws on the tabletop.

"I don't know. Something was off about his mind." The bat narrowed his eyes. "Never scanned a wombat before, so maybe they're all like that."

"Like what?"

"Kooky?"

"You think he's been tampered with?" Graham asked. "A mole for the Syndicate?"

Sheila tensed, trying to clamp down on the heat welling inside her. Trying to focus. "If they get wind we're starting to build something here, and I don't see why they wouldn't have, they'll move to stop it." And not necessarily in the form of a flat-out firefight. From what she'd gathered, their methods were far more precise. They liked to pull strings. Manipulate from a distance. And then, when the situation had become pliable enough, they'd swoop in and use force to show they meant business and finish the deal.

"They're capable of brainwashing, reprogramming. Sending furs out unwittingly and then collecting the information when the time's right. I mean, it's not easy." Furs assumed that telepathy was completely effortless. And while it was greatly instinctive, the deeper you went, the more energy and focus it required. "But it can be done. And I have to assume all the bats in the Syndicate are experts." When you didn't reign in your powers whatsoever, and used them all the time, they were bound to be pretty strong.

"Wait, the wombat was a mole?" Herkimer suddenly exclaimed, eyes widening. He'd only been paying half-attention. "I didn't know those two species could reproduce!"

Seldovia smiled.

Sheila rolled her eyes.

Barrow chuckled. It was clear the mouse's mind was on a certain squirrel. The freighter Reverie was scheduled to dock within the hour. Petra seemed a bit out of it, too. Her mate was Reverie's captain.

"Yes, well, we have a second wave of applicants due tomorrow. I'm going to assume we'll have better luck with them. But I'd like to ratify at least one from this initial group," Graham said. "Get two or three shops or restaurants going on the Promenade. That'll be enough to lure in others. One they see that operating a business here is viable. Especially if traffic becomes a daily event." Visitors were coming. Once or twice a week. It wasn't yet a constant stream. The commander, sitting up straight, looked to the wardroom doors. "Advent?"

The jaguar had been skulking there, lazily leaning against the bulkhead. Listening to everything and scowling through most of it. She was too restless to sit down. Besides, the only open seat was next to Sheila, and she wasn't sitting next to that bat-fucker. "What?" she muttered.

"Can you fetch the next applicant? Please?" They were waiting down the corridor.

The patterned, well-built feline bristled. "Sure. I'll get 'em. But I notice we're only looking at prey applicants," she said, testily.

"I'm sure that's just a coincidence," Graham assured. "As far as I know, no predators applied today. We can't force them to. Everyone knows the High Command is running this place, and we're a prey-fronted government. Perhaps that has discouraged them?" In the grand scheme of things, predators were still the majority. Numbers-wise, there were simply more of them. And they were obviously physically stronger. They were the dominant sphere of influence in the Federation, the Scalie Solidarity, and in many parts of the UT. But with the rise of the snow rabbits' High Command and the end of the civil war in the Federation, not to mention the spreading of the bat-backed Syndicate, the balance of control was becoming more equal than it had ever been. Still not perfect. But it was progress. Sort of.

"You know what I think?" Advent countered.

Graham did not. But he had a feeling the jaguar was going to tell him.

"I think you're all biased against predators."

"And from what basis do you make that assumption?" Annika asked.

"Since I've gotten here, I've been viewed with suspicion and scorn by all of you."

"That's not fair," Seldovia said. "I've never done anything to you."

"No, because you've never given me the time of day, princess. I'm beneath you." Advent squinted at the skunk. And her snow rabbit 'prince.' She knew more about Seldovia than everyone else did. Having drawn many tales from the royalist the skunk had succumbed to. She scanned the room, deciding to unleash on everyone. "I've been violently pinned to the floor by that hare."

Sheila glowered.

"I've been my heart smashed and teased by certain rodents."

Herkimer twitched painfully.

Petra just frowned.

"Fucked over and violated by our resident mind reader."

Barrow sighed.

Graham clenched his jaw. He knew about that, of course. That Barrow had bred with Advent. What a stupid thing for the bat to do! My libido is much stronger than his, and even I wouldn't have been so foolish as to entertain Advent's advances.

"I'm the only one without a mate. Or partner," the jaguar complained. She had to resort to screwing holograms! It was embarrassing. "None of you hangs out with me. None of you wants to eat or talk with me. I'm the odd one out in every way possible." Her rage was rapidly becoming exasperation. Even sadness. Her breasts heaved beneath her uniform.

"And you think all of this is because you are a predator?" Annika asked slowly, swiveling her chair around. Facing the jungle cat, who was still standing near the closed doorway. "That all of this 'unfair' behavior toward you is because of your species?"

"It's a part of the reason. You can't deny that!"

"Nor can you deny that you're a bitch," Sheila spat.

Graham held up a paw.

The hare went quiet.

"None of you have any idea what I've been through," the jaguar insisted.

"That's not entirely true," Barrow whispered.

The jaguar glared. "I swear, if you tell anyone ... " She glanced at Sheila. He'd bitten her, too, hadn't he? She knew what he knew. She knows what I know! "Or you. God help me ... "

"I'm not a gossip," Barrow insisted.

"No, you just believe in 'freedom of information'."

"What, uh ... what are we talking about?" Herkimer wondered. He was starting to get lost.

"Your best friend had a hankering for some feline pussy," Advent told the mouse, bluntly. "I supplied it."

Barrow blushed beneath his periwinkle, powder blue fur. Feeling hot. Incredibly embarrassed. Everyone knew, now! Great. He looked to Sheila, eyes apologetic. She already knew and had dismissed the whole thing. But, still. I never wanted her dragged through this publicly. God, I just wanted sex. I wanted to bite someone! Is that so wrong? I didn't think it would get this messy.

Herkimer looked horrified. His whiskers twitching, ropy tail going rigid before snaking to the floor. "You ... w-what?" he stammered at Barrow. Advent hurt me. Clawed me, used me. Barrow's my best friend. He had sex with her? What? How could he ... he knows she hurt me ...

The bat covered his muzzle with a sky-blue wing arm. Sighing heavily. "Herkimer ... "

"You know what stings the most?" Advent said, voice quivering. "That being close to me is something that horrifies you. All of you," she added. None of them were innocent. "I'm the only predator on this crew, and you treat me like a pariah!"

"Again, I will point out," Annika said, as calmly as possible, "that your status amongst the crew has nothing to do with your species. Or your place on the food chain. You're not liked because you don't want to be."

"Excuse me?" The feline's fluffy tail bristled. Her ears pinned to her skull.

"You make minimal effort. You are here as a hired gun on behalf of the Federation," the female snow rabbit pointed out. "You're just waiting for your chance to leave. The rest of us, while this may not have been our dream job, or our first choice of action ... " She looked around the room. They were all here because they had nowhere else to go. "We are all doing our best with this mission." She paused. "I've started viewing this station as a home. Not just a temporary one, either, but something more permanent. It's a challenge, but challenges have their rewards." She glanced at Graham, her commander, her mate. She returned her gaze to Advent. "You expect us to bend over backwards to try to please you and win you over? Perhaps you should attempt to be nicer to us. It goes both ways. Everyone came to this station looking for a fresh start at life. A second chance," she stressed. "Perhaps it's time you started making the most of yours."

Advent looked down, breathing heavily. Trying to digest all that the ambassador had said.

Graham waited a moment before adding, "Advent, you may not believe this, but you are a valued member of this crew."

"Really ... "

"Yes."

No reply.

"Unless you have somewhere else to go, you're stuck with us. And we're stuck with you. We're all adults. We can make it work."

She crossed her arms and made a throaty sound. "Maybe ... " They're trying to tame me, aren't they? They think they can do it with words and simpering gestures? I'm a jungle cat.

"And if, tomorrow, there are any predator applicants for station residency, we will interview them first."

She nodded, lightly. Appearing to soften. But it was so hard to tell.

"Now, will you please get the next fur in line?"

Turning without a word, the jaguar left through the swooshing doors.

The wardroom was silent for a moment.

"Well, that was dramatic," Petra quipped.

"Indeed," Graham agreed, nodding to his first officer.

"She's got such a persecution complex, and yet she loves antagonizing and diggin' her claws in things. She wants us to feel sorry for her, but she doesn't feel a lick sorry for us. Tries to have her cake and eat it, too," the rat insisted.

Annika concurred. "She is used to getting her way. And now she serves in a hierarchy where her way is not guaranteed. You would think she would've reconciled that by now."

"Some furs just aren't nice," Seldovia said.

A few of the others looked at her.

"Well, we're trying to be all liberal and open-minded here, aren't we, looking for the best in others, the best in her," the skunk continued, emphatically. "But, sometimes, individuals can't be redeemed." Her eyes grew distant. "I saw my parents murdered. Some furs just don't care."

Seward reached for the skunk's paw.

Silence for a moment.

"I don't believe Advent is bad," Graham eventually said. "Certainly not as bad as that."

"I do," Sheila whispered. "You should've known her back before the wasp war. When she was a freighter captain in the UT."

"Which again goes to my point of her being unused to the bottom of a hierarchy. She has always been in charge. Had her way," Annika said.

"She said she loved me but treated me like a pet," Herkimer whispered, shamefully. His eyes watered. He still had the scars beneath his fur.

"Total malcontent," said Petra.

"Is this a group judgment? Are the stones ready? What are you all suggesting? That I should kick her off the station?" the commander asked.

Sighs and fidgets and looks of avoidance.

The rat shook her head and replied, "Nah, if you did that, she'd only run to the Syndicate and turn us all in."

Herkimer's whiskers twitched. A fear seized his heart. The Syndicate. "S-she ... you think she'd do that?"

"If she's capable of doing that," Seward said, speaking up again, "then it's best to let her do it. Far more dangerous to keep her in our midst where she serves as a ticking time bomb."

"We can't legally kick her off, can we? As part of the post-war peace agreement between the High Command and Federation, there were certain concessions made. One of them, albeit a minor one, was that we should share any 'pertinent' information gathered in the UT," Annika explained. "And we do that by allowing one of their officers to be stationed here."

"Why the hell's that?" Petra, again.

"Because any threat in the UT concerns all furry governments. Not just ours. But our space is closer to it, so it's easier for us to keep an eye on."

"Yeah, but Advent isn't even an actual Federation citizen. She's a UT native! Just passin' off as one." The brown-furred rodent fidgeted in her chair. "I've gotten along with predators b'fore." Some of then intimately. "It's not that she's a feline. It's ... gah, who cares anymore. This is becomin' an endless circle o' drama. This is exactly what she wants! She feeds off tension."

"What information is deemed 'pertinent'?" Sheila asked.

"Perhaps we should get back on topic: applications for station residency. Particularly merchants," Graham said. "We all agree we have an 'Advent Problem.' And that it can't continue for much longer." I don't want her to give us a bad name when our guests start coming en masse. She's going to have to fall into line.

They all agreed.

And then began talking about station business again.

Barrow, meanwhile, whispered to Herkimer, "Mousey, please. I hope you'll forgive me ... " It scared him to think that the mouse would stop being his friend. He scanned the mouse's mind, desperately, reading his thoughts. Trying to respond to them before the rodent could speak them. "I made a mistake. I was ... look, I'm not perfect ... "

Herkimer reached for the bat's periwinkle wing-arm. And clutched to it. "I made the same mistake." He'd been with the jaguar. A lot more times than Barrow had. And even once they'd broken up, he'd still gone back to her a few times. "It's, uh, behind us now." A pause. "I don't like to hold grudges, anyway. They're too heavy. Strain my back."

A warm smile of utter relief from the bat. "Thank you," he mouthed.

Sheila watched the two males bonding across the table. She felt simultaneously jealous and grateful. Jealous that she didn't have a non-sexual friend like Barrow had in Herkimer. But grateful that she at least had Barrow. I'm not alone. I need to stop pretending I am or need to be.

They were interrupted by the doors swishing open again, Advent emerging with the next candidate. An otter, this time.

"Greetings," Graham said, bowing. "Welcome to Redwing Station."

"I met some of you fine furs before, when I docked, but I must say the place looks amazing."

"Oh, well, thank you," Seldovia said, giggling. She loved flattery.

"He's talkin' 'bout the station, princess," Petra told her.

"I know that," Seldovia defended.

A look from Graham quieted them both.

The otter, eyes wide, waited a beat and continued, "I've passed this way dozens, if not hundreds of times over the years, and it was always so forbidding. So trashy. It's, uh ... boy, I never thought it would get restored. Not many furs would have the resources around here to attempt it!"

"We're being supplied by the High Command," the commander continued.

"Oh, the High Command? Rather strong presence. That would explain it." The otter stood tall, curling his rudder-tail to the left. His thick, water-resistant fur looking especially well-groomed. He'd obviously prepared for this meeting.

Annika raised a brow, bobtail flickering. "And what do you do, Mr ... ?"

"Dobson." The otter chirped. A distinct, playful sound. "And I'm glad you asked!"

"Uh-n ... "

"Oh. Oh-h."

The bed creaked, being jostled on its frame.

"Mm!"

The friction of fur rubbing on sheets, so faint and subtle, repeated itself again and again.

"Mm-h ... "

It was nighttime, and the third-story windows were up. Letting the outside in. A half-empty bottle of snow rabbit ale, the lid off, was on the little round table on the awning. The chairs pushed aside. The doors had been left open to let in even more warmth. The sweet air. The trills of the night creatures. Soft, delicate curtains had been lowered to prevent peering from nearby buildings, but they billowed and pushed apart every few seconds from the sea breeze. When that happened, moonlight would spill across the bed, revealing nature taking its course.

Ross gasped, ropy tail tensing and whipping to the side.

"It's okay, dear. Relax ... "

"Mm, I ... "

"Hush ... mm, that's it." A paw fondled his blue-grey rump. The fur soft. The cheeks so pert. "Lie still."

Deep breaths.

" ... oh-h, fuck." A happy mew. "Y-yes ... "

More mews, lighter, softer.

White-furred legs from beneath, long and lithe, able to hop and kick with the best of them, wrapping around the mouse.

Sandwiched, horizontally, between two very naked, very horny snow rabbits, Ross was completely bewildered. Doing things he'd never done, feeling things he'd never felt. The hot, velvety caress of Aria's pink pussy was, for its part, so wonderfully familiar. So scintillating. He had it memorized. But it felt better than the memory each and every time. He was embedded in it, surrounded by it, his rock-hard essence slick with her nectar, snugged by her walls. And he wanted to pull back. Oh, how he wanted to pull back so he could push forward. Back and forth! To start that rhythm, that fabulous, pleasurable friction. I want, I want, I want!

But, for the moment, the weight of Elim on his back prevented it.

Ross squeaked helplessly as the male snow rabbit, very well lubed, took his time mounting him, pushing into his equally-prepared tail-star. Halfway in, now. Gentle, so sweet. Caressing the mouse. Whispering to him. "I'm almost ... almost, my love ... "

Those words, and the tone they were uttered in, made the mouse emotional. "Elim," he cried, heart skipping a beat.

"Mm-f. Oh, Ross," the snow rabbit sighed, finally wedging himself all the way. The mouse was tight. Almost form-fitting. His furry orbs flush with the mouse's rump-cheeks, very near the rodent's own swollen sac.

The mouse held his breath. His rump was clenching. It almost hurt. He couldn't stop it. Involuntary squeezes. Spasms, as if trying to force the rabbit out. But it only served to pleasure him and encourage him to stay in.

The rabbit sighed with bliss, murmuring, "Relax ... "

Nodding, Ross did so, and the clenching eased up. He cast his tail around the male's hips.

Beneath them, Aria was getting incredibly turned on.

The mouse chittered. Her walls were massaging him, almost tightening. Was she really that close already? "Oh-h, gosh ... "

"My boys," she whispered possessively, voice taking on a sultry, husky tone. She tried to arch, buck up against Ross. Only moved his body a few inches. But, as worked up as she was, as aroused as they all were? Inches this way and that produced endless miles of pleasure. So, she bucked up again. "Oh, my boys ... "

"Aria ... mm-h." Ross began to thrust, or try to. Grinding down. He'd move forward.

Elim would move with him, synching with and then countering his movements. Ross would hump into Aria. He'd pull back. Elim would push into him, his paws reaching past the mouse and to his fellow snow rabbit. He rubbed her sides. Her shoulders.

Aria hugged Ross with her thighs. Her foot-paws and heels digging up into Elim.

They continued to rock together.

Short, brief thrusts.

A whole lot of grinding.

Whining.

The air so heavy.

Aria's face in moonlight, shining. Scrunching, joyously. Her ears stiffened. Her hard, sensitive nipples trapped against Ross's sliding chest-fur. And, without warning, it hit her. Like those waves out in the sea. She was having an orgasm. Sweaty paws, wilting whiskers. Bobtail trapped between her backside and the bed. She moaned, loudly. Not sounding or looking like a captain of a very modern, powerful starship tasked with defending a wide swath of space.

None of them behaving like officers.

But like animals.

Ross, caught between the dual sensation of her squeezing walls and the battering of his prostate by Elim's blunt, dribbling head, froze, shivered, feeling suspended in time. How was this even possible? How did I get talked into doing this? I can't believe I'm doing this! Why didn't I do it before! He twitched all over and ejaculated, flooding the female's womb, painting her walls with white.

He squeaked like crazy, nibbling, gnawing on her shoulder with his buckteeth. Struggling for air. Breathe! Panting on his mate's neck. Breathe. That's it. Hugging her tight, he felt, with each spurt, his tail-hole clench like a vice around Elim, who was beginning to grind quite forcefully against him. The weight and heat of him. So reassuring. And his strong scent.

The male snow rabbit grunted. Several times. Then sighed with immense satisfaction, eyes rolling back. Leaving his seed in Ross's backside. "Mm-f. Mm. Mm-h ... "

Aria's head rolled aside.

Ross peppered her neck with kisses, then stopped to pant deliriously.

The three of them laid there for a few minutes.

Elim pulled out first, giving another, softer grunt before rolling onto his back to Aria's right. His bare, toned chest heaved. He bent his knees and planted his bare foot-paws on the bed. Fur looking whiter than normal in the slivers of moonlight that pierced inside through the fluttery curtains. "My, my ... "

Ross pulled out of Aria, next, and rolled to her left. He laid on his side rather than his back, rubbing at her belly, combing through her loin-fur.

"You were both splendid," she finally breathed.

"Thank you," Ross whispered back.

"As were you," said Elim. "The both of you."

"I've never done that before." Ross, again. They'd had threesomes, of course. Several times. In several different ways. Double-penetrating Aria. The mouse penetrating her while he suckled on Elim. But this was new. He felt a little sore and tight beneath the tail, but Elim had been so gentle. Surely, that wouldn't last long.

"Did you like it?"

"I, uh, I think so, yeah."

"You sounded as if you did."

"My ears are still blushing," Ross admitted. He could feel the heat in them. It was still seeping down into his face.

"I'm afraid I'm lazy with afterglow," Aria said. "Will someone fetch me some water?"

"Yes, ma'am." Elim hopped up before Ross could, padding to the food processor. Ordering cold glasses of water. A humming noise. And he brought two back.

Aria sat up and accepted one, scooting back to lean against the headboard of the bed. She stretched her legs and curled her toes.

Ross sprawled across her lower half, head on her belly. He sipped some water. A third of his glass. Then handed it to Elim, who drank the rest of it and laid back down.

Aria gulped down her entire glass on her own. Snow rabbits weren't accustomed to such heat. And, even during nightfall, the temperature on this world was muggy. The air heavy with moisture. Their pelts were matted with sweat. "Mm. Well ... " She held her empty glass with both paws. Then set it aside and put one paw on Ross's shoulder. The other on Elim's.

"What's on your mind?" her first officer asked, glancing up at her. Looking at her breasts. They hung so heavily. He wanted to lift them. Cup them. Kiss them. Normally, he would. But he would leave that for Ross this time. He could see the mouse eying them, as well. He's her mate. I'm just their lover. I care about them both too much to hog the limelight. There's always next time.

"For the first time in so long? Nothing is on my mind. I feel like I could float. On water. In the sky. That everything has the potential, rather than to be dark and disturbing, to be sweet and succulent, instead."

"That's called optimism," Elim told her, bobtail flickering.

"Is it?" She gave him a wry glance. "Perhaps I really did need a vacation ... " She rubbed at Ross's ears. And strummed Elim's whiskers.

The mouse beamed, looking at her adoringly. At the same breasts Elim had been admiring. But then up to her eyes. Her face. He hadn't seen Aria this relaxed since Arctic had launched after the wasp war. He'd been so worried about her lately. The stress of her job. The weight of High Command security on her shoulders. I wish I could help her more. The best I can do is love her. I worry that's not enough.

They laid and nuzzled, idly, for a while, before Elim raised up to hop out of bed again. He made quite a show of stretching, which both of his companions enjoyed, before sighing and saying, "I should shower and dress. And return to the shuttle-port."

"Why?" Ross asked immediately, brimming with disappointment. He reached a paw for the male snow rabbit, pleading, "Don't go ... "

Elim kissed his fingers and then touched them to the mouse's sniffy nose. A gesture of extreme affection. "I should return to the ship. I'd intended to take my leave every other day, rather than in one block. I prefer it that way." Spacing it out made it seem to last longer. "Besides, we don't want Dr. Sani running things while the senior staff is away, now, do we?" She was a bit of a crank.

The mouse's whiskers twitched. A weak laugh. "I suppose not ... "

Aria hugged her mouse and nodded to Elim. "Thank you for joining us on such short notice. We both appreciate it."

"It was my pleasure." He bent over, bobtail flagging. And then stood back up, loping into the bathroom. The sonic shower could be heard a few seconds later.

Ross mouthed and lip-nibbled at Aria's breasts. As he'd been wanting to do all this time. A nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling on it. He suckled, let it go, and ran his nose along the other mound. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she replied, more warmly than the air that filled the room.

"What do you want to do tomorrow? More swimming? There's a mountain trail to hike. I was reading about it in the lobby." Lots of flashing, fancy computer screens, some of them holographic, were constantly highlighting various attractions.

"Those sound like wonderful options. Let's play it by ear. Let things happen as they will."

"Well, uh, when Elim leaves, will you take a shower with me?" He mumbled, bashfully. "I feel like a total mess ... "

"Of course," she promised, fighting a yawn. Covering her muzzle with the back of a paw. "Mm. If I don't fall asleep first ... "

"I missed you so much," Herkimer said, squeezing the squirrel tight. Locking muzzles before she could reply.

"Mm." The red squirrel's eyes flew open. Then fluttered. She kissed him back, then broke it to sigh on his chin. Their whiskers tangled and touched. "I missed you, too, mousey." She grabbed hold o' his ropy tail and stroked it. Base to tip. In a corridor in the docking ring, just outside the airlock Reverie was moored at.

He sighed. "How long do you have?"

"Perry gave me half-an-hour. We got a lot of cargo to unload. Have to start as soon as possible so we can be done before night. Then I'll have two days completely off. Then load up cargo and, uh, head off for another trip."

Herkimer's expression sank.

"It won't be for that long. The depot we're headed to is much closer, this time."

His smile returned. "Well, that's good." He dipped his chin. "I know I'm, uh, being a little selfish, wanting you around all the time. I shouldn't be jealous of your job. You don't act jealous of mine."

"We'll make this work, mousey. It'll just take time to adjust, okay?"

"I know. And, in a strange way, being apart from you for days or even weeks, makes it all the sweeter when I get to see you again."

"That's one way to think of it." Her rusty-red tail fluffing and fluttering, the squirrel held him close. Just stared into his eyes.

"Did anything interesting happen on your trip?" the mouse asked, brightly, whiskers a-twitch with energy.

Talkeetna hesitated. She certainly wasn't going to tell the mouse Reverie had nearly been captured by pirates. Amongst other things. "No. Just the usual, really." It wasn't technically a lie. They usually did run into trouble out there. She was only protecting him. "What about here?"

"We got a few more visitors. We accepted our first new crew-fur, today. An otter. He's, uh ... well, he does lots of stuff. Says he's a Renaissance fur. Crafts, art. He's a tailor, too. Makes clothes. He's going to set up a sundries shop on the Promenade. Says he's aware business will be slow at first, but he wants to be part of a community again. I guess the wasps destroyed the world he was from."

After the otter had left the room, Sheila recalled what Pyro had told her when they'd reunited on Luminous. The wasps, on their way to High Command and Federation space, had indeed cut through the UT and destroyed an entire colony. Pyro's home. And countless ships, including the Red Rocket. They'd blown up a star and used the shockwave to obliterate everything. Only a fraction of the population had escaped. Sheila considered it a blessing in disguise that she'd been captured by the insects months before that. After all the destruction she'd seen, she didn't know if she could've handled all that. It might've pushed her completely over the edge. And she probably would've died on Pyro's ship.

Barrow had read the otter's mind, saw nothing suspicious worth reporting.

"I'm glad the station is finally bearing fruit," Talkeetna said. The stronger Redwing got, the safer a base it would be, and Reverie might be able to profit from that. And stay anchored a little longer between runs. It was good for her and Herkimer. Peregrine and Petra. It was good for everyone.

"You said we had half an hour?"

"Well, twenty, twenty-five minutes, now. But Peregrine's probably humping Petra silly as we speak. And he's generally late coming back from that." Talkeetna giggled. "I assume you have permission from Graham?"

"I do. He's the best."

"Well, still, let's not take advantage of our commanding officers' generosities. Let's make it quick." She bumped noses. "Your quarters or mine?"

"Mine!" the mouse insisted, taking her paw and scurrying down the corridor.

"Eek! Slow down!" The red squirrel giggle-squeaked and scampered with him, bushy tail swooshing behind them both.

She looked up. "Ah, there you are. Come in." A hopeful pause. "Did any of our plants take root?" Janna asked, in the process of getting undressed. She was down to panties and a bra.

Marcus hesitated, standing in the doorway to her quarters. Looking up and down the corridor. Their ship, currently in a known pirate zone, was a week out from Redwing Station. No destination in mind. Just hovering. Waiting. Biding time while all the tendrils they extended gathered what needed to be gathered. It was the middle of the night.

"What's wrong, now? You're so stiff. And I don't mean in the fun way."

He knew Janna well enough by now to know this 'show' was very much on purpose. She could've waited until morning to ask about all this. But, no, she wanted the upper wing. By holding this meeting in her quarters, with everyone else on the ship asleep, and with him flustered by her half-naked body? She'd achieved that. She already had him at a disadvantage. Even though he'd not yet said a word. He was beginning to hate her.

"Marcus?"

He glanced to the Syndicate agent's bed, half-expecting to find one of the pirates they'd taken prisoner a week ago. The ones they hadn't killed when crippling and boarding their ship, they'd taken prisoner. She'd personally seen to the interrogation of the captain. Mind-raping him, torturing him for any ounce of information he might have about Reverie or Redwing Station, and ultimately reforming him into a mindless sexual toy. Then discarding him at an abandoned mining facility a day later when he was too far gone up to be useful. He was probably dead now, too.

'They're pirates, Marcus,' she'd said, afterward, in that erudite way of hers. 'A criminal element. They were going to destroy us before we turned the tables on them. Someone has to punish them. Show them who's in control. Why not me?'

'The Syndicate exists to ensure that bats are never persecuted again. So that we can use our powers as nature intended. For pleasure and protection. And while I agree that force is necessary to maintain our holdings, you seem to relish it far too much.'

'I simply enjoy my job. All furs should be so lucky.'

"Marcus? The mole. Is he in place?" she demanded, jarring him out of his memories.

The hesitation was too long.

"I see." She gave him a toothy, threatening look. "You realize I can read every thought in your mind? I can pluck every word from that brain, syllable by syllable. So, why stay silent?"

"You forget that I can read your thoughts just as well."

Janna spread her wing-arms in a false gesture of openness. "I have nothing to hide. Why should I care?" She padded toward him. Slowly. Purposefully. "All my thoughts are open to you. Even the more ... " She licked her lips with that long, wily bat-tongue of hers. " ... salacious ones."

"I am not attracted to you, Janna," he maintained.

"Well. Not yet," she cooed, barely containing a demented giggle.

He didn't falter. You didn't become a hired gun of the Quorum by cow-towing to those you were sent to deal with. "You seem to think that you're in charge here. I have jurisdiction over you. And you know it."

"You've been following me for weeks, now. And reported back to the Quorum countless times. I've yet to receive a reprimand. Nothing's changed. And you know why?" She came up to him, very close. Breathing on his neck. "Because they know I'll do whatever it takes to secure the best future for our species." She licked Marcus' neck.

His heart beat a little faster. She wasn't producing a numbing agent. Her biting instinct hadn't been triggered. There was no way she would be crazy enough to use those fangs. Was there?

"The High Command is trying to interfere with our jurisdiction in this region. They don't recognize our authority. We will," she hissed, grazing her fangs along his neck, until her lips were on his chin, "be taken seriously."

Marcus cleared his throat and pushed her away with his wing-arms. She was attractive, physically. There was no denying that. But there was nothing about her personality that he connected to. And when, as a bat, sex involved the linking of minds and bodies? Well, you better as hell like your partner's personality.

She huffed. Not used to being turned down. Her temper briefly flared. "Get someone aboard Redwing! It can't be that difficult. We've squeezed information out of much harder stones." The Quorum would never devote the Syndicate's resources to a takeover or attack of anything, let alone an old, decrepit station, until every possible bit of information about the matter was gleaned. They never made ill-informed moves. That's how they'd come to be so powerful. By being ruthlessly efficient. Leaving nothing on the bone.

"Of course, Janna." He turned to go.

"And Marcus?"

The blue bat looked over his shoulder.

"I heard that." She stared him down, rubbing her wings up and down her body.

Marcus just clenched his jaw and left.