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Seward approached the hologram with apprehension. This was no ordinary simulation. She was a representation of the station's sentient computer, likely the most advanced in existence. They knew very little of how she worked. As such, there was an enigmatic aura about her. She was confident, borderline arrogant, and radiated with hidden power. How could he not be intimidated?

"Do you have the device?" she asked impatiently.

The snow rabbit nodded, trying to control himself. You're nervous because you want to make a good impression, not because you fear her._He had to admit, she was incredibly compelling. As an engineer, there was so much he wanted to know! Could she adapt _beyond her programming, or was she bound by it? Also, why did she identify as female? Was that given to her or did she choose it? Oh, he'd love to get a deeper look at her base coding. That almost sounds like an innuendo, Seward.Let's not get carried away. You have a mate.

The A.I., meanwhile, had started a sexual dalliance with Ensign Adak in order to better understand the 'organics' that had unwittingly freed her from hibernation. Seward had no idea if the A.I. actually had feelings for the scientist. Can computers feel? Are 0's and 1's as legitimate as bio-chemical responses in the brain?_Regardless, it was clear the ensign was growing attached to her. _Even after she tried to leave him permanently disembodied. Even after she threatened to kill us all.

Holographic technology was useful for other things (research, long-distance conferencing, exercise, meditation), but most furs used it for sex. Plain and simple. Seward, admittedly, had 'laid' with holograms before. Who hadn't? He understood the appeal of crafting the 'perfect mate.' Especially if one was single and living in deep space, isolated from potential partners. _Or maybe if they're just introverted, like me._But holograms couldn't intuit their user's desires. Not truly. They reacted and responded more than anticipated. They were automatons, limited by set parameters, unable to freely improvise the way a real mind could.

This A.I., though ...

I bet she feels amazing.

The snow rabbit felt an immediate wave of guilt. You're better than that, Seward. Not only because he, albeit influenced by hormones, was reducing this marvelous feat of engineering to a mere sexual object, but because ... well, again, he had a mate. Seldovia. Remember? Of course he remembered. I'm not an idiot._He would never cheat on her, not even emotionally. _Even though she cheated on you?

The memory still hurt. Only when you insist on bringing it back up. It's in the past. Leave it there._He'd absolved her, of course. Seldovia had strayed under extenuating circumstances. She'd been under the influence of another skunk's scent. The ex-princess had been targeted by a roving worshiper of the dethroned skunk crown. Pheromones and flattery? S_ounds like an excuse more than an explanation.

She'd been genuinely sorry after the affair, though. He'd sensed her anguish. And how could he stay mad at her? She'd done so much for him, pulling him out of a deep depression when he was still healing from wounds acquired in the wasp war. She restored my confidence. Without her, he wouldn't have had the strength to tackle Redwing Station's recent refurbishment.

Still, he couldn't deny being a little jealous of Adak. What if I could be in his position? An engineer actually having the chance to be intimate with an advanced computer? What must it be like? To be that close to the technology you work with? How would it feel? Surely, I would appreciate the experience more than him. I bet he knows nothing about computers.

He and Adak had something in common, though. They had both been betrayed by their partners. And they'd both forgiven them. Such is the power of romance, I suppose. Or such is the pull of our cocks ...

"Is there a problem?' the holographic female asked. She pitied organics for being unable to truly multitask. They so often got lost in their thoughts.

"What? No." Seward reached into his pocket, fumbling for a small, metallic device. It was a portable emitter. If it worked, it would allow the A.I. to physically project herself anywhere on the station via her avatar. He pulled it out and cleared his throat. "Where, uh ... where do you want it, exactly?"

"Does it matter?"

"That depends."

"On what?" she asked, with a mix of imperiousness and impatience. She flicked her winter-white bobtail, placing her paws on her hips. Curvy, feminine hips.

The station's chief engineer took a deep breath, exchanging a look with Ensign Adak before looking back to her. The three of them were in one of the many holo-suites located on the Promenade, the station's social gathering space. There was a slight hum of energy from the power coursing through the holo-grid.

"Do you want others to see it, to know you're not organic?" Seward posed, of the emitter. "Or would you rather hide it beneath your, uh ... um ... " He faltered. There just wasn't much to hide it behind. Can I really be blamed for being so distracted? For thinking these salacious, straying things? She's practically inviting them! His eyes drifted to her breasts. Supple didn't do them justice. Minuet, as the artificial intelligence had taken to calling herself, was unabashedly unclothed. Her body was a perfectly idealized representation of the female figure. A snow rabbit female.I haven't been with my own species in so long ...

"I have nothing to hide," she told him.

"Uh-huh," he managed, weakly.

Adak intervened on behalf of his superior. "Perhaps you should don some attire, Min?"

"Min?" Seward echoed. They've already progressed to nicknames?

"Modesty. Right." Minuet sighed, brow scrunching in annoyance. The concept was still foreign to her. Many organic behaviors were. It had been ages since she'd had to deal with living beings on a daily basis, and even then they hadn't been mammals. Mostly reptiles, then avians. All of them had insufferable quirks that took a good deal of getting used to. The station's crew, on orders from Commander Graham, seemed to be allowing her a 'learning curve.' After she'd threatened their lives, she hadn't expected such leeway. Adak had informed her this was known as 'compassion'.

She spread her arms. A shimmering second later, she was wearing a High Command duty uniform bearing the insignia of ensign. Graham had acquiesced to giving her a field commission of that rank. She would've preferred 'fleet admiral,' but apparently that wasn't an option. It had taken some time to convince her that intellectual prowess did not, in and of itself, equate to social status. "Better?"

Seward nodded quietly, quelling more feelings of guilt for finding her so attractive. You have nothing to feel sorry for! You're a male rabbit! These feelings are natural. Besides, you're looking, not touching. That's a lot more than Seldovia did. He moved behind Minuet and lifted her uniform shirt, affixing the emitter against her spine on the small of her back. Her body felt incredibly real to the touch. Bone, muscle. Flesh. Fur. And what fur! He had to fight himself from running his fingers through it. Again, he marveled at Minuet's authenticity. She was amazing technological achievement.

"You're mated to that skunk, aren't you?" she asked, looking over her shoulder.

"Mm? Oh. Yes," Seward said, fiddling with the emitter before stepping back. He nodded awkwardly, twiddling his ears.

"Hmm," went Minuet.

Seward sniffed his nose and waited for more, but ... that was it, apparently? So, shaking his head, he continued, "You should be good to go. You can move anywhere on the station as long as you're wearing this device. Without it, you can only project yourself onto the grid in the, uh ... well, the holo-suite here. If it's damaged or deactivates, your consciousness will be shunted back in to the main computer core."

"I'm in the core right now," she said defensively. "I'm everywhere." They were such limited creatures! They truly didn't understand the scope of her reach. "What about off the station?"

"Your program eats up a lot of memory." Seward held up his paws. "No offense. The emitter, to handle it all, is tied into the station's main reactor," he explained. "For you to leave the station in a physical form, I'd need to develop something with its own independently internal power source and with enough space to house all your data, and ... " He trailed off, shrugging apologetically. "That will take quite a long time. Years, maybe." He didn't exactly have a team devoted specifically to computer construction. "I'm sorry."

"I see." Her nose sniffed in disappointment.

"But you can still leave the station intangibly, hopping from computer to computer. As you've always done."

"Of course." After existing as nothing but consciousness for so long, that should have been fine with her. But as strange as it was, the more she took physical form, the more she valued it. Besides, it made it easier to interact with the organics she was now lived and worked with. They were psychologically biased toward other physical lifeforms. When she had a 'face,' they took her more seriously than as a disembodied voice. And she very much wanted to be taken seriously.

Adak clicked his tongue against the roof of his maw.

Minuet looked his way.

He raised a brow.

Taking a sharp breath, the female A.I. turned to Seward and bowed her head. "Thank you for your efforts, lieutenant."

"Seward will suffice. And you're welcome. If you have any issues, contact me or someone on my repair team." He bowed to her and then nodded to Adak before leaving the room with a sigh of apparent relief.

When the swishing door had firmly shut behind him, Minuet said, "He is very uneasy around me."

"Many of the crew still are. You did endanger our lives."

Minuet waved a paw dismissively.

"Lieutenant Seward has been here longer than me, but I hear he suffered from self-esteem issues in the past."

"I detected a slight fluctuating in his voice when I asked about his mate."

"They had a rocky time a while back."

"How so?"

"I wasn't given details." Adak paused, tilting his head. "Why are you so curious?"

"His eyes were fully dilated when he looked at me," she explained. "That denotes sexual arousal. I have seen your eyes do the same thing."

"Can you blame him?" Adak asked. "You're a desirable lifeform."

"I know," Minuet said simply.

"I would hope, even though we're still fairly newly acquainted, my 'dilation' would take precedence."

"You do have priority placement in my programming. I'm currently engaging in fifteen tasks simultaneously, and you are being allocated the third-most attention of them."

"Uh ... thanks?" His nose twitched.

"You're welcome."

"You know, us 'organics' ... we prefer, when speaking with someone, if their attention is primarily on us," Adak informed her.

"I am not organic."

"No," he admitted quietly, feeling heat rising into his ears. "But you make me forget, sometimes."

"Do I?" She smiled. "I wonder if I should be offended by this or not."

"Believe me, it's a compliment."

"Are we flirting?"

"Don't act so oblivious. You're the one who seduced me, not the other way around."

"Yes, but it's fun to play coy. It's a change of pace. And I've observed flirting happens for different reasons. I think, at the moment, you are flirting defensively."

"What?"

"You're jealous that Seward is interested in me. Why?" She tilted her head. "I thought rabbits were particularly amenable to 'open-breeding'."

Adak's eyes darted. "I will admit, we are, but ... that doesn't mean we don't value commitment. We can fall in love as well as lust. Commander Graham and Ambassador Annika, for instance."

"Yes, they are nauseatingly cute," Minuet said with a nod.

"I'm not keen on losing your affections. I doubt I would be able to replace them anytime soon." He paused. "In the past, I've been described as boring, vanilla, having no personality." She could do much better than him. The only reason they were involved was because he'd gotten to her first. Or, rather, she'd gotten to him. "I had no friends on this station until you arrived. Because of you, they pay attention to me. Without you, I'm nothing." He rubbed at his neck, sheepishly. "And I do like you. And liking can lead to loving, given time." It wasn't quite there yet. He was attached, but his heart didn't melt every time he saw her. But who knows where things will go? "I'm sorry if it seems like I'm trying to force things ... "

"Not at all. I have no wish to alienate you, Adak." He had been very tolerant of her since their first encounter. He wasn't suspicious of her, at least not anymore, and his desire didn't come from a place of curiosity as did Seward's. It came from a place of genuine loneliness. Minuet knew what it was like to be alone. She'd been in a black, inactive void for longer than the High Command had been in existence. If she'd been organic, it would've driven her mad. "You have taught me the value of true connection. I see no reason to alter our arrangement."

"Nor do I."

"Now," she declared, "if I recall, flirting is normally an excuse to get closer." Her uniform shimmered into nothingness, leaving her naked again. And just as gorgeous as ever. She fluffed her bobtail. "Shall we keep doing it?"

"We could." Adak swallowed. "But, undoubtedly, one thing will lead to another. And I am on duty," he reminded.

"I'm the station's computer." She shrugged. "If anyone asks about your location or attempts to communicate with you, I will misdirect them." With a thought, she sealed the holo-suite doors and created a simulation of an incredibly ornate, candlelit bedroom. The HC cultural database indicated this might be considered 'romantic.' "Shall we skip to the end result?"

He was already undressing. After all, it's not like the stars were going anywhere.

"I saw you received a subspace communique," Annika said, entering Graham's office. The windowed doors closing behind her, the ambassador stepped forward and primly sat in a chair facing her mate's desk. The room was situated atop a short flight of stairs overlooking Ops. This allowed the station's commanding officer to keep an eye on his crew at all times. Annika suspected, because of this, the avian builders of Redwing must've been quite paranoid. Evidence pointed to them being violent birds-of-prey.

"From High Command headquarters. Just a mission briefing." The male snow rabbit briefly looked up from his work. His drank her in. Annika was, for all intents and purposes, traditionally feminine. Her voice sweet and melodic, her demeanor incredibly nurturing. She was so soft and silky to the touch, too. But she had a clear inner strength. You could see it in her eyes.

Graham reached for a computer pad and tapped at the screen. They were Talkeetna's departmental reports from yesterday. He had to sign off on them for the record. "Apparently, they've been reshuffling ship assignments," he continued.

"Oh?" Annika folded her paws in her lap.

"Arctic's posting in the UT is now semi-permanent. The brass want us to find out everything we can about the dragons and the technology they left behind, which means a full excavation of the ruins on the planet in this system. Since we're getting busier with day-to-day visitors and self-maintenance and can't do it ourselves, Arctic's going to head that. In conjunction with our Syndicate allies."

"Of course." That was part of the treaty between them. The High Command could maintain a presence in unaligned space as long as they shared every bit of information they gleaned with the rogue bats. Telepaths valued information above all else. To them, it was power.

"In her place, Luminous will remain on UT border patrol for a while. And they've assigned the Yellowknife, under Captain Cordova, to deep-space exploration in the UT."

"Anywhere near us?"

"Headed in the opposite direction, actually. But, still. The fact they're expanding our presence in this region means our original mission was a success."

"I thought the Syndicate preferred we not map the UT in too much detail? They won't want the locations of their roosts broadcast to the quadrant."

"The UT is a big place," Graham reasoned. "We can still map it without getting in the bats' faces. Besides, they know Yellowknife is out here. We told them, and they didn't object."

"That's good. It means our relationship has progressed beyond a mere treaty." She paused before adding, "I know we've made peace with the Syndicate, and it heartens me to no end, but there are other forces in these parts that won't be pleased to see us expanding. We need to remember we're still strangers here." Sitting up straighter, the ambassador said, "Captain Peregrine has indicated Reverie is getting hassled more frequently on its trade routes. If we're not careful, we could end up galvanizing the unaffiliated locals. They could band together and form a blockade."

Graham leaned back in his cushioned chair, crossing his arms. "It's possible."

"I would label it 'quite likely'. With your permission, I'd like to have Sheila draw up plans in case we are attacked and boarded."

The male furrowed his brow. "Isn't that jumping the gun?"

"I'm a diplomat. I prepare for all possible outcomes. This allows me to foresee all possible solutions."

"Or maybe we've been under duress so many times since we got here you don't trust a little peace and quiet," he teased.

Annika's ice-blue eyes drifted downward, remembering an incident from her past. Peace and quiet. There'd been a time when she'd had neither. She'd spent most of her life solving problems. Political problems, specifically. There was never an absence of them. Even before the wasps struck at the various furred governments, she'd been involved in espionage during the cold war with the Arctic foxes.

She'd been taken prisoner once. They'd done things to her. Violated her. She'd never told Graham. She was far too ashamed. She'd been released in exchange for a fox prisoner the High Command had been holding. Upon gaining her freedom, she'd switched from undercover ops to the diplomatic corp. Blinking, she looked back up and changed the subject. "Was there anything else?"

"From me or the High Command?" Graham asked with confusion. He sensed a sudden disconnect between him and his mate. They were so often on the same page, so often simpatico, connected in every single way, that even the slightest ripple stood out. Annika wasn't technically part of the chain of command, but she was, along with Graham, one of the highest-ranking officers aboard the station. Together, they almost felt they were the unofficial 'mom and dad' of the crew. If they ever did fight, the others couldn't see it. "Annika?"

"Was there anything else?" she repeated.

Graham sighed, pink nose sniffing. There was. He spread his paws. "They want to promote me."

"To captain?" she went, genuine surprise in her tone.

"Yes."

"You don't sound pleased ... "

"The promotion would come with a transfer."

"Oh." Again, Annika was taken aback. She struggled for a response. "Why?"

"They feel the hardest task is out of the way and Redwing could, in its current state, be run by anyone. I guess that's a backhanded compliment? I'm not sure." The snow rabbit's ears twiddled. He ran a paw through his head fur and shifted in his chair. "And as Captain Aria is one of the up-and-coming captains in the fleet, they feel her extended presence here doesn't require the presence of an_additional_ captain at this time." He went quiet for a moment. "So, I can either reject the promotion and remain a commander, which-"

"Would be bad for your career."

"Right," he acknowledged. You didn't turn down a captaincy. That was the dream of every officer in the command track, to achieve that rank! To rebuff it was to invite a reputation for being 'scared of the chair.' And in the post-wars era, the High Command needed all the qualified captains it could get for the new wave of ships that would soon constitute the revamped space fleet. "If I do reject the offer, it will likely be viewed as spurning an opportunity. It may be a while before they see fit to extend the offer again."

Annika said nothing.

"I told them I'd think about it, but ... " He stood up, blowing out a breath. He paced back and forth for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Then, planting his white-furred paws on his desk, he leaned forward. Head lowered, he spoke in soft tones. "I'm in no hurry to leave Redwing. I accepted this assignment for a reason. I enjoy the challenge." An oasis of civilization had been established, but it still had to be maintained and protected.

However, like most of the station's original contingent, Graham had also come out here to reinvent himself, to get away from past failures. "I don't want to be closer to the bureaucracy. I got caught up in it once ... " As a younger officer, following orders rather than questioning them. Lives had been lost. Indirectly, he'd blamed himself. It wasn't something he liked to think about. "I prefer the freedom of the frontier."

"It does suit you."

"I met you out here, too." He reached a paw across his desk." "This feels like our 'place'."

She reached out and squeezed his paw. Then released it. "But maybe you should think long-term. Where do you want to be in ten years? If you accept a captaincy and your record is good, I have no doubt you'd become an admiral someday." While captains were charged with hands-on assignments on star-ships, admirals were generally assigned to overseeing things from afar via cushy planets and outposts. "We could wind up on one of our own planets, with our own species. Have an actual house."

"Where is this coming from?" he asked, standing up and slowly moving around the table.

"I don't know what you mean."

"What about you?" he stressed.

"This isn't about me. We're talking about your career."

"Our mate-ship is more important than my career. Besides, you have a career, too. Living light years apart isn't an option. I couldn't bear it."

"I would go where you go," she said quietly. "Obviously."

"But you're a diplomat. There's far more for you to do out here, where no recognized government exists, than back home."

"Ambassadors_are_ needed back in High Command space. There are Federation refugees to deal with, the Arctic foxes still being folded into our government, the Arctic hares and their semi-independence, not to mention-"

"Back home, we'd be cogs in a machine, and you know it. Out here-"

"But we'd be safer back in High Command space."

"Annika-"

"I'm pregnant," she blurted.

Graham blinked.

Annika felt a surge of vulnerability. Snow rabbits, by nature, weren't prone to emotional outbursts. They were even-keel creatures. She, herself, had a serene demeanor. This made her especially suited for peacemaking. But right now, she felt undeniably overwhelmed.

Graham sunk to his knees, on the floor beside her chair. He rested his chin on her arm. He seemed appropriately stunned. "How long?" he eventually asked.

"A month. I should've come into heat this week. I've been a bit late before because of stress, so I figured ... " She faltered, taking a few deep breaths. "With all we've been through, recently. But Doctor Barrow sensed my worry and coaxed me into getting a check-up." The telepathic bat could be quite persuasive. Not to mention invasive. "The results of his scans were ... " She trailed off, having already announced that. She looked into his eyes. "I must've forgotten one of my weekly birth control injections." Her nose twitched. "I don't remember which week, but-"

"It doesn't matter. It's not your fault." He took her paws in his, spinning her chair around so that they faced each other. He looked up at her, smiling lightly. "I'm so happy for you." He brought her paw to his muzzle and kissed the back of it. "For us."

Annika smiled with relief.

"I love you," he declared, looking up adoringly.

"I love you, too." She put her paws on his head, sliding them down to his cheeks. She cupped his face, strumming his whiskers with her thumb. "I suppose were going to go down this path eventually. I just hoped it would've been planned."

"Of all the curves we've been dealt, this is perhaps the most pleasant one," he assured, raising to his foot-paws. He sat on the edge of his desk, gazing out into Ops. He had an adopted family, but now he'd have a real one. "We'll be fine."

Breasts swelling with relief, Annika wondered, "So, what will you do about your promotion?"

"The captaincy? I think it's best to remain a commander." His eyes glinted, playfully. "After all, I've just been promoted to father." And that deserves a celebration.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Seldovia posed curiously, spinning left to right in her swivel chair. Left. Right. Left. "Also, why was the commander on his knees?" Right. Left. The skunk's eyes widened, her luxurious stripe-tail undulating. She stopped swiveling. "Do you think they're fighting? I've never seen them fight before." The skunk scrunched her face in a mixture of admiration and jealousy.

Talkeetna turned and shook her head. "They're not fighting."

"Well, they've probably made up." The skunk stretched. "He's sitting on his desk, now. But those eyes. They really look like they wanna-"

"Ensign," Talkeetna interrupted with clear exasperation, making a face at the comm officer. Seldovia was normally a chatterbox. She liked gossip. But she seemed to be on a sugar high this morning. What did she have for breakfast?

"You don't know what I was gonna say."

"Pretty sure I do."

"Well, they're rabbits," the skunk defended.

"That's a bit judgmental."

Seldovia scoffed. "They like to fuck. Common knowledge."

"I think we all like that," Talkeetna defended. I used to believe the Redwing crew was normal compared to Reverie's. More and more, I find they're just as crazy. "Let's try not to judge species solely by their defining traits, hmm?"

"Is that an order?" Seldovia asked, in her best 'I'm so pretty' voice.

"Do I need to make it one?" the red-furred rodent replied, not falling for it.

The skunk crossed her arms. Talkeetna was definitely more business-like than Petra, their old first officer, had been. I suppose she was the 'voice of reason' for Captain Peregrine all those years on Reverie. "Sheila walked in on them humping on his desk before." The skunk looked over and upward, at the tactical station. "Right, Sheila?"

"Mm?" The silver hare, Redwing's no-nonsense chief of security, looked up from her console. She'd been following some odd readings in the outer docking ring. "Something like that." She had, in fact, walked in on the rabbits. But she tried not to think about it. It had been an embarrassing moment for her. She valued the chain of command and had felt, by witnessing such a private moment, she'd somehow breached a level of trust between her and them. Strangely, both Graham and Annika had been nonchalant about the whole thing. "Rabbits have no shame," Sheila decided before moving on to an adjacent console.

"And what about hares?" Talkeetna pressed.

"This one has plenty. And she deals with it by kicking tail." And roughly riding Barrow. But she still wasn't used to admitting that. Their relationship had always been adversarial, and now it was ... well, something else. A mate-ship. She still couldn't believe how domesticated she'd become. Half the time, she submitted to it, but the other half she struggled. She wasn't a creature with a healthy reserve of inner peace. But when she and Barrow butted heads and bodies, it was something else. The hare fidgeted. "Thanks for nothing, Seldovia."

"What?"

"You've got everyone thinking about sex," Talkeetna complained, bushy brick-red tail swishing about. "And it's not even mid-morning."

"Well,sorry," the two-hued fur complained. "If you two can't control yourselves ... " She trailed off, noticing that Graham was kissing Annika, now. She perked. Ooh. Seward was a fairly good kisser. What access tube was he crawling around in right now? He had a cute, fluffy ass. That bobtail. "Dammit," she cursed.

"You were saying about self-control?" Talkeetna taunted.

Seldovia grumbled.

"Lieutenant-Commander," Sheila said, waving at the red squirrel.

Talkeetna scampered over to her. They were the same rank, but Talkeetna was slotted ahead of the hare on the pecking order on account of being in the command track instead of security. "What is it?"

"According to internal sensors, we've had a break-in down in Cargo Bay Three. I've been tracking it. I tried to activate force-fields, but they were deactivated on-site."

"By who?"

"Sensors don't show anyone there. That's the problem."

"Computer glitch?"

The computer chirruped. "I don't glitch," it said in Minuet's voice.

The two females ignored her.

"Go check it out. Don't go alone," Talkeetna said. "And affix a better lock or something? This isn't the first break-in we've had this week." There were many benefits to having more residents and visitors on the station. But there were some detriments, too. Increased petty crime was one of them.

"Right," Sheila said, holstering a phase pistol and bounding for the main lift. She got in and barked at the computer, "Cargo Bay Three."

As the hare disappeared from sight, Seldovia adjusted her chrome ear-piece and turned to her communications board. "We're being hailed by Reverie."

"Main viewer," the squirrel said, stepping into the center of the room.

The image of a cinnamon mouse flashed into sight. "Hello, old friend."

"I'm not old, Peregrine."

The mouse chuckled, lounging in his captain's chair on the freighter's 'quaint' bridge. It could do with a polish. "Older than me."

"By a year. And don't act like we didn't just see each other yesterday." They'd had lunch together.

"We're going on a transport run," he announced. Behind him, Jale the wolverine was doing some repairs on a wall panel. Having no success, he punched it and it came back online. "We'll be back in four days. Permission to disembark?"

"Permission granted. Let's be careful out there, though. Reverie's no spring chicken. And with more valuable cargo coming in and out of the station, you're going to be a bigger prize for pirates."

"Oh, but they'd have to catch me first. And nobody," he promised, "scurries like a mouse."

"I_do_ know a thing or two about mouses," the squirrel said warmly. In addition to Peregrine being one of her best friends, she was mated to a mouse. Herkimer.

"Later, Red."

"Right." The image winked out. Turning to Seldovia, Talkeetna muttered, "He knows I hate being called that."

"Why?" The skunk removed her ear-piece.

"Would you like it if I called you Stripes?"

"I'd prefer you call me Princess." Seldovia puffed herself up, pushing her breasts forward as if to let the squirrel know 'mine are bigger.'

Talkeetna smirked. "Fortunately, I'm not your subject."

The transparent aluminum windows of the commander's office suddenly turned opaque.

Seldovia licked her teeth. "Huh. Guess they needed some privacy."

"Yeah. Well. They're in charge." The red squirrel blew out a breath and tried to focus. "Rest of us need to hold out 'til lunch hour." A mouse with a cherry on top. Might be too rich for a meal. But it would sure make a great dessert.

One of the Syndicate-loaned crew members, a male bat named Warsaw, joined Sheila outside the doors to Cargo Bay Three. It was all the way on the outer ring of the station, situated between docking hatches. This allowed for easy unloading and storage of ships' goods.

Before entering, Sheila whipped out a scanner. It blinked and trilled. "I'm detecting no life-signs. But this door's definitely been opened in the past hour."

"So?"

"So, it was locked. I'm the one who locked it."

"Could it have been one of the crew?"

She shook her big-eared head. "I doubt it. They would've said something."

"Heh. Not if they snuck in for-"

"If they snuck in there for that, they'd probably still be at it," Sheila interrupted. This wasn't a starship with limited nooks and crannies. Redwing was a huge station, and there were many rooms and even entire decks that didn't get used very often. It made public sex very easy. She and Barrow sometimes did it in-

"The infirmary, huh?" Warsaw chuckled. "Next time I'm on a bio-bed, I'm going to wonder if it's been used." He stretched his wing-arms. "You know, I'm a bat."

"I've had my fill, thanks."

"You know you love us."

"Didn't say I didn't," the hare defended.

"But you seem ... embarrassed by your feelings?" When she didn't respond, he continued, "Not that I'm hitting on you. I'm actually in a relationship, myself. Maybe you've met-"

"Shut up." She furrowed her brow, tapping her scanner into the camera feed for this corridor. "Computer, has this recording been tampered with?"

"Negative," it said in Minuet's smooth tone.

"What is it?" Warsaw asked, inching closer.

Before the bat could siphon the info from her mind, she gave him the scanner. It showed the cargo bay door opening and closing. According to all evidence, someone had broken in. And yet-

"There's no one there. The door opened by itself!" Warsaw said, blinking in confusion. "Unless we have a ghost."

"I don't believe in ghosts. Do you sense anyone in there?" she asked. "Any mental activity at all?"

The cornflower-blue bat concentrated, shaking his head at first. "No, I ... actually, wait." He nodded. "Yes. Vaguely. Whoever it is has been trained in telepathic evasion. They're compartmentalizing their thoughts extremely well."

"We're going in. Phase pistols to heavy stun," the hare ordered as she tapped the cargo bay's entry panel. The heavy metal doors whoosh-clunked open. "Computer, lights," she said. "Third-illumination." No reason to give the intruder too clear a sight at them. Warsaw wouldn't need traditional sight to pinpoint their location.

She directed thought-commands to the bat, who nodded to indicate he was picking them up. He pointed with a wing-arm, big, elongated thumb hooked around his own phase pistol. With the scanner apparently useless on the intruder, Sheila pocketed it and cocked her ears. You had to get up pretty early in the morning to evade a hare's hearing. Heavy breathing. Hear that?

Warsaw's angular, sweeping ears tilted in subtle ways. Yes. Whoever it is, their control is starting to crack. I can sense nervousness. They didn't expect to get caught. We're close.

I'll fire first.

Warsaw slotted behind Sheila, covering her in case she missed or the intruder managed to get past her.

The silver hare's tall, twitching ears scissored apart and then came together, tilting right. She spun, aimed, and fired. A ruby-red beam cut through the air with an electric sizzle. At first, it appeared she was shooting at an empty space.

The shriek said otherwise. It was less a call of pain than one of spastic surprise, a figure jolting into view. It writhed, wobbled, and slumped over dramatically into unconsciousness. The hare and bat rushed toward it.

It was Warsaw who exclaimed, "It's a chameleon! I think?" His eyes went wide. "I've never actually seen one before ... "

Sheila sheathed her weapon, paws on hips and elbows akimbo. She looked down at the prone figure. Its scales shimmered every color in the rainbow, glittering like an aurora, as if trying to find the exact hue that would blend it in with its surroundings. "He must not be able to cloak himself while unconscious."

"It's a she, actually," Warsaw said. "When you stunned it, its mental control lapsed just enough. I have access to its mind."

A year ago, the hare would've balked at this. Now, she took in stride and even welcomed the invasion of privacy. I wonder what my old self would think of me? Would she be disgusted? "Chameleons are rarely seen outside Scalie space," Sheila muttered. "They're known introverts. Reptiles in general are. Or, at least, they prefer to keep to their own kind."

"Not this one. She's a spy."

"For the Scalies?"

Warsaw shook his head. "No, a sect of local pirates. Or fairly local, anyway." He stretched his invisible telepathic feelers deeper into the reptile's mind. "They acquired her services from the Scalies, though. Maybe ... a partnership?"

Sheila mulled that over for a moment. "Why would pirates be working with an organized government? They hate governments. That's why they want us gone. And the Scalies have a known disdain for mammals." As a rule. Of course, there were always exceptions. She recalled the earlier discussion in Ops about stereotypes. "Doesn't make sense."

The bat shook his powder-blue head. "I can't give you anything else. I'm starting to hit walls. Her mind's too disciplined, even when inactive. And you know there's only one way for me to gain full, unfettered access." He let that hang. "But I'm not that kind of bat."

"What kind is that?"

"The kind that violates others."

"But it's fine to read other's surface thoughts without permission?"

"That's not a violation," he insisted. "That's natural to us. Why should we suppress something that's akin to breathing?"

"Mm." She'd had this discussion before. The hare knew what it was like to be violated. The wasps had tortured her in all sorts of twisted ways when she'd been their prisoner. She'd always had fiercely independent tendencies. After that, they'd intensified into an unhealthy capacity for self-isolation. She became an island. No one was ever going to hurt her again, or even get the chance. Then Barrow came along ...

He was relaxed and irreverent, everything she wasn't. The first time they'd slept together, she'd only done it to shut him up. And it'd worked. But, once he'd gotten over her ferocity, he'd come back for more. And, somehow, she gave it. She kept waking up in the same bed as him, wondering what she was doing. You were lonely. You needed the connection after being a captive for so long. It was your way of reaching out. You could've had sex with a hologram after you were rescued. You didn't. You chose him.

But she hadn't let him bite her, not even after they'd arrived at Redwing Station. Not even after they'd moved in together. The bat kept pressing. Finally, she relented. Everything had changed. There were no more secrets, no more solitary burdens. Everything had been shared. Mind, soul, and body. It was exhilarating. It was pleasurable. It was even ... special. Now, I crave it. His bite. His body. I love him. What's wrong with me? I used to have self-control. Now, I crave being vulnerable ...

"I'm sorry I struck a nerve," Warsaw said sincerely.

Sheila blinked and looked to the bat.

"Why do you turn everything into a struggle? Do you feel, by not fighting, you're making yourself weak?"

"I didn't ask for a diagnosis. You're not my doctor," she said sharply.

"No, you're sleeping with your doctor. Or he's sleeping with you. I've talked to him. We've brushed minds."

"He just needed someone to fix," the hare insisted.

"No." Warsaw shook his head. "Sure, he enjoys helping you, but it's not to fuel his own ego as a healer. You know that. He loves you."

She blushed beneath her fur. "What's your point?"

"I'm just giving you an outside perspective." He skipped a beat before saying, "You know bats. Not many do. Or, if they do, they're scared of us. They don't trust us. Some furs on this station avoid me and Arlet," he said of his partner.

"Give it time. In a few months, you'll blend right in," Sheila assured, voice softening into an almost gentle reassurance. "Barrow does."

"He's a bit 'tamer' than us in the Syndicate." Warsaw's voice held a note of disapproval. "He caters to non-bat culture to fit in. He shouldn't have to do that. None of us should have to."

Sheila sighed in annoyance, unsure whether she should take offense at that or not. He was just supporting my mate ... now, he's insulting him? What the hell? That's what I get for trying to be nice. A potshot. No one insults my bat but me."This conversation is over."

"We make a good team," Warsaw declared. "We should work together more."

Not responding, she turned back to the limp chameleon. She didn't take compliments very well. She didn't know how to handle them. Insults, on the other paw? She knew how to fight back. "We'll bring her to the brig, leave her in a holding cell. When she wakes, you can help me with the interrogation."

"Understood."

She slapped the badge above her breast. "Barrow."

A few seconds passed before, "Yes?"

"Meet me and Warsaw in the brig. We have an intruder."

"An intruder?"

"A chameleon," Sheila explained to the rest of the crew. It was afternoon. The senior officers were all gathered in the conference room, a deck below Ops. "She's conscious now but won't talk. Barrow and our Syndicate guests have extracted all the information from her mind they can without ... abandoning decorum," she said, delicately.

Barrow glanced at his mate, directing his thoughts into her mind. So, you spend your nights with a bat, and now you're spending your days with one, too? You're practically an honorary winged thing at this point!

I'm all hare, Barrow. All the way down.

Care to remind me, love?

She tried not to smile. But, oh, she wanted to. _Later._The silver hare then explained to the others how the reptile in the brig was working for the pirates. "But that's not all. Apparently, she's on loan from the Scalie Solidarity."

"Why would the Scalies and pirates be working together?" Herkimer asked. The mouse leaned forward in his chair, placing his elbows on the tabletop.

"Rumor has it," Seldovia said, ears ever open, "that the Scalies are getting irked with the Federation. Tensions are high along their border."

"The Federation has problems. That's not news," Sheila said brusquely. As a Federation ex-pat, she knew the lofty ideals to which the organization aspired. 'The most diverse civilization in history!' Hundreds of species, one society. In reality, there were divisions, none sharper than those between predator and prey. She'd been left for dead by her predator superiors after crossing into the UT on a failed mission. For someone who insists that nothing bothers her, you think an awful lot about the past. "That's got nothing to do with us. The High Command is the strongest power in the quadrant, and everyone knows it. Even after the wars."

"Perhaps someone wishes to destabilize that?" Annika said.

"They'd cause more havoc screwing around in actual High Command space," Herkimer said.

"That would warrant a response. This? No one 'officially' has jurisdiction in the UT. We can't scold them for making inroads here. We're doing the same thing."

It was Talkeetna who said, "The dragon technology."

Everyone looked to the squirrel.

"They must know about it. They're curious. Maybe they even feel they have some sort of 'ownership' in it, genetically."

"Why not infiltrate the ruins, then?" Barrow wondered. "This station was built by avian worshipers of dragons, not dragons themselves."

"But our computer," Talkeetna stressed, looking upward, knowing that Minuet could hear everything they were saying, "contains gigaquads of data on the subject, including maps to other ancient dragon sites on other worlds." Allegedly.

Adak had been tasked to work with Minuet to study the star maps. Particularly, to find out more about the planets. If was possible some of the worlds in question had been inhabited by mammals since the dragons had evolved to a higher plane. Ideally, all the places with hidden technology would be abandoned, but that was highly unlikely. If they were inhabited, getting permission to extract anything was going to be tricky. It would be impossible to keep secret. And could they really trust anyone having access to such things?

"No one can have the map but the High Command. If other powers get a hold of it, they'll use it for their advantage."

"Aren't we doing that?" Herkimer said.

"We're not using what we find for warfare. There could be more Gateways out there." The gateways were portals that could transport individuals across vast distances in an instant. Configured properly, they could also shift ships in the same fashion. Whole fleets suddenly deposited around an unprepared target? The fight would be over before it began. "Computer," said Graham.

There was a chirping noise.

"You've been listening, I presume?"

"Affirmative," Minuet responded.

"Why's she sound so formal in audio?" Barrow wondered. "She's informal as fuck when she's inhabiting that hologram. Literally." He'd looked into Adak's mind. He knew what was going on.

"I'm simply trying to be professional when 'on duty'," Minuet responded. "Of course, I can dispense with that if-"

"No. No, you're fine, Minuet," Graham said. The station being alive was taking some getting used to. I wonder if she watched me and Annika earlier? "Is there any way you can safeguard the sensitive information you possess?"

"As long as I have free will, no one's getting what I don't wish them to have," she answered. "And I doubt any organic is smart enough to reprogram me."

Herkimer knocked on the tabletop, superstitiously.

"Then we have no problem here?" Barrow said, spreading his wing-arms. "Right? Everything's fine?"

"If the Scalies or the pirates_are_ snooping about," Sheila insisted, "they're unlikely to give up just because we detained one of their spies. They'll send another. Even if they can't hack into Minuet-"

"I think Adak has managed that." Barrow, again.

"They'll still try."

"It's not the Scalies I'd be worried about," said Talkeetna. She crossed her arms, a look of concern on her face. Her angular, tufted ears cocked atop her head, whiskers twitching. "They're not going to start something with the High Command when they're engaged in a cold war with the Federation. They're not strong enough to handle two enemies at once. It's the pirates ... "

"Yes. They've thrived in anarchy," Annika said, long ears flicking. "They're probably displeased at our presence. On top of that, we forge an alliance with the Syndicate and uncover ruins which may contain radical technology? They fear a radical power shift."

"Riffraff like them don't get to thwart progress," Sheila said. "The power's already shifting, whether they like it or not."

"That won't stop them from lashing out. They feel their way of life is threatened. In their minds, they have no other option."

Graham held up a paw for silence before asking, "Where's Reverie?"

"On a trade run," Talkeetna answered.

"Do they know the pirates are getting restless?"

"I warned Peregrine, yes," the squirrel said. "He'll be okay. Besides, Reverie is small potatoes. Redwing is the real prize. Before, it was a dump. Now? It's a retrofitted destination. It's usable. It's valuable. But they can't take the station without intel. They're striking a bargain with the Scalies. The Scalies have heard about the ruins. They want to know more. The pirates need to know about this new mysterious 'computer system' that's running the station."

"Strange bedfellows," Barrow remarked.

Sheila rolled her eyes. You really want to get laid, don't you?

Barrow gave her a discreet glance. You read my mind.

"Maybe they'll realize they can't win and give up," Herkimer said hopefully.

Talkeetna put a paw atop her mate's. "If they gave up easily, they wouldn't be pirates, mousey."

Graham shook his head. "I feel like both sides, the Solidarity and the pirates, are feeling us out. We're an unknown quantity. This is a fluid situation. But we have to be ready in case it progresses. Seldovia, when we're done here, alert Arctic and Marcus' Syndicate ships. I'll talk to Admiral Flint."

"Sure thing," the skunk said.

The commander was about to dismiss everyone but, exchanging glances with Annika, said, "Well, I suppose I should announce something while we're all together. I'm not quite sure how to say this." His eyes lit up, looking to his crew. His most trusted officers. His friends. "Annika and I-"

"We're having a baby," the female snow rabbit announced for him.

There were many squeaks, chitters, and mews from the others.

"Really?!"

"Congratulations!"

"Aw!"

"Just one? I thought rabbits had litters."

"I had no idea!" Barrow said.

Sheila ribbed the telepathic bat in the side.

Everyone stood up and mobbed the two snow rabbits, bestowing hugs and such. If snow rabbits were prone to blushing, they would've done so. Eventually, he dismissed his officers without mentioning the promotion. He was going to keep that between him and Annika. He'd already decided to decline it in favor of remaining head of Redwing, and he didn't want anyone feeling guilty for standing in the way of his career. He wanted to be a captain someday. Hopefully, that would work out. But right now, he needed to be here.

He could live with that sacrifice.

"Isn't it great?" Seldovia said later that evening, sipping a strong, fruity drink.

"What is?" Seward asked, putting the dishes back in the food processor. It whirred and they shimmered away. He'd eaten light this evening. He just wasn't very hungry.

"Oh, right, you weren't at the conference meeting."

"I was reinforcing the power grids in Section Four. Minuet claims to have found a way to make them more efficient," the male explained.

"Annika's pregnant."

"Ah?"

"That's not a very good surprise face, Seward."

"Perhaps we should replay the moment?"

"They're_such_ a sweet couple," the skunk continued, half-tipsy. "They'll make wonderful parents. I knew something was up earlier. I'm glad it's good news." She sloshed some alcohol in her mouth before swallowing. "We could use more of that."

"You want another drink?"

"No, no. Good news."

"Oh. Yes, it is better than bad."

"Seems every other thing that comes our way is a potential problem." She paused. "That in mind, I wouldn't want to raise a family in this environment."

"I'm sure they've considered that." Seward padded back to the couch. Seldovia liked to lounge there after meals.

"Hah, you think they planned this? Doubtful."

"What makes you say that?" he asked as he sat beside her.

"Annika looked rattled. Well, as rattled as snow rabbits get. And she's normally the most composed fur on the station. She definitely wasn't prepared."

"I never notice things like that. I've always been a bit on the oblivious side, I suppose." He twitched restlessly. "I get too involved in my work."

"I know. It's geeky and adorable." She finished her drink and put the glass down on the coffee table in front of them. "How long are lapine gestations, by the way? I know bats have long ones, on account of their brains being so complex. Eleven months? Skunks are average. I think rabbits are shorter. Eight?"

Seward stared out the window, at the stars. He did that sometimes when the skunk went on a rambling spree. He was such a quiet soul in comparison. Like many couples on the station, they seemed to be an odd combination at first. But, ultimately, they made each other stronger by having qualities the other lacked.

"Seward?"

"Mm?"

"How long are your gestations? You're the same species at them."

He took a breath. "Seven-and-a-half months."

"Wow. I suppose that's why there are so many of you." She smiled. "_One_of the reasons." The skunk flowed toward her mate. Her smile faded when he seemed to lean away. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied.

Seldovia frowned. "My job is to listen to furs talk all day. I can hear it in your voice."

"It's nothing. It's ... " He sighed. "I was giving Minuet her portable emitter, today."

"Yeah, I saw her ... or her holographic self walking in the corridor earlier. She was on her way to Adak's quarters. Didn't even say hello." The skunk paused. "Computers don't sleep. So, when she 'sleeps' with him, it's ... how does that work? Also, I can't be the only one who's thought about this: but where does his cum go once it's in her? Does she transport it out of her avatar somehow or-"

"Her program is incredibly complex," Seward said simply, before Seldovia delved too deeply into crazily lewd theories.

The skunk raised a brow. "Oh, I see. She intrigues you." She paused. "Doesn't she?"

"A bit."

"Sexually?"

He hesitated. He wasn't going to admit to that. Only, "When I was delivering her emitter, she wasn't wearing clothes."

"Mm." Seldovia leaned back, taking a deep breath. She was a bit flushed from the alcohol. "You fantasized about her, then."

The snow rabbit's nose sniffed guiltily. "It happened before I realized I was doing it."

The skunk smiled weakly. "You've put up with a lot of ... stuff," she said, "from me. You have no reason to feel guilty. You're a rabbit. Your libido is ... " She raised her paw upward. "You know? I'm sure you miss being with your own species." She'd missed being with hers. That had been a factor in her slip-up a few months ago.

"Interspecies relationships are ... " She blew out a breath. They happened in space a lot more than on planets, on account of demographics in space being much more diverse. Sometimes, you got stuck on long voyages or assignments with no one who looked like you. You soon learned not to see the differences. "Our bodies weren't designed for each other. I mean, they fit. They work. But it's ... not quite the same, I guess?" She looked downward. "Sometimes, I wish I was a snow rabbit."

"Sometimes, I wish I was a skunk," he admitted. "Then maybe I'd be able to please you better."

"You please me plenty," she whispered. "I love you _because_you're a rabbit. I like you for you. I don't want you to be anyone else."

"But you want to be someone else, yourself?"

Seldovia hugged herself, admitting, "We both have self-esteem issues. We constantly need built up. I practically feed on flattery, and you ... you always doubt yourself."

Seward couldn't deny that.

"We can never have children, Seward," the skunk said suddenly, with a hint of sadness. It wasn't the first time she'd realized that, obviously. But after Graham and Annika's announcement, it hit extra hard.

Seward leaned back and put an arm around his mate. He almost apologized but stopped himself. "There are other ways."

"I know, but ... " She shook her head. "I know. You're right. I'm being selfish." Growing up royalty, it had been expected that she'd produce heirs. She'd been brought up with the anticipation. Now, her line could die with her. Unless she was artificially inseminated. Her line would live on, but there would be no trace of Seward in it. And she loved him. What was her lineage without his involvement?

She leaned her head on Seward's shoulder. "I'm so very lucky to have you. When we got here, I think everyone saw me a spoiled brat. No one too me seriously. They don't know what I've been through. I saw my family murdered. I saw-" She stopped, getting choked up.

Seward turned his head and kissed her neck. "You deserve far better."

He'd seen things, too. In the war. The ship he'd been on had been obliterated in the final battle. He'd been one of a handful of survivors from his ship, and it had taken months of rehab to return to normal. As an engineer, a professional fixer, he'd felt so helpless and worthless. When he'd met Seldovia, he'd begun to feel vital again. She'd taken him to such places. She still did. "I love you," he whispered, pressing against her. "Did I say that already?"

"I don't mind an encore."

"I love you, Princess," he repeated.

"I love you, too." She sighed, her black paws beneath his uniform. "Sweet bunny," she breathed, leaning back.

"Princess," he said again, noses bumping. There was a light jingle as his belt was unbuckled. His pants were loosened.

They were soon locked in a wet, twisting kiss. Their lips smacked apart. Breaths mingled. Her arm swung out and accidentally knocked over her empty liquor glass. It tumbled onto the carpet. "Mm." Her maw opened, only to find his around it. "Mm-h ... "

"Mm ... " He tugged at her clothes, ridding her of her shirt and unhooking her bra.

She pulled at his attire, too, sinking deeply into the plush couch cushions. This would be more comfortable in bed, but she didn't have the willpower to push him off her and walk all the way there.

Shirt off, his lightly-toned chest exposed, he began grinding his body to hers.

"Oh, Seward," the skunk moaned, kicking her pants away. Or trying to. Her arousal was spiking. She wanted this. She wanted this so badly. The male was down to his boxer-briefs, and they weren't hiding much. She reached down to feel him through the fabric. What she found made her shiver. She couldn't hold back anymore. "I wanna-"

"Do it," he grunted back, already knowing.

The skunk, flooded with arousal, relaxed the muscles around her scent-gland. Just beneath her tail-base, it contained two chemicals. One, a noxious odor. The other, an intensely strong pheromone. There was a hissing sound. She sprayed the pheromone, fanning her impossibly fluffy stripe-tail to the side so as to spread it.

Seward's nose tickled. This caused him to sniff deeply, which drew the drug-like scent into his bloodstream. Within seconds, it began to affect his brain. He felt increasingly warm. And dumb. And so, so horny. Not just for anyone or anything. But her. Her scent. Her body. He was insanely consumed by her and only her. He could barely control himself! His white paws were all over, grabbing, rubbing, dragging. His mouth covered her pelt, peppering her with kisses.

"Bunny like?" the skunk cooed, peeling back his underwear. His cock was rock-hard. Finally. All mine. She squeezed it, spreading her thighs. "Take my panties off. Hurry."

He did as told.

"Good boy," she huffed. "Actually, I think I ... ah, ah," she panted, her breasts being squeezed, "have enough for one more." Her scent gland took a while to refill once emptied, mainly because it rarely needed to be. The pheromones were potent enough that one dose was enough. But she sprayed again. She felt the gland go dry. "I'm ... I'm out," she announced.

Seward didn't hear her. He was too busy making ecstatic, drug-induced expressions. He couldn't stop sniffing her.

"Don't hyperventilate," she teased. "Slow breaths."

He slowed his breathing, neck lolling about. It was as if the universe was a protective bubble made of everything skunk. Nothing else mattered but them. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

"I wish I could feel what you're feeling," she confided, watching his face. _So adorable._Yet another reason she'd cheated with that skunk. She'd missed being 'high' on her partner. There was truly nothing like it. It was otherworldly. It made you completely uninhibited, bringing you to a place of pure intimacy with your partner. "But I love watching you get addicted to me." She slid a paw down his spine, grabbing his tail-fluff. "You're completely under my influence, aren't you?"

Seward nodded hazily.

"Tell me the truth ... you want to fuck Minuet."

"Yes," he admitted.

"Mm. Hear that, computer?" Seldovia called to the air. "You're fuckable, I guess. Cogratulations? But you know who's _more_fuckable than you?" Seldovia waited for the computer to ask, but it stayed silent. It didn't matter, though. She _knew_it was listening. "Tell her, Seward." The skunk wrapped her lithe legs around the randy rabbit. "Tell her she'll have to take a number. Cause I guarantee whatever 'facsimiles' she has don't come close to comparing with ... with my tits," she said, pushing her breasts upward, "or my tail." She lazily whooshed her tail around, wiggling her ebony-furred ass. "And let's not forget my pussy." She reached down between them to rub at her clitoris.

"You ... it's, uh," he mumbled, sucking on her silky shoulder. How could he forget any of that? Right now, he was obsessed with it! All of it. He fondled her breasts again. The fur along her middle was creamy-white. It went down, down, between her legs. And, then, finally, a silky slit of pure pink. "It's hot, like ... " This was so difficult. He was high on her! He could barely put together a single sentence, let alone think of appropriate words. "Pussy," he murmured, poking his sensitive, dribbling glans between her petal-lips. "Want your-"

"Tell_her_ that," the skunk said. She was getting off on showing up Minuet. "Your cock's mine. You're mine. And you want _real_pussy, doesn't it?"

"Yes!" he cried.

"Then do what you're good for, bunny boy," she whispered hotly into one of his ears.

He gladly accepted the invitation. His whole body trembled. Finding his mark, his smooth, pink penis wedged itself into her moist, hot vagina. He sighed from the sensitivity, taking a moment to adjust to it before pulling back. Slowly, slowly, so just his head remained in her. Then-

Bump!

"Uh. Uh-h ... " The skunk clawed at her mate's back as he began to rut her.

Hump!

"Oh ... "

Thump!

Seldovia whimpered pitifully. He knew just the spot, and he was angling himself to make sure he plowed across it. She bucked upward, desperately trying to ensure her budding clitoris was stimulated by the friction of his loin-fur, which rubbed back and forth over hers as his hips rolled, rolled relentlessly, like waves. He'd found a rhythm and wasn't going to let up.

The skunk felt his swollen, furry ball-sac slapping against her. By now, she was dripping wet, and his cock was making impossibly lewd noises as it moved. Squish! Squelch! Somehow, this only increased her excitement. Her eyes squeezed shut and her toes curled, heels digging into the backs of his legs as she nearly disappeared into gaps of the loosened couch cushions.

"I'm ... I'm ... " She was cumming. Oh, she was cumming! Struggling for breath, she heard herself cry out. The sound was involuntary, just like the tremors that racked her sex. She felt a trickle of nectar, felt herself clamp down around her mate.

Still, Seward kept going. While the skunk's body desperately milked him, he desperately tried to milk her for every moment of pleasure he could get. He didn't want this to end. They were locked in a mutually beneficial battle that would end, as always, in a draw.

The skunk clung to him, whining his name as he brought her to multiple orgasms before succumbing himself.

He lost his rhythm, sharply hilting inside her, giving a final haphazard grind before his muscles tensed. He arched, momentarily paralyzed as he began ejaculating. "Ohhhhh," he moaned, the sound drawn out like a sigh. A quick breath, and he repeated it more quickly. "Oh, oh ... oh ... "

He gasped once more and slumped, going quiet atop her. The tide of his orgasm retreated. His throat was dry, and he felt his seed seeping out of the skunk's spread vulva and onto his sac. And then, with nowhere else to go, onto the couch. Thankfully, it was stain-proof.

Seldovia, in the aftermath, spoke first. Or tried to. She ended up panting instead.

Seward hugged her tightly. She was such a beautiful mess, her well-groomed fur no longer well-groomed, in addition to being matted with sweat.

"Whose my delicious bunny prince?" she finally mumbled on his chin, suckling and nibbling at random. "Mm?

"Me. I am." He rested his forehead to hers, nose to nose. His hips eased back, his wet cock flopping out of her. Semen streamed onto the cushions. They ignored it. "Who's my princess?"

"Me," she breathed, kneading his rump-cheeks. "I am." A smile spread across her striped face. "God, that was good."

Seward just grunted, still high on her.

The royal skunk giggled. "We sure showed her, didn't we?"

"Showed who?" he responded lightly. Right now, he couldn't even remember the features on Minuet's holographic face. He didn't want to. How could she compare to his princess?

"Good answer," Seldovia purred happily as they nuzzled their way through afterglow.

Adak stopped what he was doing, raising his head. His ears stood tall in the dark. They looked like silhouettes in front of the oval window that looked out into space. "What is it?"

"I think I have been ... called out?" Minuet said, a miffed expression on her perfectly-programmed face.

"What? By who?"

Minuet shook her head. She was above petty organic squabbles. Wasn't she? "Unimportant. The situation has resolved itself." Loudly, too.

Adak blinked in confusion. His body was further down the bed, head and shoulders situated between the hologram's open thighs.

"Now," Minuet said, turning back to the matter at paw. Her fingers curled around his tall, slender ears. He was going to 'give her muzzle.' She was quite looking forward to it. "Where were we?"

"They've captured our spy," the female raccoon complained.

"How do you know?" asked the raspy voice on the view screen.

"She was wearing a subspace transponder triggered to go off in the event her body absorbed weapons fire. The same transponder she was using to sneak out information to us."

There was a pause on the other end. The owner of the voice was in shadow. Warm shadow, by the looks of it. The room they were in glowed faintly of red, as if in the presence of volcanic heat. If the raccoon had to guess, she'd say it was the reptile's bedroom. She probably woke him up. "How much information did you acquire?" he asked.

"Not enough," the raccoon said.

The shadowy scalie squinted, its snout visible as it jutted forward. "You_could_ be lying. Mammals are known liars, especially your species."

The raccoon spread her paws, smiling wickedly. "I am not a crook."

"Only because you live under no laws which could label you as one."

"All we know," the raccoon continued, before they got side-tracked, "is they have some new computer system. The station's received a lot of updates. We don't know how to circumvent them."

"Are you going to go after our agent?"

"Not without incentive." The masked pirate shrugged. "Like I said. The snow rabbits and their lap-furs have fortified the place. And they have multiple combat-ready ships in the area. We need more help." The pirates had to take control of that station before it got any more powerful. It was foolish to believe the High Command would stay at Redwing and be content in their little corner of the sandbox. No, they were compulsive do-gooders. They'd want to spread their 'prosperity' and 'law and order' further. And further. Gag!_Do-gooding was infectious, like a disease. _I'd rather do bad. Much more fun.

"We've given you enough," the reptile insisted. "Intelligence in exchange for intelligence. Which, to be frank, can hardly be called that. Now, you ask for weapons? Why should we arm pirates and scoundrels in unaligned space?" the cranky reptile asked. "We have other problems on our hands."

"Yes, I've heard about the Federation. Just as you've heard that Redwing's computer contains all the information you could ever want about your ancient cold-blooded cousins. Your very powerful_cousins. Shouldn't you be the heirs to their treasures? I bet the Federation would leave you alone if you had access to that. I bet _everyone would leave you alone. But you know that." The raccoon tilted her head. "You're the one who first contacted me, remember?"

The figure on the viewer considered. "I only have the authority to authorize so much. The Scalie Senate is divided right now. Half want to act, half want to withdraw further. I've been forced to take the middle-ground to maintain my position. If I help you any more, I'll be acting outside my purveyance." He leaned forward and lowered his voice, revealing himself to be a snake.

The raccoon didn't know what that word meant. Perverts? She knew that. Sh_e was often accused of being one. But she was a master of faking her way through things. Like orgasms. She wasn't ashamed to admit she'd used her body to rise through the ruthless ranks. Sometimes, she enjoyed it. Other times, unfortunately, she had to act like she did. _Males are such pushovers.

"The risk of being caught-"

"The greater the risks, the bigger the rewards," the pirate told him. She should know. It was a personal motto. "We both want the same thing," she reminded seriously, swinging her ringtail. "To ensure our futures. You're isolationists. Well, so are we!" She patted her barely-concealed breasts. She preferred low-cut shirts. "But if we're going to be in bed together, we gotta fuck. Otherwise, you're wasting my time." She gave the cold-blooded male a lascivious look. She'd never done a reptile. "So, what position shall we take?"