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"That's far enough!"

They came to a halt.

"Where do you think you two are going?" Sheila demanded brusquely, moving a paw to her sleek, fully charged phase pistol. She didn't wield it. Just wanted them to know it was there. The silver hare was posted outside the entrance to Redwing's main conference room. A few more guards were on the other side. All snow rabbits. Part of Arctic's security team.

"Oh, us?" Jale said, snickering not so secretively. He didn't have a good poker face. "Nowheres!"

The hare, glancing down at the short, stocky male, wasn't convinced.

"Heard there was a meetin' goin' on," Commer drawled, crossing his arms. The Kodiak bear was noticeably larger than the wolverine. At first glance, they were a classic odd couple. But he and Jale were best friends, always having each other's backs regardless of rules or regulations. Redwing, however, was under High Command jurisdiction. Which meant protocols. Which meant a hard-ass like Sheila standing in the way between them and justice.

"Something like that," she confirmed. It wasn't exactly a secret.

"Maybe involvin' our side an' the Syndicate?" the bear continued.

"What of it?" Sheila replied, trying not to sigh with annoyance. She was running on very little sleep.

"So, we really let 'em onto the station?" the bear erupted, angrily. "Where they can get in our heads? Control our minds at will? Do ya know how long we've spent tryin' to avoid 'em? Now, you just let 'em waltz aboard! They shouldn't be allowed anywhere near us!"

"Calm down," Sheila demanded.

"Yer a security officer jus' like me," Jale told her, clenching his sharp-clawed paws. "Why ya tellin' us to be calm? Ya know what danger is. An' how it's gotta be dealt with." But, then, maybe she didn't. She was prey. You couldn't trust prey to do a predator's job! But he bit his tongue and decided not to tell her that. She looked like she could deliver a killer punch-kick. Plus, she had a phase pistol and they didn't.

"I'm also under orders," she replied. Regardless of whether she, personally, would've allowed the rogue bats to board the station, Graham and Aria, her superiors, had deemed it an acceptable course of action. "We actually follow a chain of command on this station."

"Blah, blah, blah," Jale went.

She frowned at him. Did he lose any brain cells when Advent had mauled him to a pulp? Or had he always been like this?

"We have one on Reverie, too, Buns," Commer insisted. "We're not anarchists. But those bats are."

"Mm." Her steely eyes narrowed. "This is the only time I'm going to tell you not to call me that," she warned.

"What?"

"Buns," she spat. Not that she had anything against rabbits, of course. But she wasn't one. She was a fucking hare. Get it right.

"Heh. Yeah? Or what?"

"Or I'll put you on your big, furry ass." It wasn't a threat as much as a promise.

"Ha!" The bear rumbled, nodding with grinning approval. "Unlikely. But I admire your spunk, Sheila."

"Yeah. You'd be good on a freighter, mebbe," Jale told her.

"Why's that?" she asked.

"You don't take nothin' from no one. Sometimes, you gotta have that attitude when ya come up against the seedy elements."

"I used to serve on one, actually."

"Oh, yeah?"

"The Red Rocket."

"Never heard of it," the wolverine said, furrowing his brow.

"It was destroyed years ago." She'd finally put all that behind her. "We can't have peace with each other if we don't make an attempt." Tension could be melted. It simply required humility and self-sacrifice. "The Syndicate and High Command could go to war, yeah. But does anyone really want that?"

Jale's eyes lit up as he imagined big battles with epic explosions.

"Well, I certainly don't. They're meeting in there to reach a compromise."

"I don't trust 'em," Commer said, simply.

"Don't you get screwed by a bat?" Jale asked, casually. He squinted at the taller hare. Man, she had big ears. "Yeah. Barry! He fixed me up when I got hurt. He talked about you ... "

"Barrow," the hare replied with a sigh. "He's my ... mate." It was still a foreign term to her. I'll get used to it eventually. "And it'd be more accurate to say I screw him." He probably thinks we're on equal terms. Hah!

Commer growled, lightly. "So, you have a weakness for bats, do you?"

"So?"

"Perhaps your bias is makin' you soft to the true threat they represent. Got your brains scrambled from that 'mergin' o the minds' trick they do."

"Ignorance isn't becoming, Commer," she advised.

"That an insult or somethin'?" He inched closer.

"You're not getting into the conference room," she repeated. "And even if you do, Captain Aria's security officers would stun you before you took two steps. You're outnumbered. And outgunned. I suggest you go elsewhere."

"Don't got nothin' to do," Jale complained, inspecting his claws. Reverie was simultaneously being repaired from its hijacking and being prepared for its tardy mission. But that didn't require a security officer. It did, however, require the bear. But Commer had wanted to come up here to 'stretch his legs.'

"Then go 'play' in the holo-suite."

"Psh. I don't need no fantasy females!" the wolverine insisted, defensively. He puffed his chest out. "I has a opossum!"

"Lucky her," Sheila said, dryly.

"There's another reason we're here," Commer told the hare, more seriously than before. It was the main reason, in fact. He lowered his voice. "That traitorous bitch is back, yeah? She's in there?"

"Advent?" Sheila took a breath. How the hell did they find out about that? Graham had only told a few furs. Unless ... dammit, Seldovia! She nodded, reluctantly. "Yeah. She's back." Unfortunately. The hare had stayed away from the jaguar, letting Arctic's security officers keep an eye on her. I don't want to accidentally fire my weapon ...

The bear clenched his jaw.

Jale's eyes went distant. A blood-rage filling his being. "She almost killed me. I owe her," he whispered, blinking and looking, pleadingly, to Sheila. "You gotta let me in!"

"Why? So you can fight her? How'd that go for you the last time?" the hare asked.

"She caught me by surprise!" A dramatic pause. "Now, the turns are tabled."

"Tables are turned," she corrected.

"Whatever!"

"Look, I hate Advent as much as you. Believe me." She'd practically seen stars when Graham had quietly informed her that the jaguar had somehow installed herself as part of the Syndicate. The spotted predator was manipulative and crafty. Having her as part of the enemy power, and having her sitting in on key negotiations? Not ideal. But, ultimately, "Violence breeds violence," the hare declared, sagely. "We're not stooping to her level." Not this time. Not anymore. Besides, there were enough armed guards and telepathic bats in that room to keep her under control. Right?

The wolverine thought for a moment. Then sighed, dejectedly. "Just not fair."

"She'll get what's coming to her, Jale," Sheila assured. "Eventually. One way or another. Her past will catch up with her and she'll answer for her behavior." Whether it was now or ten years from now, she didn't know. But it would happen. She was certain of it. You couldn't stir as many hornets' nests as she did without eventually getting swarmed and stung.

"Do ya really think," Commer asked, genuinely, "Commander Graham an' them can come to terms with the Syndicate? Those bats, the lot of 'sem, far as I know, they've never negotiated with anyone. They follow their own code. That's what makes 'em 'rogue'."

"He seems to think they can. And I trust him." He'd proven to be a worthy superior. Fair-minded, patient. Understanding. And, with Ambassador Annika and Captain Aria, he had a whole team of logically minded snow rabbits to confront the Syndicate's twisted illogic.

"Mm," the bear grumbled, seeming more resigned than pleased.

"What other choice do we have?" Sheila continued, trying to convince herself as much as them. "It's war or peace." And as much as she enjoyed sparring, actual fighting was another thing. She liked order. And peace was far more orderly than hostility.

The bear's comm-badge chirruped. He slapped it, irritably. "What?"

"It's Sesqui," came the chipmunk's light, friendly voice. "Where'd you get off to? Been looking everywhere. Need your help on Reverie."

"Oh. Sorry. Be right there, babe."

Jale, ribbing his friend and swishing his stubby fluff-tail, said, "Booty call, eh?"

The bear scoffed with amusement. "Nah, had one o' those already." In one of the docking pylons, in an observation lounge. With the stars as a background. He licked his lips. Damn good lay. "Think this one is legit." A deep breath. "Back to work, I'm afraid. An' we should leave Miss Sheila to hers."

Finally. She'd begun to think they'd never leave.

"Guard duty, huh," Jale observed, shaking his head. His least favorite part of being a security officer. Boring! "Gives ya too much time to think, doesn't it?" the wolverine complained.

"Thinking never bothered me to much," the female replied.

"Well, it makes my heard hurt!"

Commer's chest shook with a barely-repressed laugh. He put a big paw on his feisty friend and shoved him down the corridor a bit. "Let's go, bud." And to Sheila, he added, "Good luck."

"I don't believe in luck," she said, before softening and adding, "But thank you anyway."

The skunk adjusted her earpiece and said, in as polite and cheerful a voice as possible, "S.S. Nome, you've requested departure and are cleared to disembark." She nodded, even though the fur on the other end, no doubt her communications counterpart on the mentioned ship, couldn't see it. It was habit, though. She couldn't talk without using body language. "Releasing docking clamps in three, two ... " She pressed a blinking button. A series of beeps on her end of the channel and a 'ker-clunk!' on the other.

Seldovia glanced at an animated readout. "Depart on heading ... " She read off a series of numbers which, honestly, she didn't understand. She hadn't been officially educated for this field of work. She'd picked it up out of necessity while on the run from anti-royalists. But the course would take the vessel away from the station safely, avoiding other ships, space junk, asteroids, or whatever. She briefly contemplated apologizing for the recent string of lockdowns and standoffs stemming from Reverie's hijacking and the Syndicate's arrival. But decided, no, this was the UT. If you'd lived here for any amount of time, as she had, you knew such disruptions were a normal, daily element. Instead, she said, "Thank you for visiting. Feel free to come again."

When the channel was cut, she took the earpiece out of her ear and ran a black paw through her white head-stripe. Blowing out a breath, she rolled her neck around. Mm-f. "I'm gonna need some backup the way this is going," she insisted.

"Hmm?" squeaked Herkimer, carrying a computer pad and moving from console to console. They were the only two currently in Ops.

"We're getting busier," she told the grey-furred mouse. "Or haven't you noticed? I mean, how many ships are visiting right now?"

"Um ... " The rodent counted on his blunt-clawed fingers. "Three transports. Or, well, two, now that one left. Though I think some of them are, uh ... 'pirate ships'," he theorized. As head of Operations, it was his job to check ship inventories and all that. Keep an report of ships and goods that passed through the station. "Those plants in Nome's hold were not medicinal," he insisted.

"Heh. And how would you know?"

"I wasn't born yesterday!" the oft-naïve mouse insisted, whiskers twitching.

"Well, certain drugs may not be allowed in the service of the High Command, but there's no law against them in the UT." The production of narcotics, liquor, and various other 'pleasure enhancers' was quite robust out here. For consumption and trade. The Furry Federation was known to be the UT's biggest customer. With predator/prey tension and political unrest seemingly at a constant in the Federation, it was easier for pirates to evade distracted authorities and unload their goods.

"This is a High Command station, though," Herkimer reminded.

"In UT space," was the skunk's counter. Which made jurisdiction on certain issues a bit tricky.

"Well, it wasn't just that. It was ... I can't prove it, but I know they were smuggling something else. Weapons or something." There had been a few 'trap' compartments within the hold of the ship. Every time Herkimer had gone to investigate, someone, normally a toothy predator putting on an air of intimidation, stopped him. "If we had more personnel, I could've done a forcible search. But it was just me, and ... " Well, he didn't want to get beaten up! Or worse.

"Mm-hmm. We've had six ships at the station, today," the skunk clarified. "Those three transports, two Syndicate vessels, and Arctic."

"Seven," Herkimer corrected, tail threading about.

Seldovia blinked.

"Reverie?" His mate, Talkeetna's, ship.

"Right," she remembered, wafting her luxuriously furry tail. "So, yeah, a lot of foot-paw traffic. And we're only gonna get more. What if, say, we have a dozen ships arrive one day? Or twenty? We're gonna need a new wave of officers eventually." Right now, they could handle it. But, eventually, when traffic started arriving around the clock? They'd need furs to man second and third shifts.

"I'm just glad the holo-suites with are self-sterilizing," Herkimer mentioned, bashfully. His dishy ears went rosy.

"Heh!" The skunk giggled. "Been popular with our guests?"

"Just, uh, a little ... "

She giggled more. "I wonder what program they've been favoring?" Before the stammering mouse could answer, her console trilled. The skunk cleared her throat. "Long-range transmission. Ship within a day's range." Her jet-black paws flew over her controls. "They want to know if we're open as a port of call." She replied that, yes, they were, and they thanked her for the confirmation. Didn't say if they were actually stopping by. But at least they asked! Word was definitely getting around.

"Why would they want to come here right now? Don't they know there's a crisis going on?" Herkimer asked. Right now, Graham and Aria were meeting with Syndicate representatives to talk about the current standoff both sides were engaged in. He was trying not to worry about it.

"You keep forgetting, Herkimer. This is the UT. Out here, every day is a crisis."

"We were here first," Marcus said. "It's as simple as that. If we strayed into High Command space and tried to set up an outpost, you would never allow it. You stray into our space and do the same? Why should we acquiesce?"

Annika took a deep breath. She'd been expecting such a retort. "All valid points. But this region is called the 'Uncharted Territories' for a reason. It's only been halfheartedly explored and mapped, if at all. You say this is your space? Yet, before our arrival, the Redwing system was entirely abandoned and unused. You only gained an interest in it after we did."

"A technicality," Advent accused, leaning back in her chair. Looking every bit as lazy as a feline could. "And an excuse. Is every single planet or system in High Command space utilized?"

Annika, resting her elbows on the tabletop, was forced to admit, "No, not every one."

"Then you wouldn't mind if me and my friends here ventured over the border and claimed some for ourselves," she replied with a purr.

Annika glanced at Graham, indicating he should answer that.

The commander, ears standing tall and proper, addressed the jungle cat. Whereas many of the crew felt angered and betrayed by Advent's escalating actions and eventual defection, he'd felt more disappointed than anything. As a commanding officer, he had faith in his crew. Just as he hoped they had faith in him. She'd proven his faith in her to be sorely misplaced. I should have known better. So much for second chances. "The High Command is a legitimate, long-established government. One that is recognized by every other respectable government in the quadrant. The Syndicate, meanwhile, is recognized by no one. Territories in the UT change paws on a near-weekly basis. Factions vie for power. Isolated planets keep to themselves rather than seek a greater union. The Syndicate," he said, pointedly, "is less a government than a mafia, a loose organization for bat-specific interests."

"That sounds positively inflammatory," Advent replied. "If you weren't a snow rabbit, I'd say you were mad."

"I simply do not like being threatened. Or postured to. We all know the only authority the Syndicate has over the UT stems from telepathic manipulation and bullying. They are the default ruling party because they are feared, not respected."

It was Marcus' turn to get angry. He bared his short, pearly-white fangs, sky-blue muzzle lifting in indignation. "You talk fancy, snow rabbit. You make insults seem almost pleasant."

"Our powers aren't illegal," a female bat, Willow added. She was Marcus' paramour. A lowly-ranked science officer. But, still, in the recent upheaval that had climaxed with Janna's murder at Advent's trigger-happy paws, Marcus, now in charge, wasn't sure who he could completely trust. Sharing Willow's bed, he was certain he could rely on her. So, he'd invited her to be a part of the negotiating team. "We were born with them. It's part of who we are," the pink-furred female argued, passionately. She'd studied the biochemistry of her species' telepathic powers quite thoroughly. "Our uniqueness should be celebrated, not derided."

"There is a difference," Annika said, carefully, "between giving into your instincts and using them to subdue others."

"We only use them against others when threatened!"

"Or when you want something you can't obtain otherwise," Aria added, speaking for the first time. Arctic's capable captain cut a more muscular figure than the demure, peaceful Annika.

Willow stammered and shook her head. She wasn't used to public speaking. It would be so much easier to use her telepathy and enter their minds and show them. Then maybe they'd understand! But, of course, they'd probably whine about being violated. The ignorant fools.

Marcus rescued his companion. "Do we use our powers for our own gain? Yes. Sometimes," he admitted. It was too tempting, and way too easy, not to. "Nature is about survival of the fittest. When you have an advantage, you use it. You do not squander it. I view us using our powers on others as no different than you, say ... " He gestured with a wing-arm. "Playing hardball with a superior to affect your mission parameters, or seducing your mate so he'll want to breed." He scanned the snow rabbit's mind. She was mated to a mouse. Who wasn't, by origin, an actual mouse? Interesting. "Mental powers aren't required to manipulate and control others." He glanced at Advent, darkly. "For example ... "

Advent tilted her head and smirked. "Such a flattering truth." She sat up straighter and stared down the trio of lead snow rabbits. "Persuasion is an art. And just because someone is naturally better at it than you doesn't give you the right to sequester them. It reeks of jealousy. If you want to be on their level? You try harder." As she had in outwitting Janna and removing her from the picture. It wasn't easy. It had required careful planning and mental discipline. But she'd done it.

"I suppose they have a point," Graham told Aria, reluctantly.

The white-furred female said nothing. Which, in itself, was admittance that they did.

"We shouldn't have to 'play dumb' to satisfy the insecurities of 'plain-brained' species," another bat, a male who had been silent until now, injected. "That's unfair!"

"Who are you calling a plain-brain?" a snow rabbit security guard demanded, ears twiddling with offense.

Aria raised a paw and her guard fell quiet. She would've had Elim in here instead of one of his junior charges, but she'd felt more comfortable leaving him in control of Arctic rather than, say, Mirabelle or Kaplan. Not that she didn't trust her other bridge officers. But she was much closer to Elim. They were on the same wavelength. If the two bat vessels docked at the station tried anything, he'd thwart them with precision.

Annika, using the awkward silence to re-enter the conversation, looked to the end of the table and reminded the Syndicate reps, "As you can see, we have a bat on our crew."

Barrow, who'd been quietly scanning their guests' minds the entire time, acting as a lie detector, tilted his head.

"I'd noticed," Marcus replied, unimpressed. And unworried. He'd felt the constant 'scanning' of his mind. But he was a stronger telepath than the wannabe rogue. He won't get anything valuable from me.

"We coexist with him," the ambassador continued, keeping her voice soft and gentle. But, then, it was rarely anything but. "And many other bats living in Federation and High Command space."

"You coexist with them because they conform to your comfort levels and expectations," Marcus said, glancing at Barrow with slight derision. Extending his telepathic feelers into the doctor's mind with practiced ease. "They bottle themselves up."

The periwinkle-furred male scowled at his equally blue counterpart. "I'm never afraid to be myself," he assured, using his own telepathic powers to slap at Marcus' 'feelers.' "I use my telepathy every hour of every day without shame. And without scorn from my 'plain-brained' friends."

The other bat blinked, getting the information he needed before withdrawing from the doctor's mind. He tilted his head. "I can see that." A pause. "But, from your thoughts, I know you've experienced prejudice from non-bats in the past."

"I have. And it's been painful. But bats aren't the only victims of prejudice," Barrow answered, fixing his gaze upon Advent. "For instance, my best friend is a mouse who, sad to say, took a lot of physical and mental abuse at the paws of a certain cat."

The jaguar scowled and insisted, "This meeting isn't about me."

He almost laughed at her false modesty. She craved attention. Her ego loved stroking. It was always about her. "I'm just using you to illustrate a point. My species has endured a lot because our powers are misunderstood and feared." He looked back to Marcus, now. "But it's disingenuous to have a 'persecution complex' when there's so many other species that endure the same or worse. Nature designed predators and prey to be at each other's throats. But we're not mere animals anymore. We have the capability to rise above that. We simply have to work together."

"How quaint," Advent commented, drolly.

"We don't view ourselves as predators," Willow said, simply. "Do you, Doctor?"

"No," Barrow replied. He, like most bats, identified as prey. "But the point stands. Acceptance is possible across barriers. Predator/prey. Bats/non-bats. In fact, I'm mated to a non-bat."

Marcus was wondering when he'd bring that up. "And she resisted your true nature for some time before accepting it."

"But she did," Barrow emphasized, "accept it. Accept me." A short breath. "We love each other."

Advent wanted to gag. The only thing worse than Sheila was imagining Sheila and Barrow fucking.

Barrow ignored her. "It just took time. Trust isn't instantaneous."

"We don't want to go to war with you, Marcus," Graham said, sensing that Barrow was done with his speech. "The High Command didn't venture into the UT to antagonize others."

"Then why are you here?"

"Surely, you've obtained that information from our minds already," Aria said, with a clear degree of discomfort. Of the three main snow rabbits at the table, she was clearly the most uncomfortable in the bats' presence. She didn't like to think of herself as intolerant. But coming from a security background, dealing with a species that could circumvent safeguards and authority and steal information at will? Well, how could that not unnerve her a bit? Sure, most bats might be well behaved, good-hearted citizens. But it only took a few bad apples to spoil things.

"We have." Marcus didn't deny that. "Gleaning surface information from your minds isn't meant as an invasion. It's meant to help us better accommodate you. To better deal with you. A deeper, more invasive scan usually requires biting." Generally. Unless you were a naturally-gifted telepath. As Janna had been. As he was. But he wasn't about to mentally 'rape' anyone. And, frankly, he found it incredibly offensive that anyone should think he would.

"He's right," Barrow said, sensing Aria would trust his word more than Marcus'. After all, he'd spent a few weeks on Arctic on the original journey to Redwing.

Marcus, hooking his elongated thumb and wing-tip around a glass of water, lifted it to his muzzle. And drank. He swallowed and sighed. I could go for something stronger. I thought snow rabbits were famous for their ale? "I sense you're telling the truth when you say that you're here to forge a relationship between yourself and the non-aligned governments of our region," he said, addressing Graham.

"I am," the tall-eared male insisted.

"But you are also here because the wasps, on their rampage to conquer the Federation and High Command and the rest of civilized space, came through the UT to do it." From somewhere beyond it. Somewhere unknown. But, still, "If they ever come again ... " Which was likely. They can't have been happy about being defeated. Once they had a new Queen firmly in place, who knew what they'd do? And, next time, they wouldn't spare any species. They'd all be at risk. "Any invasion will originate from this direction, and you want an early warning beacon. Redwing is both an olive branch and a lighthouse in a very cold war. You are here for security reasons as much as anything else. Even if, by chance, the wasps never return, you still don't trust the loose elements that exist in the UT. They threaten your precious borders. Pirates, illegal trading. General troublemakers. So, you are here to impose your society's influence upon them." A pause. "Upon us. Hoping we'll 'see the light'," he said, sarcastically.

"We have no desire to change bat culture," Annika assured.

Marcus stretched his wing-arms. He wasn't convinced.

"But you're right," Aria said, bluntly. "We're concerned about the security of our space. We've been through too many conflicts over the last few years not to be." Not just the wasps. The Federation. The Arctic foxes. The list was too long. "Surely, you can understand that." If the citizens of the UT could get their act together and abandon the pervading lawlessness, they wouldn't need to be here.

"You wish to mold this region into a tamer place? You will fail," insisted the unnamed male bat. "Furs have been trying for hundreds of years to bring the UT together. It can't be done. It's simply the nature of the place."

Willow nodded, knowingly.

"Let's forget that for a moment," Aria remarked, blowing out a breath. "You have your powers. We have a way of neutralizing them." The psionic wave weapon affixed to Arctic's tactical array. Which, honestly, she had no desire to use. "We're clearly at a stalemate. So, we can't change the culture of the UT. Just as you can't change ours. But we can still have a relationship." She glanced at Barrow. Him and Sheila. Her and Ross. "Interspecies relations are possible. And quite ... rewarding."

Barrow grinned at her veiled innuendo, raising a wing-arm to give an enthusiastic, "Seconded!"

"Let us, therefore, relate," Aria stated, looking back to the other bats. Spreading her white-furred paws. "We kindly request your cooperation." She almost sounded like Annika just then. And, in fact, the Ambassador could be seen nodding approvingly.

"Regardless of your undocumented claims on this territory," Graham told the Syndicate members, getting in one last subtle dig, "we agree that you were here first. But it was us who poured the resources and fur-power into rebuilding this station from the abandoned shell it was. We aren't going to abandon it after all that work. So, perhaps we can reach a compromise ... "

Marcus sat up straighter, his conical, sweeping ears splaying in anticipation. He was ready and willing to hear what they had to say.

"A joint venture," the snow rabbit stated. "A side-alliance between the Syndicate and High Command. Solely involving Redwing."

"And how would that work?" Advent demanded, uneasily. She didn't like the direction this was going. It was starting to get really lovey-dovey in here.

"We'd allow you to assign several of your bats to the station."

"How many?" Marcus asked.

"We would discuss that later. Suffice it to say, they could 'keep an eye' on us, to ensure we weren't doing anything to threaten or violate your sovereignty. They would have to answer to me, of course, and follow our chain of command. But they would be on loan from you. You would, through them, have access to all the information we acquired. From travelers, from the planet in this system ... from whatever you wish."

"And in return?"

"Simple. You let us stay here un-harassed. To continue with our mission."

"That is all?"

"I'd like to add something," Aria said.

Graham raised his brow, hoping she wasn't going to derail his offer.

"Assign a few bats to Arctic, too. And let us explore deeper into the UT."

Marcus squinted. "Why?" So they could search the heart of the Syndicate? Know the 'enemy' and its strongholds even better? The Quorum would never allow a heavily armed snow rabbit starship to travel that far into the reaches of the roost!

"Out of the question," Advent hissed.

"This entire region is unmapped. If there's uniform documentation of the places and power structures in them? It would benefit everyone."

"We don't require that."

"But it would ... "

"No," Marcus declared, forcefully.

"Aria. Please," Graham said, quietly. Arctic's captain outranked him. But he needed her to step down on this. "One thing at a time, hmm?"

She nodded, sheepishly. "Of course. I was simply getting ... overeager."

Advent rolled her eyes.

"Discarding Aria's enthusiastic suggestion," Graham said, looking squarely at Marcus, "do we have an agreement? It would be the start of a relationship between our sides. But it would be contained. You wouldn't have to worry about our influence spreading and threatening your own. And we would still have the outpost we need for security purposes." A pause. "And no one would have to get hurt."

"It is not my call to make. I will have to discuss this with the Quorum first," he replied. A hesitation. Looking at Willow. Exchanging private thoughts with her. "But I think this might be a feasible solution."

Graham gave a restrained smile of relief. "I am glad to hear it."

"I'll contact the necessary individuals. But there's much more to discuss." He took a deep breath. The list was long. "The ruins, for instance? There's likely ancient technology of great value buried beneath the sand of this system's planet." He knew for sure there was. It was just a matter of finding it and figuring out how it worked. "Who will search for and, once found, obtain possession of it?"

Aria tilted her head at this. Her ears twiddled. If the Syndicate wouldn't allow Arctic to map the UT, her ship could lead the survey of the desert world. Our sensors are advanced. And we'd close enough to both Redwing and the border to bring our teeth and claws to any call for help ...

"In addition," Marcus continued, "once the rest of the UT finds out about this little alliance, no matter how 'off to the side' it might be, how will they react? Will they begin forming their own pacts in order to counterbalance the perceived presence of our combined powers?" This was an incredibly complicated situation. Peace, like war, had repercussions. They were just different in tone. "The truth often becomes warped out here. Even if furs hear it, they are unlikely to believe it. They are too used to anarchy to take things at face value."

Graham nodded, quietly.

"My ship will remain docked at the station," the blue-furred bat said. For many more days, at this rate. "Can we meet again tomorrow? Same time?"

"Of course." The snow rabbit bowed his head.

"Good. Until then?"

"Until then," Graham said, extending an arm and paw across the table.

Marcus eyed it curiously.

The white-furred paw turned pad-up, fingers splayed.

Slowly, the bat extended a velvety, strutted wing arm toward the other male.

Graham took hold of Marcus' blue-furred thumb and wing-tip. And shook it, warmly. Then released with a nod.

Withdrawing his wing-arm, Marcus cleared his throat and stood up. The other bats did the same. They cloistered together for a moment. Quiet glances. Head tilts. Ears pitching upward. They were telepathically communicating amongst themselves, Graham realized.

While they did this, Advent remained slouched in her chair. Clearly unpleased. After all this tension, they were just going to ... be nice to each other? The fuck? Where was the fun in that? The Syndicate had the capability to take control of this station right now. Easily! She dug her claws into the edge of the table. Why was power entrusted to furs who weren't interested in using it? Makes me wish I really was in the Federation, she mused. At least, there, predators aren't afraid to inherit their birthright. But she couldn't challenge Marcus' stance. She had no home aboard Redwing anymore. Everyone hated her here. That being the case, she couldn't afford to be ganged up on and rejected by the bats. Not yet, anyway. Not until she could figure out how to use them as a springboard to something else. But, still, she'd thought she could exert more influence on these proceedings, and was depressed that she'd been all but ignored.

Barrow, brushing past her, leaned down and whispered into one of her rounded, fuzzy ears, "You made your bed, Advent. Now, you gotta lie in it. You've hated my species for so long, and the only shelter left for you is in our wings?" He chuckled, darkly. "That's poetic justice." And, sensing her earlier disdain at his coupling with Sheila, he added, just to make her even more uncomfortable, "Sheila's body? Mm-f. Puts yours to shame. There's just something about a hare ... "

The exotic feline launched upright and turned to slash her claws across Barrow's throat ...

But, even before she'd left her chair, two snow rabbit security guards hopped forward and aimed their phase pistols. She heard them thrumming, ready to fire. With her reputation, she doubted they'd set those weapons on stun. So, she clenched her patterned paws and glowered at the doctor. God, I hate him. "This isn't over yet."

"Oh, but I think it is. Later, Spots," he said, moving for the doors. They swooshed apart, into the bulkhead.

Advent, golden eyes squinting, watched as Barrow met with Sheila. They exchanged a few words. The hare gave a bark of amusement and shot a look into the room. And then, all touchy-feely, they moved off together. She wanted to maul something. Badly! Preferably them.

Marcus, who had been conferring with the other bats, gestured at Advent with a wing-arm. He sensed her volatility. But wasn't visibly afraid of it. "We're going back to the ship." Graham and Annika had already left, and Aria and her officers were parting as he spoke.

"I think you capitulated awfully quickly," the feline advised.

"I know you do." A subtle reminder that he was constantly scanning her thoughts. After being so thoroughly manipulated by her? He wasn't going to let his guard down again. "I gave up nothing we already had." Sensing another retort, he insisted, "We'll discuss it later. Let's go back to the ship. You installed yourself as my first officer, remember? If you want to remain in that position, you'll do your job."

Stewing, Advent followed the bats out into the corridor and into the nearest lift. Submissiveness didn't suit her. Dominance, like a muscle, needed to be exercised or it went soft. And she wasn't going to let that happen.

"You really think we can trust them?" Peregrine asked. An hour later, a small group was crowded in Graham's office overlooking Ops. Him, Annika, Barrow, Peregrine, and Sheila. Through the door-windows, Seldovia could be seen at her communications station, opening 'hailing frequencies' with Seward, her mate. The quiet, introverted snow rabbit engineer always came to life around the skunk. Their faces were so close together that their whiskers had to be touching. And, right on cue, a kiss. And then another.

Graham, slightly distracted by the pair's tender canoodling, blinked and glanced at Barrow, fighting the urge to grab for Annika's paw. Affection, however contagious, could wait. They still had business to discuss. "Well?"

Looking from Graham to Peregrine, the doctor replied from the couch, "They're as suspicious of us as we are of them. But there's clearly been a shakeup in their power structure over the past few days. Advent killed one of them. I gleaned that much. Unwittingly, I think she got rid of the individual who would've made things a lot harder on us. Marcus is much more reasonable." Thankfully.

"He seems amenable to diplomacy," Annika concurred.

"I plan on talking to Fleet Admiral Flint later today, via sub-space," Aria said, from a view-screen on the wall. She was back on Arctic. The patrol vessel was circling Redwing and keeping all sensors trained on both the border and the outer limits of the system. Just in case trouble stirred up. After all the tension between the High Command and the Syndicate during the past few months, it would be irresponsible to simply take them at face value just because they'd had a nice chat. Until a treaty was signed, she would be on guard.

"What will you advise him?" Graham asked. He knew she'd had some additional ideas about how the High Command and Syndicate should operate under the proposed alliance. And, though it was her right to do, he hoped she wouldn't use her rank to amend his plan.

"Only what we agreed on in the meeting to this point," she promised. She was a tough-minded rabbit. But a very fair one. "I think, at our mutual urging, he'll support our actions here. I've never had trouble dealing with him in the past." At one point, while serving as a constable on one of the Home-world's space stations, she'd been propositioned by him. She'd politely declined. But he still had a flame burning for her, and was therefore more apt to take her suggestions seriously. That's probably what Marcus had been alluding to when he'd mentioned her strong-arming her superiors.

"Keep me informed?"

"I will. See you tomorrow." With that, the channel was cut.

Graham, bobtail flicking, turning his attention back to Peregrine and asked, "Are you departing soon, yourself? Talkeetna seemed worried about making scheduled rendezvous points."

"She has every reason to be. Cause, yeah, we should've been on our way yesterday." The mouse squeaked worriedly and shook his head. "Buyers don't care what trouble you've been through. They just want their goods on time. We'll have to strain the engines to keep our appointments. But Commer thinks he can manage without blowing us up." A pause, and then a irreverent shrug. "Most likely."

"Very well. Depart when ready. And," the commander added, raising a paw, "see to it you come back to us in one piece? Redwing has come to rely on Reverie as a source of supplies. And friendship."

"Right. I don't want to end up as space dust, either." A light laugh. "We'll be fine. But, uh, there is one more thing ... " He looked at the other Redwing officers in the room, suddenly feeling awkward. Whiskers twitching and ears getting rosy. It was unusual for Peregrine to blush. He wasn't exactly a stereotypical mouse.

Graham's ears twiddled curiously.

"What is it?" Sheila wondered, breaking the silence.

"It's about Petra."

"You don't say?" Barrow smirked, having a lewd thought.

"And, just so you know, Talkeetna has agreed to it," the rodent added, quickly. "It's all mutual."

"I don't understand ... "

"A threesome!" the bat guessed.

"What? No!" Peregrine insisted, immediately. He seemed to pause. Hmm. Though that wasn't a bad idea! But he shook his head. Would never get both of them to agree to it. And what about Herkimer? It would have to be upped to an orgy. "Now that this business with the Syndicate is over with and Petra, under High Command protection, will presumably no longer be on their 'most wanted' list ... um, you are going to negotiate that into the treaty, right?"

"Of course," Graham insisted.

"So, it's safe for her to leave the station!" The bounty was off their heads. "I want her with me. On Reverie. She knows the ship. She knows the life. She could be my first officer." Long-distance mate-ships, quite frankly, sucked. It was torture being apart for long stretches at a time. This way, they'd always be together. "And, in exchange, you get Talkeetna." Who, in turn, would get to be with her mate. Love wasn't meant to be a distant, lonely light. It was meant to be a united fire. And the red squirrel was too capable a fur to be stuck on a dinky freighter. She was meant for bigger things. "I know Talkeetna doesn't have a High Command commission, but neither did Petra when you started all this. I'm sure you have the clout to get that taken care of."

"You're suggesting we swap our first officers?" While reassignments were a way of life in fleet service, an outright 'trade' of comparable officers was a bit unusual."Talkeetna's awesome, though! She'd be great for the station." The mouse was trying not to beg.

"If all parties are amendable, I see no reason why not." While he would miss Petra, he had to admit her enthusiasm for the post hadn't always reached the levels he'd hoped. Perhaps she'd be happier on the more laid-back, rough-and-tumble freighter? And maybe Talkeetna would likewise bring her more bushy-tailed approach to the station's roster? Most importantly, I don't want to keep mates apart. It still gave him a pang, though, to have his 'family' broken up in any way. But it's not like they'd never see the rat again. Reverie was using Redwing as its base of operations, after all. She'd still be a presence here.

"Good! Thank you. I'll be taking her on immediately. Talkeetna's already moving into Herkimer's quarters." He'd seen them on his way up here. Herkimer looked so relieved. He wasn't the type of rodent who couldn't bear being alone. Which was maybe why he'd rushed into a relationship with Advent upon arriving at Redwing all those months ago.

"You knew I would say yes?" Graham asked, raising a brow.

"You've always struck me as a romantic." The mouse winked and scurried out of the room.

"He is not far off," Annika quipped, gently.

Graham finally reached for her pretty paw. And squeezed it. "Guilty, I suppose."

"Looks like Herkimer's gonna be one happy mouse. If you know what I mean," Barrow commented with a chuckle.

"His quarters are near ours," Sheila added with a frown. All the squeaking.

"Like you aren't loud," the bat accused.

"I wouldn't know. I can never hear myself over you."

Graham waited until they'd stopped their bicker-flirting. Then dropped his mate's paw and said, with a sigh, "I suppose, all else being said, we should discuss our fallen angel."

"You mean demoness?" Sheila corrected, fluff-tail hiking upward. She crossed her arms tensely.

"Apt," he agreed, bowing his head. "We know she was hijacking Reverie to deliver to the Syndicate, but I was certain they would double-cross her. It seemed like such a reckless, desperate move on her part, I didn't anticipate her surviving it. Yet, she apparently circumvented their betrayal and ingratiated herself into their way of life."

"I wouldn't say 'ingratiated.' Marcus was barely tolerating her the whole meeting. He doesn't trust her at all. But he knows she's far more dangerous when loosened than leashed. He's really not sure what to do with her yet. But I don't think she's a threat to us any longer. Let her be their problem," Barrow insisted.

"It's just hard to move past what she did to us." And what she has the capability of doing again.

"I'm with Barrow," Sheila said, agreeing with her mate. "I'm through with her. She doesn't deserve the space in my head."

"We're all headed in a new direction, here," Annika said, helpfully. "It would be nice if we could come to terms with the past."

"Ideally, yes," Graham agreed, trailing off.

Barrow looked around, impatiently. "Are we dismissed yet?"

"Mm? Oh. Of course," he said.

The blue-furred bat draped a wing-arm around Sheila, sending private thoughts into the silver hare's mind.

"You just gave me a 'physical' last night," she slyly answered aloud. "Why do I need another?"

"Doctor's orders," he insisted.

The hare snerked.

Graham, himself, smiled with restrained amusement, and when they were gone said, "I never thought, when we first arrived here, to find those two acting so genial toward one another."

"It just goes to show that peace isn't impossible. You did well, today," Annika told her mate.

"As did you," he replied, appreciative of her undying support.

The prim female sat in the male's lap, fingers toying with his whiskers. She flicked them. "I think we are truly beginning to build something here. And when we ratify our alliance with the Syndicate, we'll finally be free to grow without restraint."

"I wonder if the hardest days are behind us or ahead of us?"

Reaching a paw down into his lap, she expertly poked and prodded. And then grabbed. And whispered into a tall ear, "I'd say it's hardest in the present."

Graham shivered. Oh, how right she was! Breathing a bit more heavily, Redwing's highest-ranked officer swallowed and tapped his comm-badge. "Graham to Seldovia."

Through the windows, the striped skunk could be seen jerking to attention. "Uh, yeah? Sir?" she replied with a start, looking over her shoulder toward the office. She blinked and waved, uncertainly. Hoping she wasn't in trouble.

Annika waved back.

"You and Seward seem restless. Perhaps a break is in order," Graham said, adjusting himself while he sat. His pants were becoming slightly ... restrictive.

The ex-princess cleared her throat. "Uh, I don't know what you saw, but we were just ... "

"You have an hour." He tapped at some computer pads, making sure they had no urgent matters to address. The station seemed to be operating just fine. For once! His paws left his desk. "Are they gone?" the male asked a few seconds later, looking back up. But only briefly. He was too busy freeing his erection to fully check.

"Am I allowed to be turned on by your ironclad authority?" Annika teased. "We could've just gone to our quarters," she told him, undoing her uniform shirt. That was her way of saying 'yes.' They wouldn't be spied upon. The skunk and male snow rabbit had cleared Ops without much hesitation. Stripping her shirt up, over, and off her soft, feminine figure, she turned her back to her mate.

Graham gladly undid her bra. Then fumbled at his pants again, finally loosing them and replying, "Yes, but we were already here. And I wanted to conserve my energy." Being in charge should have some perks. Correct?

"Are you expecting it to last that long?" she teased, sauntering over to the couch. It was beneath a big oval window that looked into space. You could see Arctic disappearing around the edge. Sleek and formidable. And one of the two bat ships.

He came up behind her and cupped her luscious breasts, kissing at her cheek, tearing his uniform-shirt off and promising, "I'm expecting it to be that good." He nuzzled and mouthed at her bare shoulders. Her fur, white as whipped cream, was delightfully soft and warm. And smelled so sweet. The shampoo and conditioner she used had a faint whiff of vanilla.

"Mm," she went, lolling her head aside.

He began grinding his exposed loins to her bobtailed rump.

"If this alliance ... " She panted, feeling herself being spun around. His strong paws on her hips. A moment of dizziness. Eyes drinking up his masculine chest. "If this works and the station starts to really bustle?" She placed her own paws on his shoulders as he mewed as he kissed his way down to her breasts. Her muzzle tilted upward, eyes fluttering. He was dancing a tongue on a hardened nipple. And, soon, began to suckle upon it. "You ... mm-h, may get promoted to captain."

Nothing but suckling noises. Then a slick 'pop' as he left the nipple for the other. This time, on the breast above her heart. "Thought had crossed my mind ... " Nuzzle, kiss, and suckle.

"Ah-h. If they ... if they offered you a ship, would you accept?" she wondered. As attached as they'd become to the old avian monstrosity, they weren't likely to be assigned to Redwing for the rest of their lives. That simply wasn't logical. Eventually, they'd be reappointed. Either when their original mission parameters was completed or when they were no longer deemed effective. The higher you were in the rankings, the more leeway you had in accepting or denying assignments, true. But, still ...

"Life moves by too quickly on a starship. Always hopping from one place to another. I prefer to savor ... " He glanced down, drinking in those breasts. It was hard not to keep coming back to them. But, then, he spied her mound. The fur was thicker there. "Mm-h." He reached down, rubbing her lower belly. Bumping noses, "I won't let them break our 'family' apart. Not if I can help it." Betrayed by Advent. Petra losing interest and giving her job to Talkeetna. He hoped that was the end of the personnel shuffling for the time being.

"I am relieved to hear it," she replied, softly.

"Enough 'business'," he insisted. As far as he was concerned, they were temporarily off duty. The day wasn't quite over. But it might as well have been. Who was going to complain if they took off early? He waltzed the lovely rabbit about, dipping her down and laying her upon the spacious, comfortable couch. It was still warm from when Barrow had been sprawled on it.

She bent her knees and lifted her legs, flashing her pussy at him.

"A peace offering, Ambassador?" he cooed, blue eyes sparkling.

"If you'll accept it, Commander," she murmured back, eying his stiff, dangling cock in return.

He crawled atop her, sniffing his way up her pelt. Nosing beneath her chin. Slotting his hips between her warm, lovely thighs. "I most certainly shall." He began to grind, lightly. Each gyrating bump working his rock-hard member closer to her opening. Until, without any real warning, he eased himself inside. "Ah-h," he sighed, closing his eyes. Oh, but she felt divine! "Ah, yes ... "

Advent restlessly stalked the corridors of the Syndicate vessel, lamenting on the décor. Too many primary colors! The carpet was too plush, lights too bright. And the air was scented heavily of bats. Male, female. Bats! She shook her head. This is my home, now? Guh. She was first officer. Everyone but Marcus would have to follow her orders. One position removed from commanding her own ship again! That's what she'd wanted, right? All this time? Yet she remained as restless as ever. She wasn't happy. Why am I not happy?

She stopped and planted her big, strong paws against a bulkhead. She pushed against it, tersely, arching her spine. Feeling her muscles stretch and burn. But she didn't stop. Force against force.

A female came around the corner and blinked, curiously.

"What?" Advent snapped.

"Nothing!" The bat shook her candy-pink head and quickly flapped off.

Easing off the wall, the jaguar sighed. Bats everywhere. A few weeks ago, she wouldn't have been able to stand it. But she'd screwed a few since then. Barrow, Janna, Marcus. None of them, Marcus aside, had been particularly great experiences, admittedly. But they'd nonetheless indoctrinated her. She was almost used to them. Even desiring, in her unguarded moments, that perverse telepathic 'union' thing they did when they bit. Solely for the 'dual' pleasures, of course. Not the intimacy stuff. I'm not that soft. The moment I am, I'll cease to be me.

You're stressed, Advent.

You're not thinking straight.

She nodded.

That has to be it.

She resumed her journey down the corridor. She wasn't going anywhere in particular. Just getting a lay of the ship. Where all the major departments were, where each corridor led to. As she made her way toward a lift, she cocked her angular ears. Unsheathed her claws. And, when the trailing individual least expected, she spun and pounced.

A chitter of terror!

Advent tackled the blue-furred bat to the floor.

"D-don't ... please!" he begged, eyes squeezing shut in fear.

Hissing, she pushed off him and reached for the weapon that had clattered out of his grasp. "You were going to shoot me?" she demanded. "You might've been more quiet about it. Heard you breathing."

His chest heaving, he clenched his jaw.

"I can smell your fear." She scoffed, checking the pistol. "It was on the lowest setting, kid. You barely would've stung me." She tossed it over her shoulder. It clattered to a stop against a wall. "Bet you've never fired one of those things in your life," she guessed, squinting and settling back on her haunches. Rump on her heels. Paws on knees. He looked to be in his early-twenties. "I know you ... " From the bridge.

"Y-you ... you killed Janna!"

"Yeah?" Ah, right. That one. "She was gonna get all of us killed eventually. I was doing everyone a favor." At least there was method to the jaguar's brand of madness. Janna was just plain mad. "Including you."

"I ... but I ... "

"Loved her? Yeah, you hated her. Then did an about face once she got her fangs in you." Advent knew all about that, having cursory information on most members of the crew from Marcus' mind. She accessed the memories as if they were her own. "Tam, is it?"

He nodded, weakly.

"Get up."

He blinked.

"Or are you going to disobey your superior?"

"Oh, uh ... no," he said, slowly standing upright. "No, ma'am."

She stood up, too, looking him over. Young, healthy. Clearly in a vulnerable state. Calling her ma'am? Perfect! She purred. After all the universe has put me through, it's about time I got something in return. "I'm still new here. I'm doing a self-guided tour of the ship, but I could use some help." She put a paw on his shoulder, lightly digging her claws into his uniform.

"Help? With what?" he asked, seeming to forget his haphazard plan to shoot her. He wasn't really a vengeful type anyway. But he was so confused!

"Well, I'm having trouble finding my new quarters." She nudged the blue-furred bat toward the lift. The doors whooshed open. "Think you could take me to them?" she cooed, letting her tail drape over his shoulder.

He looked up and faltered. "Um ... sure?"

She noted Tam's fangs were sharp. Designed for the perfect bite. But, then, she had fangs too. She smiled at him. Hers were sharper.

Annika mewed beneath Graham, delicate paws hotly splayed on his rising and falling backside, clutching at his soft, bobtailed rump. Then moving, impatiently, up his spine until they met in an outright hug.

Feeding off her desperate, diligent touches, the male pressed upon her, humping with powerful hips. No longer holding back.

She whined.

The two snow rabbits had been going at it for several minutes, maybe longer, meshing together like a snowstorm, a blizzard of white-furred bodies. Her heels dug into him each time he hit a sensitive spot. And, oh, he knew them well.

He jackhammered his wet, glistening length into her with endless energy. After the nature of those negotiations, he should be tired. But she always seemed to renew his spirit.

Annika simply squirmed, craving the friction. To have her walls brushed, her feminine strings plucked! To have notes stem from the sensations he produced in her? Voice broken, she begged for more.

The male snow rabbit churred and chuffed, wanting to oblige her. So badly. But, oh, not like this. He suddenly desired to reach the finish line from a slightly different vantage point. So, mid-coitus, he slowed and stopped. Hilting. Peppering her muzzle with simple kisses.

She panted and tried to kiss back. "Mm, mm ... "

"My ... my dear," he managed, breathlessly. It was hard to speak. His penis was tingling with such intense delight. He began to moan. Felt so good! She feels so good. He almost began to hump again when he remembered that he'd stopped for a reason. Oh. Right. Clearing his throat, he breathed, "My need for you is too wild to fathom." He could hear his pulse in his tall, slender ears. The inner linings of which had become noticeably flushed. "I want you on all fours ... "

She offered no complaint or resistance. But the couch wasn't quite built for being on paws and knees. It led to some wobbly, unstable stances. So, they moved, clumsy and pawing at each other, to the flat, carpeted floor, the female's bobtail flickering upright and staying there as the male crawled up onto her back and mounted her.

No slowness, this time.

No buildup.

They immediately bred like animals, looking nothing like the two highest-ranked officers on the station. Instead, like beasts, lost in the pure feel and presence of each other. Lost in the moment. Lost in passion ...

Like Seldovia and Seward were.

They hadn't made it to their quarters. They'd stopped, impulsively, at a walk-in storage locker. Where Seward kept most of his toolkits. He'd sealed them in.

She'd done a playful striptease.

He'd done an awkward one.

She'd laughed.

And, now, they were sinking to the floor. The insecure, gorgeous skunk lifting her large, billowy tail and relaxing her scent glad. A fine spray squirted into the air. And then again. Pheromones. Which her tail stirred to Seward's nose.

He sniffed, feeling it tingle. Then, his insides got warm, a fog falling over his mind. His whole body. Loose, sizzling. Incredibly relaxed. And horny. For her. Her scent drawing him like a magnet. In the hungriest, most irresistible way.

The skunk cried out as the snow rabbit fed his appetite. And stuffed her. They mated each other in a monochromatic display of clean white and handsome black, with the occasional stripe mixed in. She was a princess by birth. But, oh, he was making her feel like a queen.

Seward was too drunk with desire to properly think. He could only surrender to instinct ...

As, too, did Barrow and Sheila.

Unable to keep off each other.

Blue on silver.

Mating missionary-style on a bio-bed in the middle of the infirmary. All the read-outs on the nearby computer panel beeping and indicating increases in blood pressure and respiration! And eye dilation! And ... the bat, ignoring the mechanical alarms, was too focused on his genitals fusing with hers, cock being swallowed up by her greedy, clenching pussy. "Oh, fuck yeah," he muttered before he sank his fangs into the hare's neck. Releasing his 'mating milk' into her bloodstream.

The hare slapped a chrome-furred paw against his rudder-tailed ass.

"Mm-f!"

"Pace yourself," she slurred, teasingly. "Want it to last." The bite was painless. He was so good at making sure it didn't hurt. Her heart skipped beats as she waited for the telepathy to extend to her. Sheila, once so harshly resistant, embraced the link. The almost unbearably addictive pleasures of it. The knowing. The feeling. It happened in an abstract whirl. Their minds, their bodies merging. Memories. Thoughts. Emotions. Sensations. Nothing was hidden. Everything was shared, furiously.

Him and her.

Everything.

Oh, the love ...

Like the sweet, simple love between Herkimer and Talkeetna.

The only couple actually in bed.

The mouse had fallen for her, and hard, the moment he'd laid eyes on her. Never before or since had he felt anything like that sudden, shocking attraction. Nor did he think he'd actually end up with her. But he had. She'd been the perfect antidote to the toxic relationship he'd had with Advent. That seemed like so long ago!

She'd spent all her life in the UT, in space, on freighters, meeting hardened, worldly characters. She hadn't realized the innocence Herkimer possessed was even possible. It was bright, pure. Intoxicating. She couldn't get enough of it. And, now, she'd be living on the station. The nights of laying in bed alone, looking at the star-scape and wondering if the other was thinking about you? Those were over. Now, she could look into his eyes and know for certain.

There was no more distance between them.

No distance at all.

Their lips locked, sliding, smacking. Herkimer had gone down on her a few minutes ago. Slowly eating her out. She could taste herself on his muzzle. And, somehow, this thrilled her. She wanted to return the favor. Giving him a smoldering glance and swishing her impossibly fluffy tail, she moved down his body and pushed his thighs apart and, oh, the resulting squeaks!

Her head bobbed up and down.

The mouse clutched at the bed-sheets.

Eyes watering. Reaching for her ...

Redwing's entire senior staff had unknowingly synchronized their actions. Together, blissfully spread across the station, they knew nothing but love. Had Graham been aware of the fact, he wouldn't have hesitated, once getting over his initial amusement, to insist he felt better than any of his crew. No offense to them. But to be a male rabbit? And to have a female rabbit? There was nothing more potently sexual. Was there?

Annika's breasts jiggled freely and heavily.

Sucking air past his buckteeth, the commander plowed into her velvety, steamy tunnel, that ripe, delightful flower. Reaching around. Fumbling at her clitoris. Tweaking at her nipples. Quick, impulsive touches before he was forced to hug her tightly, with possession, thrusts becoming increasingly erratic. He was losing it. Closer. He shook and buried, grinding, hilting. Huffing on his mate's neck. Closer! His desperate breaths washed up to her ears.

She came before he did. A sudden tsunami. Her walls rippling, undulating around him. Her whole body shook. Milking him, insistently. Breaking him down. Wave after wave of pleasure. She hung her head, maw open. Tongue peeking out. "Mm. Mm-f ... " Her pussy got even wetter. It began to drip. "Nn-h, nuh!"

"Ah! AH!" Graham froze, whiskers going numb. Ear-tips, too. Her release was a beautiful thing. And it spiked his desire tenfold, toppling him into the abyss. Bam! Burst! Jerk! Spurt! He needed air! He gasped and groaned, sighed and moaned. His eyes rolled back. "Oh-h ... " He had the feeling of melting. He just breathed. Simply existed. And held to her. And then, blinking hazily, suddenly realized it was over. For how long? Seconds? Minutes?

Annika had lowered her head and shoulders to the floor, drool on her whiskers. She seemed fully entrenched in afterglow.

Shaking his head in an attempt to regain some level of focus and control, the male rabbit eased back, getting to his knees. He patted his mate's rump fondly. Giving it an eventual squeeze.

She looked up at him with a restrained smile.

"My love," he said, simply, scritching and rubbing her back, remaining inside her for now.

"And mine," she responded, hazily.

Their bobtails flicked and flared in unison. Hearts still racing. Minds fogged. Bodies satisfied, wholly, deeply.

The rest of the crew was in a very similar state. On the edge of known space, where they'd first found each other? They remained together still. While beneath them, the station's power core hummed. As it had done for five hundred years. And who knew how many more? Perhaps that didn't matter. Maybe they were all winging it. Maybe they didn't always know what they were doing. But the importance was in the attempt. And they would keep trying until they no longer could.