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Welcome back, my lovely reader~

Being a writer is my dream job but it has full-time hours and doesn't pay the bills. I want to keep writing these stories for everyone to enjoy and your support on Ko-Fi helps make that happen. I also appreciate non-financial support like faving, voting, and following me here or on BlueSky. Thank you so much for your continued support! Please enjoy the episode.

And with that out of the way…

Welcome back, my lovely reader!

I hope you’re enjoying the tale so far, lovely! There’s a lot of drama on the horizon and that’s before our vixen even leaves orbit!

If I may speak candidly for a moment, let me just be clear about my vision for this story. This is a tale about the ship and its crew more than epic space battles or galactic politics. Just keep that in mind as we go through this tale. However, like all my stories, I write them by the seat of my pants, so your guess is as good as mine on where this will all end up!

Well, that’s enough from me, let's check in on our vixen as she officially meets her crew, some of which she may have wished she hadn’t!

Let’s jump right in!

—*—

Episode 2:

No Regrets

-*Captain’s Log- SD: 242 - July 12th Standard Federation Time.*-

I’ve accepted a full reinstatement of my position to the USF and agreed to captain the exploration vessel known as The USF Occam, an interesting if not ironic nod to the Earthling philosophy of Occam’s Razor. Well, he’s certainly going to present fewer arguments in any debates needing firepower up in the void, Admiral Nelson has already informed me of the size of my crew, and I may as well be captaining a urb-world civilian bus liner!

I’m making this first entry while I await the component processing unit that is producing my uniform after undergoing image scans of my body and tails. I’ve insisted I get a first-generation skirt and leggings uniform, as opposed to the current standard of slacks. The open-faced vest with my Captain's Star on the left breast pocket will have to do. I simply won’t be spending my cycles in a stuffy uniform that doesn’t show off my assets, I’m a Salarian after all and we pride ourselves on our diplomacy, no faster recourse to open negotiation than a flash of thigh or showing the curve of breasts in the snug top under my vest.

It’s a pain having to re-learn Earth standard dates for these log entries, why do they need such a convoluted system of time-based on months and day/night passes? Twelve months, upwards to thirty-plus days in some, other times less? Simply use a seasonal based calendar like we do back on Salaria! It’s four entries, no need for all these day/night cycles to be managed… Earthlings are so odd sometimes!

My uniform and equipment are ready, time to go see what dinghy I’m steering about with my paltry crew of one twenty… I’m half expecting it to have an ancient wheel and rudder on it! Hah!

-*Finish Entry*-

The door to the dressing room hissed open as Junon strutted out in uniform for the first time in almost six years. She was provided comfortable flats instead of heels, and dark tights that moved up her legs to disappear into her skirt that hung just above her knees. A matching bodice held her waist snugly, hugging her breasts to shamelessly show them off while being thick enough to not show the chain between them. A sharp, sleeveless military vest matching her skirt, in a bright red hue standard for Commanders, showed off her Captain’s star. It draped over her chest to at least offer some form of professionalism and modesty to offset the skin-tight, brazen display of her small, curvy body.

Her left paw settled on the pommel of a blade, beside a holster that held her phaser. The sword was of Salarian origin, with a wide curved blade strongly resembling the Earthen shamshir.

Once she was standing before Andrew, Junon flourished her free paw, giving him a little turn to inspect her as she showed her teeth. “What do you think, Admiral?” She casually pushed her right paw down to lift the skirt, just enough to show off some outer thigh, revealing a garter strap that actually held up her tights, along with just a faint glimpse of skimpy panties, before she dropped the red skirt back down.

“You look… amazing, Junon,” Andrew mewed. She watched his gloved paws flex, as if he was struggling to keep himself from reaching out and touching her. Junon just gave him a knowing grin as she stepped back.

She drew her curved blade, looking it over with a scrutinizing eye. “I programmed the refiner to compound Salvarian Retroquartz when it formed this blade, but I’m wondering if its accuracy is dubious,” she growled. She plucked a long blonde hair from her head and held it over the blade, watching as it easily sliced the narrow strand in two. “Good enough,” she huffed, sheathing her weapon with a flourish. “I’ll need to get to the holo-suite to refresh myself on training once I get settled.”

Andrew loved seeing her like this; Junon had always had a confident prowess about herself, in both her martial and her command skills. He straightened up and flourished a paw towards the exit of the room. “Shall we be on our way to your ship, Captain?”

“I’d rather be on my way to your bed, Admiral… but I suppose that really must wait…” Junon hiked her trio of tails and strutted out with her nose poked up. Her tails strategically lifted her skirt as she walked in front of him, giving him a shameless glimpse of her perky backside and showing off her panties, which did little to cover the white-gold fur beneath. She heard Andrews's deep purr at the view, flashing a grin over her shoulder before settling her tails back down.

His First, Brox, joined the two as they walked down the corridor. Unlike before, Junon walked next to the Captain now that she had her star on again. “So, will we be taking a shuttle over, or transporting?” she asked.

In answer to her question, Andrew offered a small packet that she recognized: a nausea-inhibiting strip, designed to aid in transportation. Junon took it and shoved it right onto her tongue, and the whole thing instantly dissolved. She smacked her tongue a few times. “Was that Marvulian Nectar flavored?”

“I’d expect nothing less from your keen sense of taste, Junon, you are an excellent baker after all!” Andrew mewed with a grin.

“Captain Topaz, if I may.” Brox stopped as they came to a stretch of the corridor with an impressive view of the vast expanse of stars, ships, and the planet below she’d just left. He pushed his paw out, directing her attention to a certain ship. “From here you can see her, third from the left.”

“My my, what a lovely view…” Junon took it in, then perked her ears as she counted the ships. She shook her head rapidly in disbelief. “Cresh cha!” she barked. “Andy! That cannot be my ship! That thing is as big as a destroyer!”

He gave a smug purr and put his paws on his hip. “Aye, and just as well armed as one. That girl is equipped with the latest advances in Earth, Denlazi, and Salvarian tech!”

“Salvarian?! Why would my people be willing to assist in such a thing? We are allies but we are not so eager to waste our resources on vessels of war needlessly!”

“Salvaria was keen to assist when they discovered the hero of Ralstan III would be flying it,” Brox explained, clasping his paws behind his back. “The only Salarian to ever rise to the status of Captain, and one with a rather impressive record of victories to boot. It was a matter of national pride. The result is that ship there, the best in her class.”

Junon snarled and looked the large ship over once more. It was sleek and polished, shining in the light of the dual stars of the system, enrobed with glorious silvers and purples, with the USF logo emblazoned across the bow. Despite her distaste, she had to admit to herself that it was an impressive vessel. “Cresh cha… All these bastards just so sure I’d accept,” she growled. Then, she shot a glare at the pomeranian. “Also stop referring to MY ship like that, he’s mine so stop saying her this and her that, both of you!” Junon barked out in a fussy tone.

“My apologies Captain Topaz, I meant no disrespect! He’s a fine vessel, ma’am!” Brox offered her a formal salute in respect.

Andrew laughed and then offered a soothing purr as he put a paw on his hip. “Anyway, he’s using some of the latest computation, AI, and nano-technology, so a crew of one-twenty can do the work of four hundred. That’s why you’ve got a light crew, Junon.”

She snorted and shook her head before glancing up at Andrew. “Seriously though… All this for me and one ship?”

“Well, the Salarian council is also looking to establish a new colony world if we find fruitful planets,” Brox cut in, “so it’s within their interest. One of the agreements in the technology alliance was since their Captain and their tech were at the forefront, they got the first choice.”

“More bureaucracy…” Junon sighed and jerked her head to the side before turning to face the corridor once more. “Alright, let’s go to Transportation then.”

As they stepped into the transport bay, the crew all offered crisp salutes as Brox bellowed the Captain’s presence. Junon instantly picked up on an awkward emotional shift from Andrew, being so close in his proximity.

“Andy,” her words echoed in his mind, “I can sense your trepidation. What is bothering you?” Her mismatched eyes looked up at him.

“Ah, I’ve been meaning to tell you something about your First Officer, but there’s never been a good time for it,” he responded. She saw his jaw set as they walked onto the transporter pad, just her and him.

“Andrew Nelson, what are you hiding from me?” She showed her teeth and gave him a snarl, her ears going flat.

“Your CO is a decorated and very loyal member of the Federation, Junon! Please keep that in mind, please!” His thoughts sounded panicked - and her eyes widened as she immediately realized why.

“Two to transport over!” The crew spoke out sharply.

Junon snarled up at him out loud, “Andrew! Cresh cha! I’m going to-” The transporter activated and her vision blanked white. A few moments later, it returned as she clutched her forehead with a snarl, stepping back slightly before straightening herself up.

“Captain and Admiral on the bridge!” A sharp, deep female voice growled out. Junon's eyes adjusted to see a large Rashvian holding a salute along with the rest of the bridge crew.

There was a long, pregnant pause as everyone held their salutes. The only sound on the bridge was the audible chirp of the various consoles and a faint, nervous hiss coming from the Admiral.

Junon growled deeply at the wolf, who stood perfectly still at attention with a steely green-eyed glare. She had long crimson hair that fell to her hips, with fluffy canine ears folded flat on her head. Her chest was plump but modest for her muscular frame, enough to make the blue-black uniform noticeably push out. Over the peaks glimmered her various stars and awards, as she was in full formal dress.

The fox’s eye twitched, and she shot a glare at the cat beside her, before fluffing her tails, snapping her own paw up, and snarling back at the Rashvian, “At ease…”

“First Officer of the USF Occam, Leona Sussnel,” the Rashvian announced. “Welcome aboard… Captain.” The contempt was clear in her voice. Of course, it was; what Rashvian hadn't heard the tales of ‘The Butcher of Ralstan III?’ Junon had one of the largest bounties on her head during the war before peace was made.

“Admiral… A moment if you will?” Junon snarled as she wheeled on one flat and stomped over to the corner of the bridge with the most privacy. She was already in his head as he followed. “Andy! Is this some sick joke?! Get her off my fucking ship, now!”

He knew she was really furious… She wasn’t even using Salarian slang. “Junon, the Rashvian have been our allies for nearly five years and she is an ambassador from their home world, she's the best of their best and-”

Junon's paws clenched into fists, her claws digging into her pads. “Then let her fly the damn tub and I'll go home! Get her off my ship or give it to her, that's your-”

“Permission to speak,” the wolf’s strong voice called out as she approached the two of them.

“Denied!” Junon hissed while glaring over her shoulder.

“Captain Topaz, please,” Leona huffed, offering an apologetic salute.

“Fine!” Junon wheeled on the Rashvian, paw readied on the pommel of her sword. “What is it?!”

Leona took a steadying breath before hissing out, “I had little choice in this assignment, but I was well aware you would be the potential Captain of this vessel. I simply ask that you peruse my personnel file before making any rash decisions.”

“Oh, you want to see rash?!” Junon snarled. But harsher words died in her throat as she, with great effort, reined herself in. She eased the grip on her sword and then rubbed a paw down her face, smearing some of the blush she'd applied to her cheek fur.

“First Officer, show me and the Admiral to my quarters, I have much to think on and some reading to do,” Junon shifted back into a more proper military tone. The strain in her voice was clearly audible.

“Right this way, Captain.” Leona turned with a flick of her bushy crimson tail, careful to not brush it against her superior as she strode forward. She easily had two heads on Junon, even standing slightly taller than Andrew. Like most Rashvian, she had the powerful frame of a natural warrior.

The trip was silent. Junon didn’t even bother talking to Andrew through their connection. Tension hung in the air between them until they arrived at the door of her quarters.

“Here you are, Captain.” Leona offered another salute as she faced the other dog.

“I will address the bridge crew proper in one hour, have everyone in standard uniform. I detest the posh and pomp of formal dress, dismissed.” Junon flicked her tails up and marched into her quarters.

Leona gave the Admiral a glance with critical green eyes, questioning his judgment on this matter, but said nothing as she turned and marched back towards the lift. Andrew gave a small gulp and followed Junon into her quarters.

“Computer, synthesize me a shot of Denlazi Bourbon!” Junon barked out with clear heat in her voice.

The computer responded in a smooth male voice, “Captain, need I remind you that Federation ethics protocol number three twenty-seven states that no officer may partake of-”

“Dreth tra the protocol, make my damn drink!” She snapped, quieting as the computer made a chirp of acknowledgment and the food synthesizer began producing the alcohol.

“You know, that will be recorded on your log for High Command to see,” Andrew mewed as he stood there with his paws crossed before him.

“Yeah, just wait until the Admiral finds out, right?” Junon threw the shot back, then huffed out at the burn before throwing the tumbler across the room and glaring at the cat. “What were you thinking, Andy?!”

Andrew cleared his throat, “It wasn’t my call… I believe this had something to do with the alliance. Rashvia provided resources to help with-”

“How many worlds have their dirty fucking paws in this pie, Andy?! I didn’t sign back on for this bureaucratic cloak and dagger toth!” Junon stomped over to him, shoving a padded finger into his chest.

He hissed and lowered his ears, looking away. “Junon, I’m sorry…”

She looked genuinely surprised by his reaction, making a small gulp as she saw the sadness on his face. Shaking her head, she pushed her paw up to rake her claws through his jaw fur, drawing him to look at her. “Come here, lean down…” she whispered.

He did so, lowering to one knee, and she pushed her forehead to his own, taking a ragged sigh as she cupped his jaw. “I’m sorry for snapping at you, Andy… Rashvians and I… I mean…” she shook her head and cradled his face in both her paws, kissing his lips a few times, her lipstick lingering on his muzzle. She then touched their foreheads together again, taking the conversation inside.

“Racha, I am a temperamental Vixen, but I went too far, will you forgive me?”

“Junon, I should have told you sooner,” Andrew thought back. “I was just so worried about getting you to agree, getting you back in my life. I should be the one to apologize…” His paws slid over her hips. His muzzle rubbed against her own, and the two scent-marked each other while speaking in their minds.

“I don’t like this… But you’ve done so much for me, the least I can do is try to give her a chance.” She gave his jaw a small lap before they parted their embrace.

Andrew stood back up, looking more at ease. He looked out towards the window, towards the starry view of the void. “Junon… Do you hate all of Rashvia on principle?”

“No! I mean…” She clenched a paw and snarled. She told herself she didn’t, told herself she wasn’t some bigot towards any species, but then she thought about her former Captain and lover. “I… don’t regret the things I’ve done, Andy. I don’t… but I don’t want to just hate an entire species over it either.”

He nodded and opened one paw. “Please, give Chief Officer Sussnel a chance. She’s not happy about the assignment either and told me as such off the record.”

“No doubt, to her and most Rashvians, I’m a monster, and during that time, they wouldn’t have been wrong,” Junon paced over to look out the window as well, paws clasped behind her. “Did I tell you about how it went down after the boarding team failed to take the ship?”

“You didn’t…” He moved over to her, placing his paws on her shoulders. They both stared out into the void together. He had seen some of the footage from the ship’s cameras, but only what he had been cleared to see: the boarding combat, not its aftermath.

“The weapons officer, she begged me to reconsider, told me Captain Alwritter wouldn’t have wanted that…” Junon gave a small, pathetic-sounding bark of a laugh. “Heh… I shoved her aside, leaned over the console, and pulled the trigger myself, so to speak. As I watched the torpedos tear the ship apart, I just felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction…”

Andrew said nothing as he just stood there, his jaw growing tighter as he swallowed. Junon shook her head and continued, “The other ships weren't such helpless targets, but I felt the same each time. Seeing them break apart, it satisfied me, and to this cycle, I should feel remorse, but I don’t. Do you know why that is, Andy?”

“Why?” He asked as calmly as he could.

She turned to look into his eyes, her mismatched eyes fierce and emotional. “Because the stronger a Salarian’s bond is, the more traumatic it is when that link is broken… I’m not making excuses, but I also feel that if I ever lost you…” She shuddered and stepped away, pinching her snout as she seemed to focus. “I’m getting off on a tangent…”

“Junon, I understand… I feel your bond with me, and I can feel that edge of madness in my heart whenever I think of losing you… We don’t have to have the Nephylle ritual for me to feel my soul is entwined with yours,” He stepped to her and offered a paw. Junon slid her own into his grip.

“I should apologize for forming such a strong psychic bond with you, but I’m not sorry, my racha… ” She pushed into his chest, releasing his paw to hug him close.

“I’d accept no apologies from you, I’m happy to have it…” His claws dug gently into her back as he held her in return. “You gonna give it a fair shot then?”

She gave him a small nod. “I will, Andy… I’ll apologize to her for the outburst, and I’ll try to smooth things over.”

Junon met with the bridge crew an hour later as planned, offering a proper, formal introduction, explaining what she expected from each of them, and closing by saying she’d prefer to have an open-door style policy where anyone could talk to her if they had issues.

The Rashvian noticed her approach soon after her speech. Once Junon was close enough, she offered a salute. “Captain?”

“A moment if I may, First Officer?” Junon jerked her head to the side as she started walking away from the bridge, back to the lift. The two rode it to another deck, then Junon stepped out to look out a glass wall that overlooked the void.

She folded her paws behind her and spoke at last, “Allow me to cut to the chase. I wish to offer an apology for my disrespectful treatment of you upon my arrival in front of the crew. We are both members of the Federation and-”

“Permission to speak freely, ma’am?” Leona interjected.

Junon cut her eyes back to see the fierce glare in the wolf’s own gaze. This wasn’t going to be good and she knew it. She closed her eyes for a moment before nodding and looking back out the window. “Granted.”

“I spit on your apology. It can rot in the void as I hope you do one cycle,” The Rashvian’s voice was ice-cold.

Junon cocked a brow as she responded, “Interesting… So you think-”

“I’m not finished!” She barked with a deep snarl. Junon offered a warning growl but flourished a paw, rolling it for the wolf to continue. Leona spat, “I know all about your story. Your beloved was killed along with a lone member of security, but you think that gives you the right to murder my kinsmen in cold blood?!”

Junon cut her eyes at the larger dog and gave a snort, but said nothing as she looked back out the window. Leona practically howled in fury as she grabbed her Captain’s shoulder, wrenching the smaller dog around and barking down in her face, “Answer me! Do you know how many were on that fucking ship, Salarian!?”

“Two hundred and seventy-five. If you count the boarding crew members I killed with my own paws? Two hundred and eighty-four. And the last one…”

Junon pulled the wolf down to eye-level by the front collar of her uniform and continued with her own icy growl, ”I strangled her to death while beating her head into the floor of my bridge.” Junon released her collar and slapped the wolf’s paw off her shoulder. “Don’t put your paws on me, Rashvian.”

Leona’s muzzle wrinkled in a deep snarl, her paw stinging as she flexed it. The slap was harder than she expected from such a small bitch. “Your loss did not give you grounds to fire on a helpless vessel that had surrendered, you should have faced a tribunal for war crimes, not been honored as a hero!”

“Your species should not have declared a surprise war upon us! Your species should not have killed my racha! Your species,” Junon raised up on her toes to glare into the wolf’s green eyes, their chests pushed together, “should not have been so weak!”

She saw the wolf’s pupils shudder with rage. Leona drove a fist right for her jaw - but Junon caught the strike at her wrist. There was the sound of a harsh crack, before the Rashvian gasped and howled in pain

“I told you not to touch me,” the smaller fox hissed, deftly hooking a foot around Leona’s leg and slamming her to the carpeted floor. With one swift motion, Junon drew the sword at her side and shoved the tip to the wolf’s throat.

“Anything else you wish to say, First Officer?” Junon snarled as she showed her own sharp teeth, her three tails swaying behind her as she twisted the blade, just enough to leave the threat of a cut.

“I hope you rot in the abyss of Ullderhan!” Leona spat, fury and agony glistening in her wet eyes as she clutched her arm.

“If that is your species' equivalent of a location for an afterlife of punishment, I’ll be in good company with the hundreds of your bloodthirsty ilk I personally sent there.” Junon sheathed her sword and gave a composed huff.

As Leona snarled at her again, Junon casually raked her claws through her hair. “If there’s nothing more, First Officer, report to medical to get that fractured wrist tended to, then return to your duties.”

-*United Space Federation Data Archives*-

-*Species Dosier #219*-

Rashvians:

Natives of the world of Rashvia, in the star system Ryujyka. Rashvians are an intelligent earth-like species that exhibit lupine characteristics. They are one of only two known spacefaring species that are exclusively female, the other being the Denlazi. Rashvian society is organized within a caste system, the lowest group in the hierarchy (Fhiel, meaning ‘slave’) being made up of other species kept as suitors for producing offspring.

Any Rashvian can breed with nearly any male of another species; however, no Rashvian can reproduce with another of their species. Additionally, given the unique DNA composition of this species, the offspring will always have the mother’s genetic markers and be female. In order to facilitate the survival and continued propagation of the species, aggressive, militant governments would traditionally enslave males of other species and force them to provide acceptable DNA.

Rashvians tend to be highly nationalistic, many of them being trained warriors, and their culture places deep pride in their heritage, strength, and conquests. Nothing will infuriate a Rashvian more quickly than insulting her people’s strength.

Rashvians have a high gestation rate thanks in part to their short pregnancy times and rapid estrus cycles, sometimes having up to three cycles in one USF month equivalent. Pups also grow quickly and can reach full adulthood within fifteen USF standard years. This coupled with their aggressive nature makes them an extremely threatening species that can rapidly refill their ranks, using captured males from defending species during wartime.

Despite their intimidating and aggressive natures, some Rashvians do form loving, consensual, lifelong relationships with some males, and there have been cases of prisoners being elevated from the Fhiel class to Shulkei (Husband). Their culture even has traditional life-bonding rituals for such occasions.

-*End Archive*-

“Putting paws on a superior is a serious offense, Junon, are you sure you don’t want to call a tribunal?” Andrew asked, standing to the side of her inside the holosuite in off-duty attire. Junon was dressed in just a sports bra and some shorts, setting her stance before a training dummy.

“I will let her be…” Junon hopped and delivered a snapping kick to the dummy, sending it reeling back before its stabilizing chain groaned and swung it back forward. Her paw quickly drew a wooden sword at her hip, giving it multiple slashes and another kick before she reset her stance again.

“But… She attacked you!” Andrew mewed out in protest.

“I pushed her into the real stuff, she just grabbed my shoulder and I won’t be such a little rajha as to call a tribunal over my bruised ego from that!” She fluffed her tails before puffing out a breath, letting her arms droop, and picking up a bottle of water. As she took in a few gulps, her chest heaved, her fur sweaty, and her breasts compressed in the snug sports bra.

“Are you really okay with this, Junon?” He sighed and folded his arms, trying not to stare at her sweaty body too intently.

“You said it yourself, am I just some bigot? I checked the crew manifest… I’ve three other Rashvian officers in other positions throughout my crew. How will they feel if I court-martial one? Warranted or not, we know what they’d think.” Junon put her paws on her hips, panting slightly.

“Do you care what they think, racha?” He tilted his head.

“No, but as Captain, I do care about the wellbeing of my crew, all of them, and I care about the efficiency of how my ship is run. They don’t have to like me, but I don’t need them skulking around thinking I’ve got it in for them either. There is nothing I can do to win any of them over, and I’m not so stupid as to think there is, but I won't make their tenure a hostile one.” Junon growled and sat the water bottle down, moving over to Andrew as her trio of tails wagged.

“So that's it? You'll just let her be? What if she attacks you again?” Andrew hissed his disapproval.

“Look, Andrew, I'm sure you studied Rashvian culture just like I did during the war, know your enemy and all that. Anyway, they respect power and they prefer a sort of, alpha pack leader structure.” Junon snorted and looked away. “If I put her on her tail enough times, that'll do more than any apologies or discussions ever will to win her trust.”

“I suppose I'll let you tend to your crew as you see fit, Captain Topaz…”

“Thank you for caring, my racha, but it will work itself out, I promise. There's no need to destroy the girl's career.” Junon stretched, then closed the distance to push into his chest, hugging close to him.

Andrew wrapped her arms around the smaller fox, her scent of sweat enticing, mingled with the soap she'd washed with prior.

“So… The fleet leaves tomorrow?” Junon asked while nuzzling his chest.

“Yes, it's about a three-cycle trip to Aldebaran from here,” Andrew confirmed.

She sighed and shook her head, offering him a cute pout. “And no transporting between ships during warp? No coming to see you, my racha?”

“Junon, you know you can't transport between ships during warp travel!” He chuckled and held her close. “Nor can I order an entire fleet to pull from warp just for a booty call!” he teased playfully.

“And why not?” Junon grinned as she wrapped her arms around his neck, growling into his ears, “All hands, prepare for emergency stop, I need some Salarian pussy!” She giggled as he mewed at the crude words, but his paws eagerly groping her hips betrayed his want.

“I’m sure all the crews and officers would be just fine with that,” Andrew laughed, leaning in to nuzzle her jaw, kissing down along her throat as her paws tangled into his dark, silver-streaked hair.

“Computer! End program!” Junon called out as the training dojo faded out of existence, leaving them in an empty chamber, the bottle of water that had been on the table falling to the floor. She gave him a crooked grin before calling out, “Begin program, sleazy love motel!”

“Really?” Andrew laughed as the holosuite reconfigured around them, basking them in gaudy pink neon light, a bedroom before them of mostly pink and red, with a large heart-shaped bed in the center.

“I was flipping through some of the holo-sets in the database and found this one. I simply knew I had to give it a whirl with you, so I downloaded it into the ship's computer,” Junon cooed as she moved over. Her paws were already drawing buttons free on his shirt, and she watched that dark fur with faint patches of gray come into view, her claws raking down his chest as she kissed his throat.

“Fuck… racha…” Andrew hissed, but happily moved his paws over his small fox’s hips, dragging the baggy training shorts down, revealing a skimpy set of crimson panties beneath.

Junon pulled the panties down herself, huffing eagerly as she stepped out of them, then let out a dominant huff and shoved Andrew to the bed. She peeled her sports bra off, her plump, full breasts bouncing into view, the silver chain between her piercings glinting in the pink light before she climbed onto the bed with him.

“Racha… My cat… My Andrew…” Junon growled cutely, already snatching at his pants, licking her chops as she unbuckled them.

“Ngh…” He lolled his tongue as his fly parted, his contained length springing forth, reeking with the scent of earthling lust. It was a relief after it had been pushing against his boxers and pants for a while now.

“You were getting hard watching me train, weren’t you?” Junon cooed as she pumped his length. She wasted no more time pushing her maw down over the tip, suckling as she blinked up at him cutely with her mismatched eyes.

“You look great when you’re in the zone,” Andrew huffed, “and that sports bra didn’t stop those girls from bouncing about…” His paw was already on her head, raking claws through her hair while she bobbed up and down eagerly to taste his musky flesh.

Junon popped her mouth clear and giggled. “My… girls? Is that what you think of my tits, Andrew?” She smirked and pushed closer, grasping her breasts in her paws, giving him a sinful grin as she pushed forward to settle his jumping length between them.

“Hgn… the fur is still a little damp from my workout, but how’s this feel, my racha?” Junon sighed lovingly as she squeezed them together. Not only could she service her Admiral with her mouth, but her breasts as well, shifting and pushing them against that throbbing spire as she licked her chops.

“Fuck… your tits feel amazing…” He mewled and panted, rubbing at both her large ears with his paws as he watched her.

Junon just hummed proudly as she shifted herself back and forth, letting that length pump between her firm hot breasts, leaning down to take just the tip into her maw and suckle.

“Racha… racha…” Andrew groaned, his tongue lolled and small hearts in his eyes for the girl that he’d loved for over a decade, his paws rubbing those large golden-white ears encouragingly.

“Do you want to go all the way like this, my love? You can blow it in my mouth if you want to~” Her thoughts filled his head as he panted down at her, shuddering at the offer, before he rapidly shook his head.

Junon pulled back with a huff and a lick of her chops, releasing her breasts to pad atop him as her tails wagged eagerly. “Oooh Admiral wants to be balls deep in his little Captain’s pussy eh?” She cooed as she mounted him.

Andrew shuddered… then grasped her hips and rolled her over in the large bed, the little fox barking in surprise as she fell. Her breasts jiggled, the chain pulling against them as she hissed. “A-Andy!?”

He said nothing, just scooping under her knees, spreading her, and shoving his muzzle between her thighs to return the service. Junon shuddered and lolled her tongue, feeling his own start to lap and stroke hard at her pearl.

“Ah! Toth! Cresh… cha… fuck…” She panted little slurs out, both her paws instantly going to his ears, yipping and moaning to his skilled tongue that suckled and lapped hard at her.

“Andy… Ah… fuck fuck fuck!” Her claws dug into his hair and she let out a soft keening howl as he easily drove her to an orgasm, her small body shuddering as he happily lapped at the honey that came forth, a deep, contented purr filling his throat.

As he rose up, licking his chops, Junon lay panting beneath him, looking love-struck and offering no resistance as the larger cat scooped up under her knees, dragged her forward, and started to line his jumping length against her soaked entrance.

Her mismatched eyes rolled up, her tongue flopping more out of her jaws, looking like a feral little fox as he pushed forward. Her alien fox pussy happily welcomed him, tight and clenching the whole way in. “Gods… cresh cha…” Andrew snarled the Salarian slang this time as he bucked firmly to get every inch into the small fox beneath him.

Junon moaned as he pushed, and giggled at him using her own species’ slang. Her tongue remained lolled as she looked up at him, hearts in her blue-gold eyes, a faint rise visible in her belly from the length deep inside her.

“Right there,” she slurred. “Right… there…” After only a few more deep strokes, she let out a high-pitched little whine of a howl for him, crying out as her body gave in, drenching him in her love.

Andrew thought to her, “I love you so much, Junon… everything for you…” Through their psychic bond, his words felt even more potent than having them spoken. The pure emotion behind them was perfectly preserved in both their minds. He slid his paws to her own, pushing them into the sheets, their fingers locking as he rocked.

Junon saw the hearts in his own yellow eyes, the chain tugging at her hard peaks while she rocked under her lover, feeling his deep eager strokes just keep igniting her body. She squeezed his paws back and returned his thoughts. “Racha… racha… I love you… An existence without you would be the cruelest of fates, I would leave a universe that didn’t have you in it!”

Andrew shuddered, then dropped down, releasing her paws, and wrapped his arms around her neck, their muzzles crushing together in a desperate embrace. Their tongues rolled as their hips bucked in unison, her love dripping off him while he just kept pleasing the Salarian he loved.

“Gods! I don’t … huff… need the chains of Nephylle… to know you are my everything!” Junon barked out into his face after breaking the kiss, her heart pounding as she kept him hugged tight, feeling his deep strokes pounding inside her.

Andrew looked stunned at her words, then shuddered, his yellow heart-eyes drifting upwards before he yowled out in a throaty mewl of defeat as he cried out her name, “Junon!”

She tucked her tongue and grinned, then began growling and rolling her own mismatched heart-eyes up as his thick hot Earthling love gushed into her Salarian womb. Her tongue flopped out of her jaws as the last rope was milked in, leaving her belly slightly rounded from how much love he had for her, the little fox groaning and falling limp.

“Fuck… ing…” Andrew shivered and had no choice but to topple over onto his side, his tongue showing while he panted. He didn’t feel like he was going to faint this time, but he still felt dizzy and euphoric.

Junon pushed a paw to his muzzle, shifting to her side to face him, her blonde locks spilling over her face as she gave him a loving grin. Andrew just offered up a content purr as he stared into her eyes, his own paw weakly moving up to brush her cheek.

Finally, he whispered, “Don’t need the chains of Nephylle huh?”

“Mmm… nope…” Junon raked her claws through his jaw fur, tracing the scar on his muzzle. She gave him a lazy loving grin as she continued, “Besides… this makes it so I can still have sex whenever you’re not around to satisfy me!”

Andrew laughed at that then gave her a curious look. “Wait a sec… You mean once you guys do the Nephylle bond you can’t uh… sleep around?”

Junon smiled and gently shook her head. “We can’t… The chains of Nephylle are… painful to have implanted. They aren’t just accessories, my cat.”

“Installed? Now you’ve got me curious, how does it work?” Andrew gave a weak grunt and sat up, giving her his full attention as they sat in the holosuite under the simulated glow of cheap neon.

She growled lazily and slowly rose, giving him a playful shake of her breasts with the chain tethered between them. “Well, unlike some chains… those are not accessories per se… What you see on our ears is decorative, but it’s also attached to the base of the implant.”

“An implant? That sounds bad…” He mewed with a frown, his eyes trying to focus and not enjoy the view of his fox lover’s swaying breasts.

“Bad? Hmm… it can be… So essentially, it implants a link directly into our brains. I won’t give you all the details, but essentially, it enhances and tunes our psychic bond to only one other. It also wipes any bonds we have established in our lives,” Junon explained as simply as she could.

“So… if you got those, it’d wipe our bond out? We’d no longer be able to speak in our minds?” Andrew looked saddened at the concept of it.

“My racha… even if I could never speak in your mind again, our bond is much more than this…” She gave him a loving smile as she thought the words, pushing a paw to his chest where she knew his heart was. She had to remember to go to the opposite side of her own chest. Andrew gave her a loving smile before clasping her paws, his own tail wagging like a dog’s would.

“Anyway…” Junon smiled as she continued, “Once the bond is set, it tunes us as one. We quite literally meld our psychic bond to such a degree, we are constantly in communication, like it or not. No secrets, no privacy, if you think it, your mate knows.”

Andrew mewed. “That’s so intense!”

“There’s more,” Junon showed him a grin as she leaned back, showing herself off to him.

Andrew purred at the view and quickly moved a paw up to rub at one of her breasts, teasing at the tethering chain as he grinned. “Okay, what else?”

“If one psyche fails, the other does too. Simply put, if one of the partners dies, the other falls into a lifeless coma and won’t be far behind. Several Salarians have a special implant so that if that happens, it sends a command to stop their heart, so their loved ones don’t have to euthanize their comatose loved ones…” Junon explained with a sad smile on her face.

“Gods!” Andrew looked appalled, maybe he should have read up more on this since he was dating a Salarian, he knew about the bonding but not to this extent. “W-why?! Why would your species do this to themselves over a life partner?”

Junon looked confused for a moment, then remembered she was dealing with an Earthling. She nodded as she spoke, “Andrew, we can only reproduce children if our psyches are merged like that. Salarian children must have a linked unified psyche with their parents from conception up until about five years of age.” She gave him a hard look and continued, “Also, if the child, or either of the parents dies, well, you can guess what happens…”

“Dear gods…” Andrew whispered, looking stunned for a moment. He composed himself a moment later and shook his head. “So, this is why your species is so sparsely populated eh?”

“It is… We can only produce one pup at a time, we also can’t spare the psychic energy to produce another while rearing one. So at best, we can produce another every five to six years. Couple that with the very extreme psychic strain on the parents, and each puppy after the first can be a risk. It’s exceptionally rare for Salaria couples to go for three.”

“And I assume only other Salarians can do this?” Andrew asked.

“Would you psychically chain yourself to me, my racha? Some of the dark thoughts I have would likely traumatize you.” Junon gave a smug grin as his paw started to stroke and rub at her breast once more.

“I pretty much pined for you for well over a decade, so if it was what you wanted…” Andrew gave her a determined look.

“You… are… I do not have words for the love I feel for you, my racha… Rest assured if it were your desire and it was within our means, I would… Truly… However, you are correct in your prior assumption. Only two Salarians can undergo the bond. Other mixed alien couples have tried in the past with… expected results… Even other psychic races.”

“I’ve one more question,” Andrew mewed out, his paws moving to scoop Junon up and pull her into his lap to hold her.

“By all means, my cat… my racha…” Junona pushed a paw up to cup his jaw.

“You said earlier, that you couldn’t have other sex partners once you get the chains, I can guess, but why?” Andrew asked.

“Hm hm… tell me what you think would happen, oh wise Admiral?” Junon cooed as she scratched his jaw with her claws.

“I’m guessing…” He mused while purring at the scratching, but tried to keep focused as he answered, “I’m guessing, if you did, it would establish a smaller bond like we have, but since the union is shared, it’d somehow damage or sever it?”

“Yes, very good!” Junon barked out with approval as she elaborated, “It strains the bond, that last orgasm you have when you mate with one that isn’t your partner, will be the last moments you’ll remember. You and your lifemate will both pay the price, and though it’s conjecture, the process of a damaged bond appears to be… excruciating before death sets in…”

Andrew shuddered and hugged her tightly. “Damn… Junon, please don’t ever get those, okay?”

She laughed and leaned in to nuzzle his jaw. “My racha… my life is yours, rest assured, no other could pull me from you, and as we do not need the chains, nor am I willing to wear them, you may rest easy.”

He nodded and just held her tighter, huffing into the fur at her throat, taking in the vixens sent as he knew this would be the last time she’d be in his arms for a few cycles.

-*United Space Federation Data Archives*-

-*Historical Conflicts Dosier #47*-

The Rashvian Conflict SD: 234 - 237:

The USF made first contact with the Unified Rashvian Khanate (URK) on July 23rd of SD: 230.

A tense first exchange occurred when a USF officer inadvertently insulted the Commanding officer of the URK vessel. Though outright conflict didn’t occur, the stage was set for a hostile clash that would later occur on the fringe of Rashvian territory.

On August 30th of SD: 233, the Captain of a lone USF scout vessel decried the enslavement of the populace of an underdeveloped world by Rashvian forces, citing the Primitive Planet Safety Accords(PPSA). However, as Rashvia was not considered a member of the USF at the time, there was no obligation for the occupying forces to adhere to this measure. The USF ship fired upon the URK cruiser after failed negotiations and was destroyed in the subsequent exchange of retaliatory fire.

On January 3rd of SD: 234, a formal declaration of war was issued by the Rashvian Khanate after repeated escalations over their enslavement of other races, citing that strict adherence to the PPSA would be tantamount to expecting their species to slowly die out.

The following years saw many clashes but few decisive victories on either side. Only two cruisers and one carrier were lost within the USF’s ranks. The URK used hit-and-run tactics, attacking opportunistically with smaller, faster ships, but struggled to land decisive blows. Around four of their own ships were recorded lost in combat.

After many stalemate encounters, a shift came on February 14th of SD:236. An ambush by the URK destroyer Dreshkul resulted in its destruction by the USF cruiser Faffnir. (*1*) The resulting victory galvanized the nearby USF forces. A direct assault, spearheaded by USF Captain Junon Topaz, pushed deep into Rashvian territory, striking key military complexes with the small squadron of five ships.

(*1*Note- See “Dreshkul Controversy” or “Butcher of Ralstan III ” for further reading on this historical event.)

After losing four more destroyers and the URK flagship Yankreh to the assault, a tentative ceasefire was established, ending the counter-offensive. After several key victories and the confirmed destruction of four ships, including the Yankreh, Captain Junon Topaz refused to accept the ceasefire before being summarily relieved of duty as Captain of the USF Faffnir.

On January 15th ST: 237, tense negotiations concluded after 9 months, resulting in an end to the conflict and the Rashvian Khanate being given membership within the USF. They were now to follow the PPSA and all other USF laws, and assistance would be provided for the propagation and continuation of their unique species.(*2*)

(*2*Note- The Khanate was afforded arbitration to declare colonial conquest on underdeveloped civilizations if their population reached critically low levels. However, following their integration into the USF, a significant enough portion of the Rashvian population has established consensual relationships with alien partners, creating no urgent necessity for such arbitration.)

-*End Archive*-

“Captain on the bridge!” At Leona’s call, the bridge crew all stood to offer Junon a salute as she stepped out of the lift.

Her breasts swayed in her top a little as she threw her paw up to return the salute while responding, “At ease.” She moved over to the Captain's chair and took a seat, while Leona took her command seat next to her.

“Status on the rest of the fleet?” Junon called out.

“The flagship is ready to go, we’re simply awaiting confirmation from one other escort and we can begin warp protocols,” Leona said in a completely neutral tone.

“Computer, let me see a final diagnostic report!” Junon barked out. A display immediately lit up before her. Everything was running optimally except one thing: the propulsion was showing a 99.2% efficiency.

Junon growled and bumped the small device on her right ear that simply looked like an opal stud but was in fact her communicator and universal translator. A small chirp sounded out before she spoke, “Engineering, why are my propulsions not at one hundred?”

“I’ve been fussing with this thing for a cycle and a half, Captain!” A frustrated female voice explained. “I just can’t seem to get that last point-eight! It’s this damn Salarian tech! I’m almost there, I’m sure!”

“Toth…” Junon sighed and stood from her chair. “First Officer, you have the bridge, I’m going to Engineering,” She spun on her heel and headed for the lift.

“Engineering, Captain?” Leona asked skeptically.

“Just man the bridge,” Junon growled as the lift chute doors closed.

Once she arrived in Engineering she was greeted by the sight of a Denlazi. Actually, she was greeted by the backend of the doe’s perky round butt, a fluffed-up tail the color of turquoise that softened to a white-blue near the base.

She was halfway in an unorganized chest full of what looked like a random assortment of tools, muttering to herself as she dug about, “Oh sure, Tally, the Captain won't care about that point eight, it won't matter, Tally. It's close enough…”

Junon knew the door had chimed but just put her paws on her hips, letting the engineer dig about a few more moments before loudly clearing her throat.

“Oy! What?!” The blue-furred deer jerked her head around with an angry snarl, expecting one of her lower officers, only to see the small fox standing there with her paws on her hips.

“Ah shit!” she gasped out in panic as she rose quickly to salute, but then smacked her horns on the rim of the open tool chest, offering a trilled yelp as it sent her off balance to tumble back right onto her backside with a winded ‘ooph!’ and wince. She blinked up at Junon, the cool blue of her antlers slowly turning to maroon as her wide purple eyes started to water.

“Oh my gods! I- I am so sorry, Captain!” She stammered, fumbling to climb from the floor, offering an apologetic bow that was standard of her species’ culture.

Junon hissed and jerked her head back as the antlers nearly smacked her own forehead, given even more deadly potential with the weight of a few small tools taped or stuck on the tips for easy access. The Denlazi didn’t seem to even notice she’d almost gored her superior.

“Oh! Oh shit!” She gasped out and stiffened up, giving a more proper sharp salute with her grimy paw, holding the position with a nervous whimper. She stood about as tall as Leona did, with none of the intimidating presence, but still dwarfing Junon, a shortstack even by Salarian standards.

Junon reached up and jerked the deer’s collar out, examining her lone Engineering star. She blinked at the doe, saying nothing, then finally rolled her eyes, released her collar, and muttered, “At ease, Chief Engineer…” The frightened girl eased her paw down but stayed mostly at attention.

Junon looked her over. Her standard-issue uniform was covered in engine grease and grime. Even her cool, bluish cheek fur was streaked with an oily black smudge. “You’re a mess… Did I walk into the drone mechanical bay instead? Name!” The Salarian said with clear annoyance in her tone.

The doe whined out, “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, Captain! I’ve been trying to dig around in that hyper-light drive enhancer that’s why I’m-”

“Name!” Junon barked with a snarl, her mismatched eyes looking fierce.

“Ah! Chief Engineer, Talleria Frostrose!” She yelped out with another salute.

“I was told I had the best of the best for this ship, tell me again why you can’t get my propulsion to one-hundred, Chief Engineer,” Junon growled as she walked over to the open bay, looking over the side of the propulsion module, one of four that assisted the faster-than-light drive.

“It’s these damn Salarian coolant flows!” Talleria grumbled, letting her exasperation show before the fox shot her another hard glare. “Oh gosh-”

“Chief Engineer, Talleria Frostrose! I am one of those ‘damn’ Salarians, I’ll have you know!” Junon barked, heat in her voice, snarling and sounding like her own drill sergeant did back at basic training. “And you should be grateful to have your grease-covered hoof-paws on anything my species offers you, is that understood?!”

“Yes sir! I mean, ma’am! I mean, Captain! I’m sorry!” Talleria blurted out, looking ready to cry.

“You’ve given me quite the staff to work with, Admiral…” She grumbled and took a composed breath before stepping over to the deer, pushing a paw up to wipe a few tears off her greasy cheek fur. “Stop crying, I’m not going to court-martial you or something, okay?” She spoke in a softer, gentler tone to the young Denlazi, who slowly nodded. She didn’t know much about this race, but she knew their horns would indicate their emotions. Junon glanced up. Given hers were almost red, Talleria was nearly in full fear/panic mode.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… I just… I’ve never handled authority or or… Oh geeze, uhm…” She sucked in a breath as the smaller fox patted her cheek gently.

“Take a deep breath, I’m not mad anymore, compose yourself, and then explain what’s happening…” Junon continued in that kinder, softer tone, and as the doe’s antlers started to shift back to maroon, she turned away to look over the injection system.

Talleria took a few deep breaths, then continued, “So, the system’s cooling flush mechanic is foreign to me, and yes Captain, I am one of the prominent Engineers in the USF… But Salarian technology is very mysterious to all of us right now, and I’ve only had about three cycles to go over nearly two thousand pages of schematics. That’s to say nothing of having to also look over any Rashvian modifications we’re using.”

“I can see how that’d be daunting, Chief Engineer… The good news is, though I’m no engineer like you, I’m slightly familiar with the concepts of how the coolant systems of my species work, at least enough to possibly assist you. My grandfather used to be a mechanic who serviced racing drones. Show me the troublemaker.” Junon flourished a paw towards the large compartment before her.

“Right, uhm… Okay, over here, Captain…” It was a tight fit, the space not being meant for two, and she had to squeeze into the little nook with the fox. Junon had to dodge some of her horn pokes again, but eventually, they were hunkered down looking over the piping and tubes that controlled the flow of coolant.

“Ah, this brings back memories… I miss him all the time,” Junon mused, taking a moment to self-reflect as she brushed a paw against the tubing. Then, she brought her other up to a small lever switch tucked behind the base of one of the flow-points. “Here is your culprit, Talleria.”

“Why… Why in the hell is it over there?!” She pouted as the fox snorted back at her. The doe’s body pushed up behind her, her annoyed breath hot on one of her large ears.

“That’s just how it is, however, I don’t have three paws. I’ll hold the tubing and casing to the side, you get in there and push that valve switch.” Junon explained simply, trying to ignore the doe’s modest breasts pushing into her back. Her tails were unable to even wag, which just made her angry, but she was trying to keep her cool over this sensitive alien.

“Yes Captain, sorry Captain…” Talleria whispered as she pushed closer, Junon giving a grunt as the doe snarled and tried to depress the valve. “Geeze, it’s stuck good…”

“Try jiggling it, they get stuck sometimes!” Junon barked in annoyance, the doe giving the jerking tugs with her paw but so far only managing to jiggle the fox’s plump breast. Her purple eyes darted down to see them as she gulped gently.

“Chief Engineer, I know you’re not checking my tits out while we’re stuffed in this damn box, pull, the damn, switch!” Junon snarled with angry eyes cutting up at the larger girl who shook her head rapidly, her own crotch shoving into her superior's backside as she bared down with most of her force. Finally, there was a loud thunk as the last tube of the twenty or so on this side of the engine flushed with coolant into the system.

“Finally!” Junon snarled and awkwardly climbed out of the tight area, fluffing and shaking her tails out with a sigh.

“Sorry again Captain, I uh… also didn’t mean to stare!” Talleria stepped back to give her horns room before making another apologetic bow.

“Forget about it, but you need to make sure to go over those manuals. I’m no specialist and just happened to know this one particular problem, we got lucky… Just remember, anything less than one hundred, might as well be zero in the void. I won’t put the lives of the other one-hundred and eighteen on this vessel in jeopardy over ‘good enough’, and neither will you, is that clear?”

“Yes, Captain, sorry captain!” She trilled out with another salute.

“If you ever submit a complete ready-for-launch summary with anything under one hundred again, I will court-martial you, are we clear?” Junon snarled.

“Yes, Captain!” She whined out, her horns starting to shift back towards red.

Junon sighed and pinched the bridge of her snout. “Just tell me you’re having problems, and that’s fine, you don’t have to be perfect, we’ll figure it out as a crew. I just don’t want you thinking that’s good enough, understood?”

“Yes sir! Er… Ma’am!” She eased her salute with a frown.

“Wonderful, we’ll be going to warp soon,” Junon said as she turned away.

“Ah! Captain, wait!” Talleria called out.

“What is it, Chief Engineer?” She sighed, a curious look on her face as the deer quickly grabbed a clean cloth, pumped some sanitizing agent on it, and moved over.

“Uhm… You’ve got grease on your muzzle and cheek…” Talleria said awkwardly.

“I appreciate you telling me so I didn’t return to the bridge like that.” Junon lifted her muzzle and tilted her head as she closed her eyes. “Go on then, it’s not as if I can see it.”

The Danlazi made a small nervous gulp but nodded as she moved down and quickly scrubbed the cloth against the small fox's muzzle fur in a few spots, then even one spot on her arm. Junon bit back a shocked yip as she also got a spot on one of her tails, not an area a Salarian was ever okay with someone touching without permission, but she’d yelled at the deer enough for one cycle.

Talleria stepped back with a small smile. “There you go, Captain, sorry again…”

“Thank you for assisting. In the future, please warn me if you touch my tails.” Junon turned and fanned her three tails out, waving a paw dismissively. “As you were, Chief Engineer,” she called out as she left the bay.

The lift doors swung open as she marched back onto the bridge to take her seat. Leona nodded her head in greeting. “Captain.”

“First Officer.” Junon nodded, both of them hanging on a glance before the fox shifted to look at the fresh diagnostics report, seeing one hundred on everything as it should be.

Leona’s nose twitched as she looked her superior over, seeing just a few faint smudges in her uniform and even a spot of fur that showed grease that Talleria had missed. She cleared her throat as Junon shot a glance over to her. “Permission to speak freely, Captain?” Leona asked.

“I swear if you start something on my bridge, Rashvian…” Junon snarled in a whisper but muttered aloud, “Granted.”

Leona asked point blank, “Did you help Engineering get the propulsion to the maximum?”

“Why?” Junon asked with a quirked brow.

“Because I can smell it all over you, as if you were actually getting your paws dirty and helping,” Leona said as she lifted her muzzle.

“Yes, I was. Is that a problem, First Officer?” Junon snarled.

“No ma’am, I’m just… Impressed,” Leona said candidly.

Junon gave her a cool snort but said nothing before turning her attention back to the reports, then raised her voice to address the bridge. “Send word to the flagship that we are ready to depart. Send a ship-wide announcement to prepare for warp!”

A few moments later a young black-furred earthling fox at the comms console spoke out, “Ma’am! The Astral is ready to depart on our lead!”

“Helmsman, is our course set for Aldebaran?” She asked even though she knew it would be.

“Ma’am! Course-plotting is ready, we can go on your order!” A young calico feline mewed out as she looked back at her for confirmation.

Junon felt a grin crack across her muzzle as she raised a paw. “Engage.”

---

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