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"Lieutenant Mirabelle, match course and speed."

"Matching."

Aria stepped forward, bobtail flickering tensely as she hovered behind the helm officer. "Draw us parallel the freighter." She crossed her arms. Arctic had penetrated into the UT and, at full speed, had successfully tracked down the hijacked Reverie. Simple enough. Now to disable the ship, board her, subdue its perpetrator, and bring everything and everyone back to Redwing. She scrunched her white-furred muzzle. I suspect that will be a bit harder, won't it? "Elim?"

"No sign of resistance or increase in speed. She's probably maxed out as it is." The first officer/tactical chief looked down. A few melodic button-taps. "And her shields are still inactive."

"Does it even have shields?" Oliver ribbed. The chief engineer had just entered the bridge. Assumpta, his snow leopard assistant and also his beloved mate, was running things down in the drive section in his absence.

"Presumably," Aria said. "But, then, you didn't design it."

Oliver mewed with mirth, tall ears twiddling. "I do not have that big an ego." Though he had been personally responsible for developing some of Arctic's high-tech systems. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I want you on the bridge for this. Monitor Reverie's systems. I'm positive she's been sabotaged. I don't want to hop into a trap."

"I could've done that from engineering."

"I also have reason to believe the Syndicate is nearby. I want you to work with Kaplan to increase our sensor accuracy, look for things we normally wouldn't. We're also having trouble getting life-sign readings from Reverie," she added. "I think we're being jammed."

Oliver bowed and proceeded over to the communications station.

That settled, the captain glanced back to Elim, her sometimes-lover. "Can you knock her to sub-light speeds without major engine damage?" It would be easier to fly Reverie back to Redwing under its own power. Using a tractor beam would only double the return journey and tax Arctic's engines.

"Of course." Barely a pause before, "It's been said I have a precision touch."

"I wonder who said that." Aria's eyes crinkled with mirth. Perhaps I did? He's not being untruthful. Though, if I had to decide, I'd say he doesn't have as much finesse as Ross. Her romantic mouse. He was probably down in the Mess Hall wondering what was going on and worrying up a storm. She'd make it up to him later. "By all means, proceed. And raise shields in case she fires back."

"What's with all the 'she'?" Kaplan finally asked, making a face. "Do you mean the jaguar or the ship?"

"Either."

"I, for one, didn't know ships had genders. Wouldn't this require sex?" The stubborn male paused before asking, "Does Arctic go around breeding other vessels while we're asleep?"

"You're being facetious, again, ensign," Aria said.

"Right," he muttered.

"It's youth, ma'am," Mirabelle defended, lightly. "You can't hold it down."

Aria mewed a bit.

Kaplan furrowed his brow. Arctic's youngest crew-fur took himself a bit too seriously, sometimes. Academy training was fresh in his head. As was impetuousness. He hadn't been seasoned by 'real world' experience yet. "Why can Mirabelle make jokes and not me?" Not that he had a problem with Mirabelle. He could go for that ...

"Our shields are up," Elim said, in regards to defenses. A few beeps and chirrups from the computer. "Target acquired. Firing phase canons."

Aria watched as ruby-red lines lashed from Arctic's nose and sizzled between Reverie's compacted engine nacelles. It wasn't a particularly pretty ship. Had seen its share of trouble, judging by the markings on the hull. But it was no doubt durable. With a hefty aft compartment for carrying cargo. I wonder how many owners she went through before winding up in Peregrine's paws? I doubt he could've afforded to have it custom-built.

"The warp field's holding. Tough little craft," he said, confirming Aria's thoughts. "Firing again."

Ultimately, the smaller vessel's defenses were no match for Arctic's superior technology. And how could they be? This is one of the newest and most-advanced ships in the High Command fleet. Aria took a deep breath, breasts proudly pushing out a bit.

"She's dropping to impulse."

"Mirabelle ... "

"Doing the same." The stars stopped streaking on the viewer and became static, glowing dots.

"Does Reverie have any docking ports compatible with our own? Or will we have to send over shuttle-pods?"

"She has one docking port. No, two." The other female snow rabbit checked. Giving a single nod. "Both compatible."

"Then dock Arctic to the freighter."

"Elim, take a security team. Six officers. Split into two groups. And leave two guards behind at the airlock in case anyone tries to board us." I'm not taking any chances.

The male immediately hopped toward the bridge's aft lift.

"And be careful." Aria shot him a look.

"Is that an order?" he teased.

"Don't make it into one."

Giving a promising nod, Elim bounded to the lift and was whisked away.

A phase rifle whipped around the corner, a flash-beam securely attached to the top. It wasn't needed, though, because the corridor lights were on. Power was still up. No signs of subterfuge or sabotage. Yet. But Reverie had clearly been commandeered, right? So, where was this Advent figure? Elim slowly lowered the rifle and gestured his team past. Including himself, four males, two females. Bobtails and ears all stiffly to attention. He waited for them to take the point before tapping his comm-badge. "Arctic."

"Go ahead," came Aria's familiar voice.

"No sign of resistance thus far."

"Our internal sensor scans are still being deflected by a jamming signal," Aria reminded. "We believe it's coming from the bridge."

"Should be easy enough to deactivate."

"Any visual signs? Scents, even?" Aria asked.

Elim sniffed the air. Hmm. "They've been here. All three." Obviously. "Perhaps they abandoned ship? There should have two shuttle-pods. After boarding, we checked the bay. Only saw one."

"Perhaps it was never there. Peregrine could've lost the other at some point. The UT is a dangerous place."

While appreciating Aria's optimism, Elim countered, "Or Advent escaped when she realized we were coming for her." She would've had a few hours lead-time from seeing Arctic on sensors until the High Command ship's arrival. And a shuttle-pod, being much smaller, would be much harder to detect. Especially if its transceiver was deactivated. She could've slid right past them.

"Keep me apprised," Aria eventually said. "And be quick about it. I don't want to be here for very long." The channel chirped shut.

Elim's tall, slender ears twiddled. He loped forward, back to the front of his group "You three," he said, pointing down a corridor. "Find the bridge. Deactivate the jamming signal. Secure the ship. The rest of us are heading for the brig. Maybe the cargo hold, too." Those were the most-likely locations of the missing rodents. "Our first priority is to ensure the captives are safe."

A few minutes later, Elim squinted, stepping forward cautiously. Sniffing the air, again. The earthy scent of mouse. It was closer. Fresher. Straining his tall, distinguished ears, he listened for any noises. Then silently waved two of his deputies past him. He pulled out a paw-scanner. The jamming signal was still up. But his senses would do. There were definitely another fur in here. He was certain of it.

"Sir!"

Elim hopped forward.

"In here."

A cargo container. Not a very big one, either.

Together, the three snow rabbits undid the locks and pried the lid off. Each of them looking down at the 'cargo.' Sure enough. A mouse. In the fur, curled in a fetal position.

"Is he ... "

Elim touched a paw to one of the mouse's dishy ears. "I feel a pulse. Still warm, too. We'll have to get him to Sani," he said, of Arctic's chief medical officer.

"He has a lot of cuts."

"Feline claw slashes, no doubt." Squinting, he wondered, "Why would she keep him alive? I mean, she hurt him. But if she's that unhinged ... "

"Felines like to toy with their prey, sir. There's no figuring them out. They can't be trusted," a fellow male officer said.

"That's not a very enlightened opinion, ensign. Don't tell that to Oliver," Elim chastised.

"Well, Assumpta's different ... "

"Because she's one of us?"

An awkward hesitation. Predator/prey tension remained omnipresent, even in an organization that proclaimed to be as 'enlightened' as the High Command. The ensign just mumbled, "She wouldn't do something like this."

"No." Elim stood up, resolutely. This was a discussion for another time. They were getting sidetracked. "Where's the other one? The rat? I don't think she's in this room." As if to answer his query, a comm-chirrup. "Go ahead," he answered.

"We've reached the bridge." It was the other half of the team. One of the female officers, a lieutenant.

"Did you deactivate the jamming signal?"

"Yes. We, uh, also found a rodent ... tied to the captain's chair. She's a bit black and blue, sir. I would say she was beaten. There are signs she struggled."

"Get her to sickbay. Once you're sure the entire ship is secure, contact Aria for further instructions. I'm going to try to access the ship's memory core. Chronometer. Surveillance. Sensor logs." Elim steeled his soft-furred, snowy jaw. "I want to know what went on here." It still didn't make any sense. Two rodents, hurt but alive? A ship, hijacked and abandoned? More and more, it was hard to avoid the sneaking suspicion that the whole point of this had been to draw Arctic way out here. Why? Does the Syndicate want to steal Arctic? Use its technology to further its aims? With a ship like ours at its disposal, they could rip through the more primitive UT ...

"We're being hailed," said Kaplan.

Aria, sitting in her captain's chair, uncrossed her shapely, uniform-covered legs and put down a computer pad. Glancing upward. "Onscreen."

Elim's handsome visage filled the viewer. He tilted his muzzle. "We've secured the hostages."

"Are they okay?"

"They will need medical attention. I've already alerted Sani," he said, of Arctic's doctor.

"Good. As soon as they regain consciousness, we need them questioned. They could know something we don't."

"Very well. I'll be back on Arctic in a few minutes." An unhappy pause. "Advent's clearly not onboard."

"We'll find her eventually," Aria assured.

"Regardless, I suggest you go to red alert immediately."

"You think this is an elaborate trap?"

"I have my suspicions."

After considering, Aria replied, "I'll go to yellow alert. As soon as Reverie's engines can get fired up, we're both going back to Redwing. If the Syndicate is aiming for an ambush, they'll have to catch us first. And I'm willing to bet Oliver can get us loping at a quicker pace than them."

"Understood. Elim out."

The channel was cut.

Aria took a deep breath and left her chair. Pacing. "Lieutenant Mirabelle. Prepare to return to Redwing. Maximum speed. Lieutenant-Commander Oliver ... "

"Ma'am?" he replied, politely.

"Return to engineering. We'll need maximum engine output."

"You'll have it," the easygoing rabbit said, hopping for the aft lift.

"Ensign Kaplan. Contact the station on a secure channel." Or as secure as you could make it in the UT, where information was never safe. "Tell them we're on our way back. We have Reverie and its passengers." Aria's nose twitched, tensely. "But not Advent."

"Aye." The younger snow rabbit adjusted his silver ear-piece, which allowed him to listen to incoming and outgoing comm traffic, and tapped at his consoles. He couldn't resist some commentary, however. "If you want my opinion, this doesn't feel like a trap at all."

Aria clasped her paws behind her back. "No? "

The young male shook his white-furred head. "Feels like we were just led on a wild goose chase."

"Mm-f!" A bare, bold-striped back was pinned to thick, force-field protected glass. The only separation between the station's artificial atmosphere and the cold, inky vacuum of space. "Careful," its chipmunk owner panted.

"Just quit your squirmin'," the Kodiak bear murmured back. "It won't break."

"This station is five hundred years old, Commer!"

"An' it's still here," he replied. Deep, throaty growls, the bigger, stronger bear lapping at his lover's cute, whiskery muzzle.

Sesqui chittered.

"So, don't ya go an' worry. Cause I got ya, girly," he cooed, pulling her left leg up.

"Don't think you realize how big you are." She knew what to do. Hooked that limb around his hips. Then raised the other one. He used his strength and weight, as well as the window-glass, to keep her body in place.

"It's all muscle," he replied, slowly angling his thick, raging essence at the rodent's glistening flower. Grinding against it, teasingly. Threatening to enter.

"Nn-h ... yeah?"

"Oh-h, yeah ... " His hips began to roll, belly jiggling in a very un-muscular way as he finally did the deed. His ursine cock was on the big side, naturally, and the petite chipmunk was a snug fit. But wet. Very wet. Which made it a lot easier. She wanted this. The bear began to growl, lowly, deeply. Rumbling as his brown, furry chest covered her body with each hump. Heat billowing around them. Shed strands of fur beginning to swirl.

The chipmunk gasped, already being driven to wondrous heights, starting to lose herself in the act, and ... and then ... a comm-badge chirruped? She groaned. Talk about a rude interruption! "That, uh ... ah-h, you or me?" she managed, craning her neck to investigate.

"Who cares," the bear slurred, huffing on the rodent's head-stripe. Matting the fur upward.

"Think it's yours. We gotta answer it," she insisted. "Could be important."

"God dammit," he cursed, knowing Sesqui was right. It's probably about Reverie. Either she was captured and destroyed by the bats, or Arctic's rescue plan was a success. But neither o' those things is more important than pussy, right? He snorted and continued thrusting into her, stretching a leg backward, trying to catch his uniform-shirt with his toe-claws. The device chirruped a few more times. Finally, he snagged the shirt. Kicked it forward. And stepped on it, demanding, "What ya want?"

"It's Talkeetna."

"Hey, Red," he panted.

She ignored the nickname. She'd told the crew a thousand times not to call her that. She felt it undermined her authority. "Arctic's secured Reverie and is bringing her back. Captain Aria's crew claims there's no major damage, but you and Sesqui will need to do a complete survey to make sure."

"Wow, that's great," the bear replied, distractedly. It was good news, to be sure. But it wasn't as good as what his penis was feeling. Which was really, really good. Really!

Sesqui nodded in agreement, even though Talkeetna had no way of seeing it.

"Unfortunately, we still have no idea where Advent went. She wasn't with the ship. Peregrine was. He's okay. So is Petra."

"Knew they would be," the bear said. "They're tough critters." He felt a spike of anger at hearing Advent's name but shoved it down. That's not what I need right now.

"The Syndicate's clearly up to something. We're going to have to be ready for anything."

"Uh-huh." He rolled his heavy hips.

Sesqui, who'd been trying to hold back her moans, finally let one slip.

The bear put a huge paw over his muzzle, giving her a look.

"Hmm. Do I wanna know what you're doing right now?" the red squirrel asked, finally wise to their game.

"Nothin' you an' Herky haven't ... mm-f ... done. I'd wager." His tongue peeked out, and he looked the chipmunk in the eyes. Keeping his paw on her mouth, he worked a few furred fingers inside, mouthing the word 'suck' to her. She did so, using as much tongue as possible. And giving him the most sultry look. And, behind her, an endless field of stars. Diamonds. Burning eternally. As if he could reach out and touch them. It was almost enough to make him feel romantic. Almost.

"Fair enough ... " Talkeetna couldn't deny that she and Herkimer had bred on duty before. Or outside crew quarters. She cleared her throat. "Just, uh, hurry up. Our ship may be AWOL, but this isn't shore leave." The channel was rashly cut.

"Thought she'd never shut up," Commer slurred, beginning to hump the chipmunk frantically. Some furs took life too seriously. "Bet ya anythin' she'll be getting' laid in five minutes ... " He chuckled. Bet she's a good fuck. Herkimer's a lucky bastard.

"I say ten."

"Mm, you're on," the bear huffed. "We'll have to call her comm-badge ... see if we can hear squeaks an' heavy breathing."

"Don't know if we'll be able to hear anything over our own ... "

"I don't squeak, baby. I growl," the bear rumbled, plowing into her tunnel with slick, steady friction.

Sesqui wasn't holding back her squeaks, now. Or her chitters. Or anything. She was wrapped around the big, furry bear, countering his humps with counter-bumps.

He gave a big ol' bear grin, undulating against her. "You know you want it." Deep, grinding thrusts. Increasingly spastic, erratic. He was beginning to grunt. His cock tingling severely.

"Ah, gah ... Commer ... " The petite rodent's blunt-clawed toes curled, helplessly, heels digging into his body.

"Oh, baby," he blurted, hips crashing forth. Stopping. His muzzle tilting upward, opening. "Oh, oh-h ... that's it ... "

The chimpunk gave a feral squeal at his words. Clamping, clenching around him, reaching down to frantically rub at her clitoris.

The bear shuddered as he filled her with seed. "Ah. Ah ... " He rested his chin on her head, limbs trembling. "Huh ... "

"Mm. Mm-h," Sesqui whimpered, eventually moving both her arms around his neck.

"S'wonderful," the bear slurred after a hazy silence.

She nodded weakly.

He kissed about her face. Then, after a moment, sank to his knees, laying the chipmunk on her back and sprawling himself atop of her, warmly. Sensitive length still inside her. "Think we should tell Herkimer we made a mess up here?" He was in charge of station upkeep and operations, right?

"You're the one who made the mess," she teased.

"You were leakin' like a ruptured coolant valve," he replied.

She blushed beneath her fur. "Stop it."

The bear chuckled.

"Haven't seen you this relaxed in days," she told him. "I was getting worried. Jale getting hurt really affected you, didn't it?"

"I just fucked the best piece o' tale on this station. Why wouldn't I be relaxed?" he replied, completely skirting the observation.

"You really think I'm prettier than Talkeetna? Or Ambassador Annika?" she asked seriously. "Or that skunk?"

"What'd I just say?" Talkeetna was more beautiful. Annika was hotter. And Seldovia was ... hell, she was a princess. Ravishing was the word there. But Sesqui was definitely cuter. "You're cute as hell, baby. And less uptight than the lot of 'em," the open-breeding ursine whispered to the equally loose rodent. "I could lick you up. You make me happier than anyone on Reverie, I'd wager."

She smiled. "You never told me that before."

"Well ... " He exhaled. "I'm tellin' ya now. We got a rapport."

"Yeah. Mm. You make me happy, too." She bumped noses with the bear, smiling. It quickly faded as she told him, "But you can't charm your way out of answering my question."

"Can't I say I remember what it was."

"Jale."

He sighed. "Don't wanna talk about it."

"Can't ignore it."

He growled with annoyance. "We've all been in serious scrapes before."

"But?"

He hesitated. "It's almost been a lark, y'know? How far can we push it and still get away with our tails still attached? You don't remember how serious things are 'til they get, well ... serious again." A pause. "And I'm not a serious sort."

"I'd noticed." She began stroking his pelt.

He pulled out of her, pushing himself up. Then rolling aside. Onto his back with a sigh, staring at the ceiling.

She turned and crawled on top of his hips and belly, straddling the big predator. "Jale's gonna be fine. Reverie's fine. Things will return to normal soon enough."

"Yeah ... " He had a feeling it wouldn't be the old normal, though. The good old days were gone. Even for an easygoing fur like him, that was hard to roll with.

She inched forward, nibbling on his jaw, assuring, "It won't be so bad."

Commer nuzzled the chipmunk affectionately. If he were a sappier sort, he'd tell Sesqui he loved her or something. Instead, he said, "You think the new normal means more sex?"

She sat up and shoved him, playfully, with a smirk. "You heard Red. We gotta shower and get back to work."

The lop-eared rabbit peeked into the decorated room. A lot of knick-knacks. A lot of things she didn't recognize. She crossed her arms self-consciously, padding about for a few seconds. Am I intruding? Not seeing anyone, she turned to leave.

"Hello, miss!"

Vesta hopped in surprise. "Oh, uh ... hi?" It was an otter. She didn't know his name. Had seen him in passing, though. He was new, wasn't he? "Didn't know anyone was here. I mean, I guess I should've ... " She gestured around with her paws. "It's one of the nicest rooms on the Promenade."

"Well, I did some remodeling. And I'm not 'anyone.' I'm just a civilian, ma'am."

"I'd heard Commander Graham was trying to entice some to lay anchor here, but I didn't know he'd had any takers."

"Well, eventually, as far as permanent residents go ... hopefully, there'll be more." He rubbed his neck. "Right now, I'm it. I'm the guinea pig. Well, I'm an otter, but I'm ... "

She smiled.

" ... and we've got a few passenger ships docked, as well. Though I reckon the whole Syndicate threat is going to scare them off." Which would be a shame. He had faith that would blow over, though. Nothing to base it on. Just trying to be optimistic. The alternative was to believe the worst. And that didn't make life very satisfying, did it?

"Yeah ... "

"So, uh, what's your pleasure?" the sweet otter asked.

"What?" She blinked.

"What were you after? I sell pretty much everything. And I have a small industrial replicator, too." He seemed proud of this fact. "So, if I don't have it, I might be able to make it!"

"I was just browsing, actually."

"Oh. Heh ... that's what they all say."

"I'm Reverie's communications officer," she explained. "And Redwing already has one of those. A communications expert, I mean."

"Princess Seldovia," the otter said, nodding.

"Um, yeah." She wondered if that whole royal story was for real? Or just a rumor. I'm not entirely close to my own crew let alone Redwing's. For someone who works in the information realm, I'm awfully oblivious to things in my immediate vicinity. I wonder what that says about me? "Anyway, she doesn't need my help. And, uh ... well, my ship's not here right now. So, I'm not sure what to do with myself. Sorta just waiting 'til Reverie gets back." She'd just heard Arctic had recaptured the freighter. The lop-eared rabbit was Reverie's newest addition. It didn't quite feel like home just yet. Maybe it would soon? "Feel useless."

"Aw. Don't say that."

"But it's true."

"Maybe you just need to change your definition of useful. For instance, I'm new here. I'm friendly to everyone, but I feel they're too busy to return my attentions. Think they forget I'm here. Or they view me as a rube. Pat me on the head and move on." He paused. Then smiled, hopefully. "You're giving me someone to talk to. That's a use, isn't it?"

"I suppose so, yes."

"How'd you come to serve aboard a freighter?" He tilted his head in genuine interest. She didn't seem like a fur who had 'space legs.'

"Same as anyone, I guess. Wanted to leave home. Things were getting stale. Had no prospects or the ones I did have fell through." She didn't specify which one it was. "It was a job. It was ... you know. It's not bad. Though I don't have the fortitude the rest of the crew has. You might have noticed that."

"I'm sure you have other qualities," the ever-positive mustelid insisted.

"I'm not hardened enough. I've been told that comes with time."

"I've been told that, too. But I've made it a personal goal to maintain a sense of perspective. To have levity. To not lose my sense of wonder."

"Wonder? That's a rarity in the UT."

"True ... but the universe is so vast. Full of things both grand and gross. To treat it all as passé is a bit disingenuous, I think."

"Maybe." The rabbit glanced back out to the Promenade. Like a ghost town right now. Everyone was hunkered down, waiting for the bats to swoop in. I wonder if they really will? Or if it's all for show? She'd heard stories about how the Syndicate liked to use intimations and intimidations more than actual force. How important is this station to the snow rabbits? Will they defend it? Or, like everyone else in the UT, will they give up and let anarchy reign? There's no sense of purpose in the hinterlands. Makes furs easier to manipulate. "So, what's your story?"

"I don't really have one," the otter said.

"Everyone has a story," she insisted.

"Honestly? I've not had any major life traumas. I've not, uh ... I mean, I wasn't forced into being a merchant. I just like interacting with furs. I like giving them what they want. And if they give me a little something back, well, that's even better. But I'm perhaps not the best at it. I, uh ... I'm a little too nice. Business can be cutthroat, you know. I'm a bit of a pushover."

"Surprised you'd admit that to a potential customer," she quipped.

"Honesty is the best policy."

"Well, uh ... to a point, I guess." She rubbed at her creamy forearm-fur. A yellow-tinged off-white.

"So, I got squeezed out at home," he continued. "Disenfranchised. Like a lot of furs in the UT. Thought maybe if I was the first fur on the scene somewhere ... I'd have an edge. With my flag planted, I'd do better." He looked around at his empty shop-front. "I think I'm making progress!"

"I'd buy something, but I'm afraid I don't have much in terms of ... well, anything, really." Peregrine compensated his crew with shelter, food, and protection. And a percentage of the loot from each trade run. But most of the crew ended up spending that during their frequent stops. On food, drink ... virtual entertainment. She'd been in more than a few seedier holo-suites. Some of them shockingly realistic. Her ears got hot, and she shook the memories off, hoping the otter wouldn't notice. "Running freight in ungoverned space isn't very profitable. But, then, I never dreamed of being rich."

"Just as well. There are more important things." The otter tilted his head, observing her. "I've had a few customers in the past week. Only two bought anything. But Commander Graham is giving me the space rent-free. The High Command is sorta subsidizing my presence. To sort of, uh ... to jumpstart station life." It would take time. Months. Maybe even years before the station was truly bustling. It was finally up and running, but you had to get the locals used to taking it seriously. They'd been trained to avoid it for generations. Viewing the place as haunted or dangerous. Even the Syndicate had left it alone. Until the High Command began to have success with it, anyway.

"You seem really nice." She paused, awkwardly. Was that a lame thing to say? It was the truth. And he'd just said he was all about honesty. "I'm sure you'll do great." Eyes darting around, she began to creep toward the exit. "I should go, though, and, uh ... " Maybe Seldovia could use some backup? Or maybe Reverie will get back early and I can check its sub-space logs, see if Advent sent anything to anyone while aboard. If she erased it, I might be able to retrieve it.

" ... have you eaten lunch?" he asked.

Taken out of her thoughts, she took a breath. "Um. No." The rabbit shook her head.

"If you can handle what the station's food processors churn out, I'll show you the repli-mat. I mean, I don't think I'm going to get robbed while I'm away." He smiled, warmly. "That is, if you're hungry?"

Dipping her chin, the rabbit smiled and nodded. It would be rude to decline, wouldn't it? And if someone really needed her, she was a call away. "Sure."

Moving past her, the otter's thick, short-furred rudder-tail idly brushed her leg.

The rabbit blushed.

"This way! You'll have to tell me about some of your adventures. I'm sure you've seen a lot more than I have."

"I wish," Vesta muttered bashfully, eying the otter's backside. And following his lead.

Sheila, arms crossed, stared blankly at a bulkhead. A frown etched on her silvery muzzle.

"What's wrong?" Annika asked.

"Aside from just getting over my heat?" she complained. And agreeing to be Barrow's mate? Talk about insanity. She cleared her throat, tugging at her uniform. "Just ... " She squirmed. "Something's not right. The Syndicate had to know Arctic would intervene."

"Perhaps they were forcing our paw. Making Arctic choose between the border colonies and us. They didn't anticipate Luminous entering the picture." The ex-Federation ship, fresh from a diplomatic mission, had slotted into Arctic's spot on border patrol.

"Advent was a pawn," Sheila insisted. "I'm sure of that."

Talkeetna, returning to Ops after an awkwardly hasty departure, carefully smoothed at her autumn-red fur as she wandered into the impromptu meeting. Her pelt was matted. And suddenly more perfumed than before. "Advent? She always struck me as a paranoid type." Judging by her behavior when the squirrel had first mated Herkimer. She'd treated him so badly. It made her blood boil to think about. "I'm not fond of her, but she's not stupid."

"Mm." Sheila scrunched her muzzle, eying the squirrel, whose bushy tail was flitting about a bit too happily. "Seward," she called.

The snow rabbit popped up. He'd been repairing some faulty circuitry behind a row of consoles.

"Run a short-range sensor sweep."

"How short?"

"Very. Within the solar system."

He blinked but wandered over to a panel. "I'm not seeing anything unusual. Besides, if there was, the computer would alert us."

The hare's eyes darted. "Only if it found something unusual. Look for a hidden ion trail. Engine exhaust."

"I did."

"They may not be using engines analogous to ours. Keep scanning."

Annika tilted her head in confusion.

Talkeetna crossed her arms. "What's on your mind?" she asked the hare.

"A hunch," Sheila replied.

"Wait a minute ... you're right. I have something." A surprised pause. "It's a Syndicate ship!"

The females' tails all raised and bristled.

"Where? Are they headed for Redwing?"

"No. They're an hour away. In orbit of the desert planet."

"What? Why?" Talkeetna asked.

"Fuck." Sheila hare closed her eyes. "The ruins! This whole thing was a ruse."

"So, what, they didn't want Petra after all? They've been desperate to capture her for ages. And Peregrine by extension," Talkeetna said. "We've had so many run-ins with them over the past few years." Run-ins and near-avoidances. "They wouldn't just give up on getting them when they're this close."

"No, they want them. But they're playing the long game. They don't care if it's now or later. They're confident it'll eventually happen." They're confident about everything. That's what happened when you had inflated egos. When you had a mental advantage over everyone in the room. "They never would've reached the planet if both Reverie and Arctic had been here, though. They had to lure them both away. So, Advent contacts them to strike a deal. They use her. As a pawn. Making her think it's really her idea. So, Advent moves Reverie out into the open. Arctic pursues because she thinks the Syndicate is moving against the station."

"So, why aren't they?" Seward wondered.

"Because the dragons' technology in the ruins is more important to them."

"But it's just spy stuff," Talkeetna said. A worried pause. "Right?"

"They're telepaths. Their whole business is eavesdropping and spying. The Syndicate doesn't like to attack until they have every conceivable advantage. And this would give them that ... "

Worried looks were exchanged.

Talkeetna's whiskers twitched.

Double doors slid open behind them. They all turned to see Graham emerging from his office. The snow rabbit hopped down a short flight of steps. "I just spoke with Aria, and ... "

" ... get her back," Sheila demanded, stonily.

"Pardon?"

Annika sighed and explained it all to the commander. As logically as she could, considering how convoluted the story was.

"Arctic will be back within a few hours," Graham assured, calmly. "She's going as fast as she can. When here, she can go after the Syndicate ship. It's only one vessel. I'm sure we'll have technical superiority," he said.

Sheila didn't seem assuaged. The silver hare blew out a breath. "If the Syndicate got this far, they'll have something in store for Arctic. I don't know what, but ... they're always a step ahead."

"Or they like to think they are, at least. Pride comes before a fall," Graham said, serenely.

The hare scoffed and began to pace, thinking out loud. "If Arctic goes after the Syndicate ship above the planet, that leaves Redwing virtually undefended. There could be more Syndicate ships nearby, waiting to attack us."

"Then why wouldn't they simply attack right now?"

"I don't know ... "

"This is all speculation," Graham decided, raising a paw to put an end to it. "When Arctic gets back, I'll ask Aria drop Reverie off here and then proceed immediately to the planet. We'll have both places covered."

"I love our little ship," Talkeetna said, "but she doesn't have a lot of teeth. She wouldn't last twenty minutes in a true firefight."

"Then I suppose we'll have to rely on your crew's guile," the snow rabbit reasoned.

"We've never been described as being full of that," the red squirrel said, lightly. Full of other things, yes.

Sheila, arms crossed, said, "So, we're just going to sit around and wait? Again?"

"Mobility isn't the name of the game when you live and work on a space station," Graham reminded.

The hare sighed. But nodded. She'd spent her entire adult life on ships until taking this assignment. I'm a fur of action. I don't like being a spectator. But how long have I been here, now? Months? Half a year? I've settled to the point of taking a mate. What if I actually start to enjoy being in the same place all the time?

"In the mean time, let's batten down the hatches. We're not giving up this place without a fight."

The hare nodded. "I'll give everyone a phase pistol. Put up force-fields around key areas."

"I'll be back in my office. I want to contact Captain Wren of Luminous. Update him on the uncertainty of our status. Perhaps we are entirely off-base and this is all meant to weaken our border." Having Arctic chasing shadows around the UT would lead credence to this theory. There were so many ways this situation could break.

Annika exchanged a glance with Talkeetna. "You have resided in the Uncharted Territories much longer than the rest of us."

The red squirrel nodded, tufted, angular ears cocked atop her rusty-red head.

"Why has no one attempted to stand up to the Syndicate before now?"

"They have," she insisted. "It just didn't turn out too well for them."

"Because they backed down from intimidation or because they were legitimately overpowered?"

"Mixture of both, really. In case you haven't noticed, furs aren't really all that organized in the UT. But the High Command is. And the Syndicate knows it. They know you can take them. They'll do anything to keep you from gaining a foothold out here. They thrive in chaos. And if you bring order to that chaos? Well ... they'll just become another random roost of rogue bats."

"You mean they'll become like Barrow?" Sheila quipped. "Sounds like a no-win scenario to me."

"You love him and you know it," Seldovia said. Quiet until now, she was keeping a close eye on local comm-traffic.

Sheila's cheeks got hot. "Shut up," she told the striped skunk.

The princess just smiled.

"Mm ... mm-h ... "

"Ah-h ... "

The pink bat, delectable as cotton candy and with motions just as light, undulated atop a blue-furred figure. Rudder-like tail raising high, her wet, pink pussy flashing briefly with each rise. Then vanishing as she sunk downward, grindingly, against her partner's furry hips.

The male, head rolling aside, chittered.

Janna felt the familiar numbing enzyme mix into her saliva. It didn't work on one's self, of course. But she could taste it, somehow. And began spreading it along the male's neck with laps and licks, working it into his pelt. 'Til it reached the skin. And numbed it. Her short, sharp fangs grazed for a spot, teasingly. "You want me to bite you, don't you. You want me so fully inside your head that you become a part of me." They weren't questions.

The male bat tensed, seeming to struggle internally. "I ... I d-don't ... "

She gyrated her hips against his loins, steering his sensitive erection in a clockwise direction.

"Ah-h!" he moaned, wracked his pleasure, sinking down into his captain's bed. It was regally adorned. Her quarters were so lush.

She slowed, panting into his sweeping ear. "Feel good?"

"Y-yes ... " He felt like the stars that were streaking by outside the windows. Dizzy.

"Imagine how good it'll feel when you experience it from my end, too."

He nodded. He was imagining it. Yes, yes ...

"I need to bite you for you to feel that, though," she cooed.

"I want you to!" he begged.

"Good boy." She grinned. Males were so easy. She licked his neck a few more times before sinking her fangs into his neck muscles. Within seconds, the hollow fang-tips began leaking a white, milky fluid into his bloodstream. It didn't take long to circle through his entire body. And the moment it did, they both shuddered. No longer able to talk with her muzzle pressed against him, she could only think to him, telepathically: 'You're doing good, cutie.' His penis felt amazing. She felt it, now, as if it belonged to her. As if I were him. He was me. But it wasn't just feelings. It was emotions, memories. Everything. She had access to absolutely everything. Both of the bats were naked in this bed, but this went well beyond physically naked. It was undiluted intimacy. And it was a total rush. I feel so sorry for other furs, she thought. They're so trapped. So limited. They can't feel beyond themselves. They can't feel all this!

The blue-furred officer, hazily eying his discarded uniform, could only wrap his warm, velvety wing-arms around Janna. He wasn't sure how this had come to happen. Only that it suddenly was, and her mind was so potent, so refined! It overwhelmed him. The merging was supposed to be equal. It always had been with others. But Janna was different. She was circumventing him, somehow.

His name was Tam. A younger officer, only twenty-two. An average telepath. This was his first serious posting. His father served on the Quorum, the governing council of the rogue bat Syndicate. The Quorum, in Janna's mind, had too conservative a voice. They were too cautious. Much like Tam himself, here. She probed deeper. He'd been giving her trouble, lately. Bristling at her orders. Showing 'leanings' toward Marcus' style of command. So, she'd taken advantage of his undeveloped skills, working her way into his mind, sinking her telepathic tendrils into his brain, and now, with her fangs in his neck, with their connection as close as it could be, she began altering his feelings, planting desires.

'You won't give me any lip anymore, will you?' she cooed into his brain. "Just cock.'

The male, who'd disliked her a few hours ago, could only moan obediently.

'And when daddy calls to talk, you'll sing my praises.'

"Mm-h!"

Wings flapped. Fur flew.

She rode him roughly.

Tam came first, of course. He had no choice. She ensured it. His impressive penis jerked sharply before gushing seed, the poor, defeated male gurgling with mindless bliss.

Janna experienced his pleasure. The male orgasm. So simple. So laughably crude. But so insanely good. Fangs glistening in the other's neck, she sighed, rolling her hips a few more times. Breasts squishing against his chest. And then she came, herself. A dam bursting inside her, the shockwaves rushing to the surface. Leaving her trembling, gasping. All was ecstasy. Her pussy tightened, milking her partner.

Tam's mind was completely blown.

The female, breasts heaving, waited a moment before withdrawing her fangs. They were glistening. She licked at them with her long, winding tongue. "That was ... fun," she smirked before dismounting and flopping onto back, breasts heaving. "Should've bred with you sooner."

He nodded, meekly.

"But don't you worry. We'll make up for lost time. But, first, let's lay down some ground rules ... " A beeping filled the air. She scowled. "What?" she snapped at the computer.

"It's the bridge, ma'am."

"I know that. I thought I told you I wasn't to be disturbed."

"Understood, ma'am," said the comm-officer, trying not to sound intimidated. "But we're picking up a distress call."

Inspecting the bony struts of her wing-arms, which she stretched lazily, Janna replied, "Why the hell do I care?"

"It's from one of Reverie's shuttle-pods."

This had her attention. She sat up immediately. "I see. Slow to impulse and bring it into the bay. Tractor beam. As soon as it's aboard, head back to warp on our current course. Have security meet me in the bay."

Tam sat up, now, too. Blinking the fog from his eyes.

"Where do you think you're going, mister?" she asked the male, who was reaching for his uniform.

"Back to duty."

She slapped him with her telepathic feelers.

He jerked in surprise, giving a shocked whimper.

"Your duty is in my bed. I thought we'd established that." Not enough throwaway pirates and freighter captains lately. I need something more regular. Not to mention I'll be coming into heat next week, and I'll be damned if I'm going to endure that alone. She'd discreetly sampled a few males on the ship in preparation, as always. And had erased their memories of the experience afterward. None had suited her fancy. But Tam was malleable. And handsome. And had political connections. And a thick cock. Yes, he would do. "You're mine. Understood?"

A confused hesitation.

"Oh, but you will be stubborn! I just screwed you cross-eyed and you need more incentive? Very well." With utter ease, she triggered a strong endorphin burst in his brain.

He inhaled, shuddering intensely.

"Understood?"

"Y-yes ... "

"Yes, Mistress," she breathed.

"Ah ... yes, Mistress ... "

"Good boy!" She leaned in to kiss his muzzle.

He returned it as if she were the love of his life, smiling stupidly.

'Tongue,' she mentally ordered.

And, so, he slipped his tongue into her muzzle, and ...

"We've been waiting nearly twenty minutes," Marcus said.

"I was busy," Janna replied, sternly, as she strode into the ship's streamlined shuttle bay.

The blue-furred bat squinted and looked his compatriot up and down. Her fur was slightly damp. She'd showered right before coming here. In the middle of the day? She'd bred with someone. Probably against their will. He sighed and shook his head. There was no use probing her mind to get details. He was more formidable than most bats on the ship, but there was no point picking a fight with her. Not when they had business to attend to.

"Is the pod secure?"

"Yes, ma'am. One occupant. Feline."

"Our Advent, no doubt." A dimissive smile. "Let her out."

The security officers did so, weapons drawn.

The spotted jaguar, scowling, shoved them away. As if daring them to fire on her. She then saw Marcus. "I know you. I talked to you ... "

"On my behalf," Janna interjected.

Marcus shot Janna a look.

"You're not where you're supposed to be, kitty," Janna said, padding forward.

"Yeah? Neither are you."

"I'm always where I want to be," Janna assured, softly.

"Where's Peregrine. And the traitor Petra?" Marcus asked. He may have been more reasonable than Janna. But he was still a loyalist. And the rat had been on their radar for a while. Ever since she worked for them and left without permission. You didn't just 'walk away' from the Syndicate.

"There wasn't room for them."

"Did you kill them?"

"No, she didn't kill them, Marcus, as you well know," Janna said, casually sifting through the jaguar's thoughts. "She knows we're playing the 'long game.' That we'll get what we want eventually. Including them." One way or another. "If she would've killed them, it would've put her in our bad graces. And she needs us too badly to risk the alienation."

Advent stared the pink bat down.

She stared back. "You obviously figured out our plan. Part of it, anyway. Would you care to tell Marcus why you're here?"

"I want to join you."

The blue bat squinted.

"I want to help you destroy Redwing."

"We have no intention of destroying the station. It's too big and valuable a structure," Marcus said. "In too strategic a location."

"Take it over, then. I don't care. As long as I can watch as you mentally rape the crew."

"Mm. That's not exactly what we do," Marcus said slowly. With a frown. He, too, scanned the jaguar's thoughts. She was sincere. She wanted revenge on the Redwing crew. But she was also hoping to 'play' the Syndicate. That wasn't going to happen. She was too transparent. She hated bats. He sighed. Typical. Advent's reaction was the reason so many bats lived as rogues. And why a group like the Syndicate was necessary. We have a right to use our powers, to be ourselves. To live naturally. When others take issue with that, haven't we the right to collectively defend ourselves?

"I was violated by a bat. I know how it works," the big cat continued, referring to her casual fling with Barrow. Of course, she had gone into it willingly. With full consent. But that was beside the point. I didn't like the result. I was misled.

"Do you?" Marcus challenged.

"You'll have to forgive my colleague," Janna interrupted. "He's on loan from the high-ups. There's more bureaucrat than officer about him. He likes to parse his words."

"Janna, she should be thrown in a cell. And interrogated. Immediately."

"I thought you didn't exactly do that?" Advent taunted.

"When we are threatened, we respond appropriately. I'm sure you'd do the same," Marcus replied, voice clipped.

"Yes, but can't you feel her hate, Marcus? The rage? It's oozing out of her." Janna almost sounded perversely delighted. "She wants what we want."

"She's also a predator! She views us as prey."

"True." Janna, with her long, bendable thumb, snatched a phase pistol from one of her security officers. And raised a rosy wing-arm, pointing the weapon between the feline's eyes. "So, tell me, Advent: why shouldn't I kill you where you stand?"

If she was intimidated by Janna's gesture, she didn't show it. Maybe she had a death wish? "Because I know more than those stupid rodents combined. I have information on every single Redwing crew-fur. I know their weaknesses. Their histories. And I know the station's technological 'ins and outs.' I lived there for several months. You need me."

"Need?" A laugh. "You? Such gall. Mm. But I have to admire that, on some level. Putting herself in this position?" A pause. Lowering the weapon. "I want to interrogate her myself." It'd been a while since she'd gotten to mentally own a feline.

"Let us remember the last fur you interrogated." That pirate captain that'd hassled them a while back. A weasel, if Marcus recalled correctly. Janna had forced him into doing all things sexual before leaving him in a vacant, vegetable state. A complete mind wipe.

"You will persist on remembering things," Janna told him with annoyance. "But I don't think your powers are deft enough to control such a dangerous beast. Mine are."

Marcus resisted a sigh. "Very well. Just be done by the time we reach the Redwing system." He couldn't pierce Janna's unusually strong mental shield. But he didn't need his powers to know she was up to something. When wasn't she?

"I'll try not to lose track of time," Janna said with a smirk, waving a wing-arm at her guards. "Take her to the brig. And tell the on-duty officer to give us privacy. I'll be there in an hour."

The two male guards nodded and led Advent away, leaving Janna and Marcus alone.

The pink-furred bat watched her subordinates go and then scanned the shuttle bay before signaling the bridge. "Status?" she asked.

"The scout ship is in orbit of the planet. She's been detected by the station."

"I thought I asked for radio silence?"

"The channel is encrypted. The skunk won't be able to decode it." It was the same comm-officer as before. Perpetually nervous. May need to fix that.

"Mm. She better not." Janna made a face. "Tell the scout to hold position." Glancing at Marcus, she explained, egotistically, "Redwing's undoubtedly alerted Miss Aria. When Arctic gets back, she'll go after them. And when she does? We'll appear out of nowhere and go after her. Two against one. A snow rabbit sandwich." She licked her fangs, suggestively.

The blue-furred male had no reaction, other than to stretch his wing-arms. "Destroying Arctic, which is no guarantee, won't assure the High Command will simply go away. They may view it as an act of war."

"Or they may view it as impetus to abandon their noble 'social experiment' in the UT." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. The High Command could say what it wanted about its desire to supply order to a chaotic region. Their presence here was purely selfish. Solely about their own security and their own future interests. Damn rabbits. Unsurprisingly, they were good at fucking furs over. "After committing so many resources to recent wars? They're still deep in recovery mode. Gearing for greater potential conflicts. The Scalie Solidarity? The Federation again? They aren't going to engage us fully. We don't want their space. We just want them to leave us alone. We destroy one of their 'ships of the line'?" She nodded, darkly. "There's a point where they'll cut their losses. We simply have to help them reach that point. And then we can use Redwing as we wish. And you and I can finally part ways."

"That makes some degree of sense," Marcus was forced to admit. "But things rarely play out so smoothly."

"And here I thought we were on the same page for once. Now, go do what you ... do," Janna said, dismissively, "when not being a thorn in my side. I'm sure your resident waif, Willow, is missing your company."

"At least she loves me under her own free will. Unlike your 'toys'."

"I'm sure you've never used your powers for anything kinky. Or for your own gain." She spoke as if she knew something. Maybe she did. Maybe she didn't. Janna just smirked and brushed past him. "I need to grab a bite to eat. I'm famished. I'll see you soon," she breathed.

"Right," he replied, suspiciously.

Janna's look became steely as she sauntered out into the corridor. Marcus was right to be on guard, of course. I'm not only going to invade the jaguar's mind, take all the information I want. And sift through her most intimate, embarrassing thoughts. I'm going to plant a suggestion. I need to get rid of Marcus. He's holding me back. He's a stickler to rules and regulations. It's bats like him that keep the Syndicate from being even stronger than it already is. But if I kill him myself, or have one of my officers do it, the Quorum will turn completely against me. I'm not a traitor. And I can't have my entire roost turning against me. No. I need a loophole. I need an outsider to take care of this. Advent's insane. If she happens to kill Marcus, it would be a most unfortunate event. But it couldn't be pinned on me. And when I'm finally off the leash? Well ... everything will be fair play, won't it?