FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

They were on the upper level of the Promenade, overlooking the still-sparse pedestrian zone. The friendly otter, Dobson, purveyor of sundries, was setting up his place down there. He was the only permanent civilian resident on the station so far. He looked up and waved a webbed paw. Smiling, as always.

Graham just nodded back, politely.

"Who's him?"

"Pardon?" the snow rabbit asked.

"Otter, there. He new?"

"Yes. He is a merchant. Hopefully, more will join us over time." Things were coming along steadily, if not slowly. In a few months, who knew? Maybe Redwing Station would be a thriving thoroughfare. And maybe the High Command's paw-print and early warning beacon in the UT would be secure. He wasn't about to bet on it, though. Too many variables still at play. "Are you sure this is no trouble, Jale?"

"Naw, Perry said it was fine," the wolverine insisted, casually.

"I know. I talked with him earlier," Graham said. "But it's still your decision."

"Sure, I gotta get customed to this place, don't I? Gunna be spendin' more time here an' all."

"Accustomed," the white-furred male corrected.

"Sure, that, too." The predator looked around, nodding. Chewing on something. He offered the snow rabbit a piece. "Want some?"

"What is it?" The commander wrinkled his nose.

"Jerky stuff."

"I am a vegetarian."

"Ha, really?"

"Yes."

"Huh." Jale took another ravenous bite for himself. Chew, chew. "So, that grey rabbit, yeah? She's the one I'm replacin'?"

"Only temporarily." Thank heavens. "And she's a silver hare."

"Rabbits, hares. Same difference."

Graham made a face, trying to hide his displeasure. "Not quite ... "

"Dunno how you can tell. Guess ya hafta seem 'em naked to know, right?" The predator ribbed the rabbit with an elbow. "Heh."

Graham blew out a breath. The stocky wolverine wasn't big on tact. While some furs seemed charmed by Jale's obliviousness, the commander was simply tolerant of it. I suppose Peregrine can't be picky when choosing his crew. The UT is somewhat anarchistic. Many probably don't have access to great educations. And the freighter Reverie is no doubt a much more informal atmosphere than a High Command posting. "As a piece of friendly advice: just don't let Sheila hear you say any of this. She's got a much quicker trigger-finger than I do."

"She havin' her 'time,' then? That why I'm fillin' in? That's what Spots said."

"Advent?" The snow rabbit wrinkled his nose, ears stiffening. "I wouldn't exactly call her a reliable fount of information. But, yes, in this case, she's correct."

"Ah, she drama?" the wolverine guessed, picking up on the other's tone.

"She is a troubled individual," Graham said, diplomatically. And a master manipulator. But she's also a member of my crew. I just don't know what we're going to do with her. Surely, she won't be content to play by the rules indefinitely.

"Don't worry, cap'n. I'm above eruption."

"Corruption."

"Oh. What'd I say?"

"Nothing." A slow, deep breath. "And I'm not actually a captain. My rank is commander. But, unless it's under duress, you may call me Graham."

"M'kay."

"If you have any questions or concerns, consult with one of my senior staff. I have several sub-space conference calls with Captain Aria and Admiral Flint, today."

Jale had no idea who those furs were, so he just nodded and smiled. "Sure. I got this."

Graham couldn't resist a restrained, mellow smile. "Very well. Dismissed."

The wolverine bounded off. He wanted to meet that otter down there.

The snow rabbit blew out a breath. And his comm-badger chirruped. He tapped it. "Yes?"

"Just a heads-up on your conference call. It begins in five minutes. I already have the other two on hold," said Seldovia, the former princess and Redwing's current communications officer.

"Good. I'll be right there."

"Also, um ... "

"Yes?"

" ... well, it might be nothing, but I'm picking up some odd sub-space static emanating from the station."

"Couldn't it be random EM interference? Or background radiation? Celestial phenomenon, even?"

"I've been doing this long enough to weed those out," the skunk defended. "I'm pretty sure it's a coded transmission designed to look random."

"Have you detected this before?" Graham asked, wearing a troubled expression as he loped for the nearest lift. His bobtail flickered to attention.

"No."

"How many furs are currently on Redwing?"

"We have ourselves, the Reverie crew, and two trading vessels that docked this morning." She blew out a breath. "Forty?"

"Perhaps it's one of our guests, then? You know how things are in the UT. Furs have trust issues." Because of the lack of social stability. And the Syndicate. "We have no proof that it's nefarious."

"We don't have any proof to the contrary, either. With your permission, I'd like to pinpoint it before it stops. See who's behind it."

"Of course. I'll be up there soon." He tapped his badge and cut the channel. Glancing around the lift. "Ops." And as it whisked him away, the snow rabbit crossed his arms. In some ways, this job had been easier when the station was an abandoned, uninteresting wreck. But, then, he hadn't entered the High Command's 'command' track because he was lazy.

It was too much. Oh, far too much, this time!

Sky-blue hips ...

The pleasure.

... grinding against silver.

It was numbing.

His loins churning ...

She couldn't feel her toes.

... between her open thighs.

Sheila tried to suppress the instinctual panic.

The tingling, overwhelmed hare wanted to plead with him. Wanted to beg. Barrow! Oh, Barrow, stop! I'm going to forget myself. Don't let me drown in you. Don't let ... oh, god. His fangs in her neck, inches deep. His breath rushing down her throat. They'd been linked for nearly a minute, now.

The bat unabashedly humping her.

The hare feeling it.

Her walls.

His shaft.

His perspective becoming hers. Every feeling in his body instantaneously copied and sent to her brain, which, not knowing any better, transmitted those feelings straight into her nervous system as if they belonged to her. Oh. Fucking. God ...

... the bat whined, hotly, feeling it, too. Only the other way around. Her hardened, heaving breasts. Her tall, stiffening ears. That pussy. His body shuddered as he bore her sensations.

Sheila's paws grabbed, clutched at his back. Sweaty. Frantic. She felt his cock, now. Fully. Just as if it were attached to her own body. And this was in addition to her own sensations, which she retained. I'm him? And I'm me! I'm feeling the both of us. How is this possible? And, to top it off, I'm in heat. Never had anything felt so intense. And, in the midst of the physical onslaught, the memories came.

She remembered the first patient she'd ever treated, and the sense of pride when that patient had thanked him. Or her. Me? This never happened to me. Patient? This is Barrow's memory. And it was followed by more. A flood of them. Past lovers. And the first time he'd woken up next to her. Soon, she couldn't consciously choose whether or not she was remembering her past or his.

Barrow remembered waking up in bed with a male wolf. Red eyes. Lazy grin. Pyro. Is he my lover? Or just some stupid rogue who's making it all up as he goes along? The Federation abandoned me, though. Pyro hasn't. Doesn't that count for something? Doesn't he deserve my loyalty? And then the bridge called. Something suspicious needed his attention. So, the gregarious predator hopped out of bed, pulled on a uniform, and went to the bridge. And Barrow, promising to join him in a minute, got up and went to the bathroom. And looked into the mirror. And saw Sheila's face.

The hare could sense the bat reliving the moment.

She couldn't stop it.

I'm so, so embarrassed he's seeing that ...

Don't be, he thought to her, without words. Don't be. Please.

Barrow ...

Sheila.

Wave after wave.

Physical, mental, emotional.

It all crashed together, starting to swirl. The physical element was the strongest, though. Always was. It rose back to the fore in a ferocious way, masking all rational thought, encouraging them to fuck with abandon. And they did. Like animals, they grabbed, stroked, kissed. Bumping, grinding, whimpering, whining! Until they exploded. Each in orgasm. Their own. Each other's. Like fireworks. Eyes closed from the light and paws trembling from the fury.

The pleasure was divine.

Have I died?

Is this heaven, Sheila thought.

Only if you let it be, Barrow thought back. Let it be. Let it.

The hare panted for breath, throat dry. Heart hammering. I can't move. Oh, god, I can't move.

Just relax.

She nodded, and then remembered he still had her fangs in his neck. "S-sorry," she mumbled.

He managed a hazy half-smile. Don't worry about it.

She licked her lips, staring past his shoulder at the ceiling. They were in their quarters. The doors locked. She was in heat. Crazily in heat. But, right now, felt satisfied. Quenched. But it was only an illusion. The eye of the storm. In a few hours, she'd become mad with lust again, nature pushing her toward reproduction. It's a good thing bats and hares aren't compatible. I can't imagine having a baby with him.

I heard that ...

Oh, fuck. Dammit. "I didn't mean ... " She was still finding her breath. "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant we're not ... " We're not parent material. And, even if we were, Redwing and the UT in general is no place for a family. It's not safe out here. I don't want kids. "Barrow?"

He finally withdrew his fangs, slowly, gently. Leaving little to no visible mark. And no lingering pain. The enzymes in the saliva he'd coated the spot with before biting had seen to that.

She shivered as she felt their consciousnesses pull apart. And for a few seconds, she felt disoriented. Lonely. Empty. Was the experience that addictive? "Barrow, I'm ... I, uh ... " I didn't mean it like that, she thought. But he didn't answer her mentally this time.

" ... not offended, hun," he replied out loud. Hun. He'd taken to calling her that the past day or so. In private. "I don't really want pups, myself. I just ... " He pressed his nose to her neck, breathing deeply of her scent. " ... we're not that different, are we?" He snaked his wily tongue to her lips.

She shook.

He licked them.

And Sheila opened her muzzle, hugging the blue-furred bat, desperately drawing him into a kiss. That was the bad thing about being bitten. You couldn't kiss during sex. But they made up for that, now.

Smack, suckle.

Pant.

Stroke.

Wrap, wing-arms around her back.

She arched herself to better settle into them, avoiding eye contact.

"Why are you being so shy?" he whispered.

"You already know the answer to that," she grumbled.

"Is that going to be your comeback for everything?" he mused. "Just because I 'know' stuff doesn't mean we can't communicate."

Then a loud sigh. Can't a fur just enjoy their afterglow? Why do we have to talk? "You've turned me into an open book. It's the last thing I thought I would ever be."

"And what's an open book?"

"Vulnerable." Her old self would've cursed and damned her for being in this position. Have I lost my edge?

"I'm just as open to you. Nothing taken without something given. That's how it works with bats."

"We both know that's not true." Some bats, notably the members of the dangerous, powerful Syndicate, believed relationships, business, friendly, or sexual, should be weighed heavily in their own favor.

"It's true with me." He'd never made it a secret that he was a rogue. He didn't believe in hiding or suppressing his powers just to make 'regular' species comfortable. I'm not going to bottle myself in. But I'm not going to pretend I'm better, either. I'm not going to put others at a disadvantage. "Tell me you know that by now ... "

"I do," she breathed.

He kissed her again. He was shrinking. And the cocktail of his seed and her nectar was oozing out of her, forcing him to pull back before he simply flopped out. We'll have to shower. We'll have to change the sheets. Many times over. But it's not dirty to me. I've never felt cleaner. Never felt purer. I need to tell her how I feel. Out loud. Once and for all.

The hare's nose flared for breath, whiskers twitching against his cheeks.

"I love you, Sheila," he murmured against her chin.

The security officer's shields went up. But not in time. The words made it through, to her heart. He'd hinted as much. And, being a keen observer, she'd picked up on it. But this was the first time he'd been so blunt about it. And now his deep-blue eyes were looking into hers. He was waiting for her to say it back. He already knows how I feel. He's been in my head. He was just there! Why does he need me to say it?

At her silence, his muzzle fell. Like a boy who'd had his heart broken for the first time. He seemed paralyzed, unsure what to do next.

Voice shaking and eyes watering, the hare, clutched at her lover's back. "Barrow. I, uh ... " She tensed. "I'll hate you if you make me say it." Months and light years from where we met, we're still here. Caught in each other's gravity. And I do. I do love him. Lord help me.

The bat scrunched his muzzle, clearly upset. "They're just words."

"Exactly. So, it doesn't matter if I say them or not."

"But it does!"

"You just said they're ... "

" ... just ... just words, yes," he stammered, pushing himself off her body. Scooting to the side of the bed. "Words, when spoken, that take on the symbolism of surrender. You say 'I love you' as a gesture." A pause. Calm down. Breathe. "It means something to me. I'm so fucking ... I'm so hopeless for you. It happened gradually, but it happened. I can't live without you. You're all I have out here." Her and Herkimer. Of everyone on the crew, he was closest to them. "Sheila, god dammit ... "

"You know how I feel," she repeated, barely audible. Covering her breasts with a sheet, as if suddenly feeling exposed.

"It's not enough," he enunciated, trying to control himself, "for me to take it from your head. I want you to volunteer it."

The hare closed her eyes, ears standing tall. Hearing everything. Every word. Every breath. Even as she wanted to shut it all out.

"Does that make sense?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"And ... and, hell, I'll spell it out on your dick with my tongue. I just don't like saying it out loud."

"Why?"

"You. Know," she replied, tersely, "why."

He threw his wing-arms up, billowing the warm, heavily scented air around the bed. "This is torture! The female I care about most in the universe ... and it's you. Stubborn-ass you with your fluffy tail stuck upwards from the stick in your ... "

" ... shut up." She kicked at him with her large, furry foot-paws.

" ... ass. Ouch!" A huff. "It's just my luck."

The hare, then, did something a bit surprising. She giggled.

He blinked, settling on paws and knees beside her. "What? What's so funny?"

"Nothing." A deep, resigned breath. "I don't know. This is just so silly."

"Never heard you call anything silly," Barrow said.

"Now you have." She looked him over. His naked figure. It was nice. It was very, very nice. And so blue. And warm. And, "Come 'ere."

"Stop hiding your breasts from me, and I will," he demanded.

She grinned and tossed the sheet aside, revealing her perky, chrome-colored breasts. And her short, soft pelt. "Happy?"

He crawled over to her, straddling her hips. Almost as if he was the female and she was the male. He looked down, expression softening back into a romantic veneer. "Sheila, I'm serious. What we just did? I mean ... what we've been doing? It's incredibly intimate." And, damn, it felt good. "I wouldn't do that with just anyone." Yeah, he'd done it with Advent, but that had been a horrible slip-up, a moment of desperation. A mistake. It won't happen again. I promise. This was different. Sheila's different. "I only want to do it with you."

"I know." She took a deep breath and replied, slowly, "And I, uh ... I'm partial to that arrangement." When's the last time I thought about a male other than him? Like it or not, we make a good pair. We're the two most-cynical members of this crew. The most worldly. We've seen things the others haven't. We see eye-to-eye.

"Do you love me?" he demanded.

Sheila closed her eyes, silvery fur matted with sweat, and reached a paw to his chest. Flattening it above his heart before running her fingers through his pelt. A claw-tip drawing imaginary letters to imaginary words. 'I hate you,' she drew, but said aloud, "Yeah. I love you."

"Not so hard, was it?"

"Not as hard as some things have been, today."

He laughed. He'd never seen this side of Sheila. The cute side. He moved a wing-tip to fondle her cheek. His expression becoming quite serious, again. He didn't want her to think he was joking around. "Will you be my mate?"

Her paw shook. "Do we have to call it that ... "

"Mm. Not this again."

"I'm just saying," she started. But he cut her off.

"It's not that big a leap, is it? From admitting our feelings to ratifying them?"

"Sex isn't ratification?"

"It's only part of it, and you know it. If it were just sex, well ... " You could get that from anyone. But I only want her. She's just admitted to wanting me. There's only one thing left. The bat tilted his head, fangs showing. Snout sniffing the air, impatiently. "What'll it be?"

After a moment, she began to 'draw' on his chest-fur, again. That periwinkle 'slate.' 'In your dreams.' But whispered, "Of course I will."

"Oh ... " He choked on the word, abandoning it and hunching over to pepper her face with kisses and licks. "I can't tell you how happy I am."

"Wait, wait ... "

"What?" He pulled up.

"I spelled all this stuff out on you. You have to spell it out on me."

He gave her a look, already catching her drift. "What ... "

"Fair is fair. Clean up your mess," she cooed, bending her knees and pointing down. "And spell everything correctly. You have a good, long tongue. No excuse for mistakes."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Hmm. Yes, ma'am," he murred, bending down to oblige.

The hare allowed herself to beam. To glow. To bask in what she felt. What he made her feel. This was a culmination of a long, turbulent courtship. There was no returning, now. But that didn't mean the journey was over. The last time she'd loved someone, life had gone to hell soon after. Love was unpredictable. Unstable. Just like the universe itself. My job is to handle and deal with potential threats, and how can I do that when I harbor such a weakness for someone in my heart?

It's a gamble.

But at least it came with an experienced tongue.

"What's wrong with my quarters?"

"Nothing."

"They're bigger, y'know," Petra told him, staying a step or two behind. Navigating the now-tidy corridors of Redwing. "An' at least my bed doesn't creak."

"A noisy bed means only you're doing something right," Peregrine replied, glancing over his shoulder. The mouse winked.

She chuckled.

The mix-furred mouse took a deep breath, rounding a corner as they neared the airlock Reverie was docked at. "Me and Reverie have been through a lot. Life and death. For years, now. It's my home." Was it odd to think of a run-down ship as more of a 'home' than any planet? Or the place of your birth? "It's where I met you, too. Where we first made love." So much personal history. "So, yeah, I guess I feel more 'myself' when I'm on my own ship."

"Uh-huh." She wasn't buying it. Not entirely. "An' I bet your entire crew's on Redwing right now, aren't they?" the savvy rat guessed. "Which means we'll have the ship to ourselves."

The cheeky mouse stopped and smirked, turning to his mate. "Well ... "

She touched her pink, sniffy nose to his. "We aren't goin' to your quarters, are we?" she whispered. "Engine room? Sickbay? Bridge?"

"Been ages since I've had 'captain's chair' sex," the mouse murmured, lustily.

"Sometimes, I think you got the soul of a rat," she teased.

"I'm all mouse, baby." He kissed and nibbled at her neck. "Let me prove it to you."

Petra gestured at the airlock with a plain-brown paw. "If you insist ... "

"Seldovia to Jale."

No response.

"Jale, this is Ops. Respond, please." The skunk sighed, exchanging an annoyed glance with Annika.

"He's not as efficient as Sheila, is he?" the prim female snow rabbit observed, from her station in front of Graham's office. Through the windowed doors, he could be seen conversing with his superiors. Annika had insisted he not be bothered with this. Not until his conference was done.

"That's being polite." The ex-Fed may have been hard-nosed, at times, but nothing got by her. She rarely had lapses.

"At least he's well-meaning."

"Jale?" Seldovia repeated, urgently.

"Hey, yo!" came the wolverine's late, breathless reply. "What's up?"

"I've been trying to contact you for the last minute. What the hell are you doing?"

"Guardin' the station."

She didn't ask how, in particular, he was accomplishing this. Just said, "I need you to go to the habitat ring. Immediately. There's a coded signal emanating from some abandoned guest quarters. Section C-8. Room ten. No one's been assigned to those quarters."

"Someone tryin' to throw you off-track? Yeah, I see. Can't ya just shut down the comm grid?" the wolverine asked.

"If I do that, it'll tip off the fur who's sending it. They may make a run for it. Easier to catch them in the act."

"Hmm. So, who's that, then?"

Seldovia clenched her jaw. And told him.

"How'd you get this frequency, by the way?"

"You have your ways of gathering classified information, I have mine. The real question is: what's in it for me?" she asked, briefly inspecting her sharp, hooking claws. A gesture of intimidation.

It didn't work. "Don't play coy," the fur on the view-screen replied. "You're the one who contacted us. Which indicates you already know the 'answer' to that question."

The jaguar stood up straight. Making eye contact. "I want a ship," she demanded.

"Why?"

"That's my business. But those are the terms."

"Why not just keep the mouse's once you steal it?"

"It's junk," Advent scoffed. "I want something better."

The other fur, blue muzzle scrunching, considered for a moment. "There are several freighters, formerly operated by pirates, that have been ... vacated," he explained, darkly, "by their crews. You can have your pick. You give us Petra and her mate and pave the way for us to control the station, and we let you walk with the ship you've chosen."

Advent's heart began beating a bit faster. She squinted, crossing her spotted arms. They'd agreed to this awfully quickly. She'd expected an argument. Some concern, even. But this bat showed a complete lack of fear or concern. It was unnerving. "And why should I trust you?"

The periwinkle-furred bat smiled, smoothly. "Again. You came to us, Miss Advent. And you did so because you know what we're capable of. You know we're coming. And that we'll win. But you can hasten our victory for us. Make it easier, a little less bloody. Curry our favor. And, in exchange, you can keep your 'precious' mind un-violated and intact." The bat tilted his head. "You figured that was a better option than sitting around and waiting to fight for the losing side. You'll trust us because you have no other choice. And because your hate for your friends is stronger than your dislike of us." A knowing pause. "Am I right?"

The feline's breasts heaved. How did he know all this?

"Good. We're on the same page, then. To reiterate: you bring us the traitor Petra and the one she loves, and we'll give you the best of the pirate ships. Then our association is finished."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Why do I need to come to you? Why can't you come here, first? I could sabotage certain systems. I could ... "

"We aren't ready for that." The Syndicate didn't operate quickly. Everything happened deliberately, in stages. "We don't make first moves. We use our powers to force others do it for us. Once a clear opening on the board is evident, that's when we'll swoop in."

"That doesn't make any sense. You're not forcing me into anything."

"Not directly. But the fear of having us in your mind is influencing your actions."

The jaguar's eyes darted.

"You've had one of us in your mind before, haven't you? Recently?" he suggested. "It can be a very enjoyable experience if you abandon yourself to it. However, if you struggle? Well, it's interesting how close the line between pain and pleasure really is."

"Look." She stared down the bat and hissed, "If you want my help, you'll cease your psychiatric evaluation. I'm not into your species' fucking head-games." She didn't trust bats. Any of them. Maybe this was a mistake. But she had to get out of here. She'd become increasingly restless the past few weeks. I can't take it anymore!

"Very well. Apologies." A head-tilt. "Bring the rodents to these coordinates ... " He tapped his big, bendy thumbs on some panels, sending her the location. "Now, I suggest you don't contact us again until we have what we want. I trust you know what will happen if you fail to deliver?"

Advent opened her muzzle to reply but the bat cut the channel. Leaving her staring at a blank screen in a sparse, dimly-lit room. She sighed and rubbed at her eyes. There was a brief moment of regret. Perhaps I've gone too far? Maybe this isn't the right move? But what choice do I have? I don't fit in here! I've tried, but ... screw the Federation! They can goad someone else into taking her place with their false promises. And screw the hypocritical High Command for thinking they could simply stroll into lawless territory and not expect violent pushback. They knew the risks. I'm simply being smarter by striking a truce and getting out while I can. I'm a survivor.

"Computer," the spotted cat said. "Where are Petra and Peregrine?"

A chirrup. "On the freighter Reverie," came the cool, crisp reply.

Her eyes darted. Her mind raced. "Are they alone?"

"Affirmative."

"Perfect!" she breathed. Too perfect, perhaps. But she wasn't going to question it. Just board the ship, knock them out somehow. Undock. And make a run for it. There were no other ships in the area that could really chase them down. And no one would be expecting it. She'd have a huge head start.

She raced for the door. It swished open and ...

" ... hey, kitty." Jale pointed a phase pistol directly at her shocked face. And grinned, challengingly. "Goin' somewhere?"

"I almost believed you were as ruthless as me just then," Janna said, coming up behind him. Light years away, situated at the edge of a nebula. On their scout ship. They were in a conference room just off the bridge.

Marcus spun his swivel-chair around, facing the female operative. "I have the Syndicate's best interests at heart. You simply don't like my restraint. But it's better to use a scalpel than a rusty dagger. You get much better results."

The pink-furred bat pretended to pout. "Blah, blah, blah." Then gave him a twisted smile, slowly straddling his lap. "But precision is so clinical. We're animals, Marcus. Aren't we? We're meant to be a little wild." She grazed her fangs along his neck, sensually. "And, from what I just observed, you have a way with pussies."

He swallowed, becoming helplessly flustered. He didn't push her away, though. She'd only claim he 'assaulted' her. She was looking for any excuse to get him off her back. To send him back to the Quorum in an empty torpedo casing. "You've been trying to breed with me since I was assigned to you. I haven't been interested yet. And I never will be."

"Liar." She pushed her breasts to his chest. "You aren't flattered by my attention? Not even a little?" she cooed, wrapping her wing-arms around his shoulders.

"You're attractive," he admitted. Physically, anyway. "But your personality is poisonous."

"You wound me, Marcus." She leaned back a bit, putting a wing-arm over her heart. "Truly."

"I didn't know you were capable of being hurt."

"Oh, I am." She pitched forward and touched her snout to his, looking deeply into his eyes. "Everyone is. Some just hide it better than others."

He couldn't tell if this was a true moment of sincerity on her part, or just another in a long list of lies. But he felt her telepathic feelers crawling around the edge of his mind. And he immediately sent his own to meet hers. To push back. They wrestled, invisibly.

"Not all telepaths are created equal. Some of us just have an extra-special knack for using our powers ... "

"Is that a threat?"

"I can overwhelm you whenever I want."

"I highly doubt that," Marcus whispered. "If you could usurp me, you would've done so already. You wouldn't need to use your sexuality to relax my guard."

Janna's smiling veneer morphed into a scowl. She shoved his chest, pushing him back in his chair and getting off his lap. Turning her backside to him. "You're blind, Marcus. You have no idea the pleasure you're missing out on." Turning around again, she opened her cotton candy wing-arms to their full span. "I've had males on all fours, begging for me."

"Because they truly desired you? Or because you made them believe they did?"

"Desire is desire. As long as it's satisfied, the source is irrelevant." She paused. Then put him on the spot. "Speaking of desire: are you fucking my science officer?"

"What?"

"Someone on the ship bit her last night. And the night before that. And, well, you get the idea. Seems she's got quite a crush."

Marcus clenched his blue-furred jaw.

"Poor girl has an unfortunate tendency to daydream, though. She's not as disciplined as you or me. Every time she gets distracted, her thoughts leak out. I picked them up. And wouldn't you know it? The bat in her memories looks remarkably like you. Only with a lot less clothes." A smirk, glancing at Marcus' crotch and shrugging. "She obviously doesn't care about size."

The blue bat stood up, himself. And padded to her. Neither acknowledging or denying her accusation. Give her nothing. "If anything happens to me, the Quorum will only send someone else. And if you think I'm difficult to work with, wait until you have to deal with them." He took a slow breath. "As telepaths, we are all part of each other. We're bats," he emphasized. "We roost and rule together. You're not bigger than me or anyone else in the Syndicate."

She tilted her head. "What a quaint opinion. But before the end of this mission, you'll change your mind."

"And if I don't?"

She didn't respond directly. Only said, "It'll take the jaguar a few days to reach us, correct? Maybe even a week?"

It took him a moment to regain his focus on the mission at wing. "Depends on how quickly she's able to fulfill her part of the bargain. But, yes. And we're going to have one of the vacant pirate ships waiting for her."

"The Syndicate doesn't negotiate, Marcus," Janna insisted with a frown.

"No. But, since we can't control the entire universe, we need to have our word mean something when dealing with those outside our sphere of influence. We'll take Reverie and the rat and mouse and the jaguar will walk."

Janna padded back and forth, hugging her wing-arms around myself. "Alright. Fine. I agree with your reasoning. She walks. She gets her ship, as promised." The female bat's purple eyes sparkled with violent mirth. "But there's no reason her new vessel can't have a faulty warp core ... "

Marcus squinted.

"Agreed?"

He sighed and nodded. "Agreed."

Janna chittered. "Very well, then. And once we have Reverie, we'll use it to lead our armada for the final assault. Rather poetic, don't you think?"

"I don't care what it is. As long as the Syndicate succeeds."

"Spoken like a true patriot. We have that in common. Oh, and Marcus?" Janna said, striding toward the door. Back to the bridge. Her bridge. "Just so it's clear: I'm handling the interrogations of the rat and mouse when they arrive. Exclusively. And if you try to prevent that, I may just have to 'replace' my science officer."

He tensed as she said that.

"I'd really hate to imagine you spending your nights alone."

"That's low! Even for you."

"You're getting attached to her. I'm exploiting that for my gain. Maybe next time, you'll be more careful. Consider it a lesson."

"Lesson? That love is a weakness?" he scoffed. Janna didn't even know what love was. Did her perversion know no bounds?

"Hmm. I was actually going to say that 'no one gets the best of me.' But, yeah, that works, too," she said, brightly, leaving with a wing-flapping flourish.

Marcus just stared out the window. At the cold, cold stars. And closed his eyes. And cursed.

The mouse cleared his throat and swallowed, licking his lips. "W-well ... "

Petra pressed her nose to his cheek, mumbling informally, "Everything ya dreamed of, cap'n?"

"Definitely," he murred. Doing it in the middle of the bridge, in his chair, had given the whole act an undeniably edgy shade of excitement. "Thank you, lieutenant-commander."

"Yessir," she slurred, giving him a wet, sloppy kiss.

"Mm-h."

She smiled. Lifting a paw to rub between his big, dishy ears. "I love ya so much, mousey. I'm glad we found each other again."

"I love you, too," he breathed, caressing her sides.

"How sweet," came a third voice. Dripping with sarcasm and emerging from the shadows at the rear of the room.

The two rodents twitched and jerked in alarm, gazes spinning to the shadowy source.

"Advent?" Petra snapped, quickly covering her breasts with an arm. A modest instinct more than an effective shield. When had she gotten here? "What the fuck?! You crazy bitch!"

Peregrine's ears burned red with embarrassment. "Get off my bridge," the mouse demanded.

The jaguar, nasty claw-marks on her cheek and bloody gashes up and down her uniform, ignored them both. Raised Jale's phase pistol. And fired without further word. Zapping the rat. Then the mouse. They slumped unconscious, falling out of the chair. To the floor, naked and stunned. She walked past their unconscious bodies on the way to the helm, mumbling in annoyance. Fucking freighter. Environmental controls, including air circulation, were clearly sub-par. This whole thing needed retrofitted. The scent of the rodents' mating still lingered heavily. She tried to ignore it. It reminded her of how Herkimer smelled. Herkimer. Feelings of affection mixed with possession and hate. She wanted to kill something.

Control yourself.

Just do this.

Wincing with pain, she released the mag-locks. Undocking the ship. Then settling into the pilot's chair. My whole body hurts. I need to get to sickbay. Patch myself up. But not until we're well on our way. I'm in too deep to back out now ...

Minutes later, Annika hopped into Graham's office.

The commander looked up from his monitors, raising a white-furred brow.

"I know you said not to interrupt unless there was an emergency." A tense pause. The ambassador's tall ears twiddled. "Well, we have a problem."