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The coils of Sonassa’s body shift beneath Donovan, causing the man to blink his way out of the porn-addled stupor he’d been in for the last hour or so. After their intense coupling, the N’gaa had lain back with her human lover to continue watching an assortment of pornographic films projected upon the ceiling. Donovan had selected video after video, deconstructing the various styles of sex Humans enjoyed; from external stimuli to internal, different positions, and even going over various kinks he both approved of and kept distance from. Every question Sonassa asked, Donovan did his best to answer. For as surreal an experience it had been, he wanted to make sure at least someone on the ship was getting a decent grasp of the more unspoken part of human culture.

He knew Dr. Janvier was there for anthropological reasons, with the council also having military matters covered with the Major as well as language, science, and even super-science with the rest. So given the sexually-motivated society he’d found his way into, Donovan had decided somewhere between the creampie compilation and the dominatrix clip to be the unofficial ambassador of that niche part of their existence. The notion remained absurd the more he thought about it, but given how those he’d spent intimate time with seemed to relish the experience, Donovan figures it is a role he was filling as best as possible given the circumstances.

A question regarding the toys being used is being directed at him, so Donovan focuses on Sonassa once more, turning from the screen overhead. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Sonassa pauses the video as a woman is being played with by two other women, both holding exceptionally large dildos. “The ‘stimuli assistance’ modules available in our society tend to focus on increasing sensation, rather than strictly replacing… parts. Do males of your species not feel inadequate when viewing material depicting females being pleased with far larger appendages than the males are endowed with?”

Donovan squints as the translation software runs its course, before going wide-eyed at the overall question. He thought best how to phrase any possible answer before his mind picks up on the first part of her reply. “Wait, you’ve got that kind of stuff here?” He laughs, obviously having missed that particular stall on his way through the markets.

Sonassa looks a little puzzled, a ‘no duh’ expression plastered across her reptilian visage. “Of course. It would be a rather boring journey without. Though,” She sighs “Technically not meant for such… activities. It is meant to provide an individual’s Part’chk’ta stimuli in the absence of things such as wind, rain and similar effects one would be used to while on the surface of a habitable planet.” When the tooltip regarding Part’chk’ta pops up, Donovan forces himself not to dismiss it immediately like all the other times, curious as to what it means. ‘Part’chk’ta. A term used to describe the amalgamation of both the nervous system itself and emotional and psychological response to stimuli affecting it.’

“That actually makes a lot of sense. I’d not really thought about it, but yeah; I can imagine not feeling a proper breeze, or cool morning mist, or any of that would drive you bonkers after a while.” Donovan shifts around in Sonassa’s coils until he is facing her again. “So if it’s for staving off home-sickness, how does that equate to… intimate matters?”

Sonassa takes a deep breath, checking the door as though she is expecting her father to walk in at that moment. Seemingly satisfied Kal’thras is not hiding in wait outside, she speaks in a low, hushed growl; a whisper reverberating through her whole body. “You can modify the code of the modules to depict all sorts of sensations. Normally, they’re just programmed with environmental stimuli. But you can load up other things, like lots of hands touching, or stroking...” Sonassa drags her fingers along the side of Donovan’s face for emphasis.

“So tell me.” Donovan sighs, “Why are we still sitting here?”

The jovial but rhetorical question hung in the air with Sonassa seeming to give it some thought. Before Donovan could explain what he meant, she seems to take some small offence and replies defensively “Do you not wish to remain in my company?”

“Nonono, no.” Donovan backpedals. “All I meant was- uh, we could be going to this place so you can show me all this interesting stuff.” He took a deep breath. “Sorry, it’s hard keeping track of all the different sayings and stuff, things I just kinda… take for granted I suppose.” He places a hand on Sonassas face, the confused and hurt expression lessening but not disappearing. “If I had wanted to leave after having, you know…” He clears his throat “Then I would have asked to. I stayed because I enjoyed just relaxing with you. Haven’t had much chance to just sit in someone’s company and relax while here. It’s always rushin’ here and rushin’ there.” He flicks his hands one way and the other for emphasis.

“So you still want to… spend your time with me?” Sonassa asks, Donovan trying to hide his worry upon hearing the somewhat needy request of someone smitten. But that worry disappears after the telltale smirk of him being played for a fool cracks along Sonassa’s lips.

“Oh, very funny.” Donovan says flatly, unable to hide his own smile as Sonassa breaks out into laughter.

“You are too easy, Donovan Lane.” The man shakes his head at the comment, but concedes the win to Sonassa. “Let us depart, I have yet to sleep for my between-shift.” The N’gaa shifts her form to deposit Donovan on his feet, the tip of her tail gathering his pyjamas before playfully tossing them at his chest. While Donovan gets himself dressed, Sonassa acquires a belt and several small pouches which she clips to it. Donovan recognises one pouch as being the right size and shape for her Tolbek scales, and another being rectangular and capable of fitting one of the little nutrient cube boxes within. The third is large enough and the right sort of shape to hold a fountain pen or similar, but its contents are a mystery.

With his dressing gown thrown on and his pyjamas pulled up tight, Donovan is directed through Sonassa’s threshold and back into the corridor, the sliding metal door closing behind the N’gaa with a near silent hiss. As though it were timed to Sonassa pulling his arm in the direction of the market, an alert pops up in Donovan’s display. His instinct to simply dismiss it is put on hold when he notices the sender; ‘Veruii the Deft’. “Hold a sec.” He resists Sonassa’s tugging enough for her to turn to him in curiosity. He reads the rest of the message and grins. “Quick detour.”

The two arrive at the door to the tailor, Donovan stepping quickly inside with Sonassa in tow. At the back of the room sits the H’sha, tirelessly working on another article of clothing. Looking up, her smile broadens. “Mister Lane. So good of you to come so quickly. I am honoured.”

Donovan was about to say he was the one that should be honoured, but with Veruii giving him a knowing smile, he could tell she knew his true feelings. “I couldn’t wait to see what you’d decided to make for me.” Sonassa seemed impressed that he’d gone to the effort of getting something more fitting than his - now somewhat stale - Earthly attire, giving him an appreciative nod as a sign of respect.

Veruii reaches around behind her desk, pulling up a silvery tube about as wide and long as the man’s forearm, handing it carefully to Donovan. He waits a moment, seemingly judging the weight of it - or lack thereof - before going to open one end. “Please, wait.” Veruii pleads, causing Donovan to stop in his tracks.

Sonassa clears her throat, putting a hand atop Donovan’s to halt his progress further. “It is ‘shansu’ in H’sha culture to open a gift in front of the one who gave it to you.” ‘Shanshu: incorrect etiquette’ the popup informs Donovan as he quickly closes the bag.

“Sorry, I-”

“It is okay.” Veruii reassures him, taking a few deep breaths herself. “Your intentions were not out of rudeness. It must be difficult adapting to so many new cultures.”

Donovan lets out a big sigh, but smiles nervously at the end. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. But I’d much rather be here and embarrassed than anywhere else.” He chuckles, attempting to relieve the still somewhat tense atmosphere.

“That you do.” Veruii grins. “No need to tell me what you think of it, such words will filter back to me like leaves in the current.” She waves him away with a tentacled arm. “You were on your way somewhere important. Go. Enjoy your time.” Donovan couldn’t tell whether that last bit was in relation to his more lewd acts or simply referencing his admission at their initial meeting of him being on the ship for what may amount to being a very short stay. A stay which he was both cherishing and beginning to wonder why it hadn’t been called to an end yet. His consideration of how much time he’d actually spent on the ship was brought to an abrupt end as Sonassa dragged him out of Veruii’s shop and back into the crimson-lit Leisure Hub.

“Try that on later, for now, we have an engineer to see.” The N’gaa grinned, though Donovan could tell from her sideways glances that she too was very curious as to what was in the tube. In not too long a time, the two make their way to the market. Along the short journey they trade an assortment of quotes from the films they’d just watched, endeavouring to make the other blush with one reference or another while still being obscure enough for those walking past to be oblivious of their meaning.

To Donovan’s surprise it’s not the Charge & Drain that he is being led to, as he is pulled past and away from it towards one of the walls. Noticing the man’s confusion, Sonassa grins. “Dusty does good work, but this needs a… special touch. Come.” She leads him through the mostly tame crowd and out to the other side. This is an area of the ship Donovan had not yet traversed, and he is eager to see what lies beyond. Though his anticipation is somewhat muted as a wall panel opens up to reveal an all-too-similar metallic hallway leading further into the ship.

“So, where abouts are we-”

“Here.” Sonassa stops just a few paces from the closing panel behind them, before placing a hand on the wall opposite. At first Donovan thinks she’s pulling his leg as her smile grows mischievous and the silence continues towards awkwardness. But just as the man is about to ask her to elaborate, the wall slides apart to reveal a workshop beyond. Sonassa gestures for Donovan to enter before her, and albeit hesitantly to begin with, he does so.

The space is full of all manner of gadgets and tech, the vast majority being entirely out of his understanding regarding reason or purpose, and the few he could fathom were obvious in their utility: from parts of H’sha suits to an assortment of metallic limbs. A feline head pops out from behind one of the larger constructs and smiles, her four eyes blinking happily. “Donovan, This is Cheery. Cheery Nervehoner.” The Shylar makes her way around the workbench once introduced. Standing close to Donovan’s chest height, her sandy yellow fur mottles through to creamy white along her chest and abdomen while ending with a bright orange puff of fur at the tip of her tail. Intricate geometric designs shimmer and flicker through purple and green hues along all four limbs, the ‘decoware’ making her look to Donovan like she belongs more in a cyberpunk style videogame than a spaceship.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Th-tok-tai?” Donovan half asks, half states as he holds his hand out for her to shake. His attempt at pronouncing the name that Sonassa had said in her own tongue, versus what the translation software had provided was not going particularly well.

She accepts his hand quickly, giving it a hearty shake while beaming her feline smile up at him. “Mister Lane! The pleasure, it is mine. And please, just ‘Cheery’ is fine.” She smiles, a look of understanding upon her face as she pronounces the word ‘Cheery’ in English, albeit with her own strange accent. “I have heard so much about you!”

“Nothing bad I hope.” He jokes, realising it may be taken the wrong way, but far too late to stop his mouth from falling into the trope.

Sonassa seems to be confused by the statement but the Shylar still shaking his hand just laughs. “Quite the contrary. You are somewhat of a… Cass-A-Nova, yes?” Donovan had never thought of himself as such, and being called out as one by an extraterrestrial takes him entirely by surprise. Seeing the need to direct the man a little further, Cheery indicates a large chair nearby. “Come, come, sit.”

“Thank you.” Donovan says politely and red cheeked as he places the tube of clothing atop one of the trolleys before settling into the alien workshop equivalent of a dentist's chair. He marvels at how the individual pads seem to shift to accept his weight and body shape reactively.

“So what brings you to the Ashya’enna Engineering Department?” Cheery asks, holding out a bowl of small red balls. Sonassa takes one, sniffing it before placing it on her tongue. Her eyes go wide as she savours the taste.

Donovan places one of the treats in his mouth before chuckling as his tongue is flooded with the distinct jaffa orange flavour of the candy coated chocolate from home. He wondered if they had been part of some trade of goods with the Council’s arrival. Crunching through the sugary shell to get to the flavoured chocolate inside, Donovan takes a moment to think. “Sonassa here told me about some… modules? Sensation assistance was it?” Sonassa nods, looking around as though they are in some sort of shady drug deal in a back alley.

“Oh, is that all?” Cheery laughs.

“What he means is,” Sonassa slithers a little closer to the jubilant Shylar “He’s interested in the modules AND the… mods.”

“Really?” all four of Cheery’s eyebrows waggled at the man as she came to a better understanding of why Donovan was there. “Well, what sort of package were you after?”

Donovan looks from Cheery to Sonassa, and back. “Uh, well, what packages are there?”

The Shylar’s face lights up like a kid who’d just read a whole book on dinosaurs and needed to share every little fact with anyone willing to listen. “Well, all packages revolve around a Hith-Shan Shal phot mesh.” The look on the man’s face tells Cheery she’d have to wait a moment for the translation package to kick in, and from what Donovan can see past the series of popups in his display, it looks like holding back was starting to cause her physical pain.

He shook his head, dismissing the popups. “What exactly is… that mesh stuff?”

Cheery dashes over to a drawer and pulls out a strip of fine fabric, each strand as thin as spider silk woven into a fishnet style mesh with holes barely a couple millimetres apart. “It’s a synthetic protein strand that is constructed beneath your skin, just below the surface. It is then connected to your Shal phot through existing nerve clusters.” ‘Shal phot: nervous system’ the comparatively more concise popup in Donovan’s vision once again states, dismissing itself before Donovan has the chance. “The procedure is painless, though can take some time to complete, and calibrate.”

Donovan thinks about the tech required. “Is that something I’d be allowed to take back home with me? Not sure if getting something surgically implanted would be a good idea if I’ve just got to get it out in a couple of days.”

Cheery thinks for a moment, before checking something via some floating holographic shapes that pop out of her wrist. “Nope, that’s all cleared for Council return. As the tech required to make it function as intended would be left on station, it would simply serve as a slightly upgraded sensory system until your body broke down the unused proteins over the course of a few Da’padit.” She pulls out several variants of the silken fabric, all with different thread counts, ranging from fine medical gauze to something more akin to the fishnet stockings he’d spied not an hour earlier on Sonassa’s ceiling.

Sonassa pointed to the one with gaps barely large enough to fit a pencil through. “That was my choice. It has served me… well.” She takes a deep breath, smiling to Donovan as Cheery raises an eyebrow at the N’gaa.

Cheery reaches out to Donovan’s arm, pinching it lightly. He recoils a little, but remains curiously coy as she continues to poke his neck and nose with a small tool. “Hmmm… I would recommend this one.” She selects one of the more narrow weaves and holds it out for Donovan to take, the man inspecting it closely as she continues. “Your skin is not quite as pliant as the H’sha, but far more so than Sonassa and her kin.” She prods Sonassa cheekily with the tool, demonstrating the difference in give her scales have, compared to his skin.

“Well, I suppose if that’s your recommendation, I’m happy with it.” Donovan sighs, nodding to the fabric in his hand before offering it back to the Shylar engineer. “So I take it that works with the connection service… thing?”

Cheery nods. “Correct. Though depending on which one you have of those, it will have different features.” Donovan takes a deep breath and nods again, remembering how surprised Ka’Len had been regarding the Advanced package he seemed to have gotten for free. Cheery picks up on the subtle change in the man’s mood. “So… which do you have?”

Donovan gulps. “Advanced?” He says sheepishly. Sonassa’s eyes go wide in shock, but Cheery just laughs. “Wh-what? What’s so funny?”

The Shylar turns to Sonassa, huskily purring “You’re gonna have so much fun with him.” Before Donovan can ask what she meant by that, he’s pushed back into the chair as it reclines. “Okay, Cass-a-nova off with your clothes, and let me get to work.” He takes a deep breath, arching back to slide his pyjama pants off before hunching forward to remove his robe and shirt. It occurs to Donovan that his readiness to strip for anyone who asks is probably something he should perhaps have a good long think about, though right now was undoubtedly not the time or place.

Donovan takes a few deep breaths as he settles into the chair, Sonassa holding his hand. Cheery acquires several large capsules filled with a milky white substance, affixing them to mechanical arms jutting out from the ceiling. She then snaps into place several thinner arms each one sporting a thin tube - which she carefully connects to each capsule - along with a near microscopically thin needle. The needles are what take Donovan’s full attention as Cheery lowers each arm individually towards his body. One is placed above each of his shoulders, with another for each thigh for four in total.

“Don’t flinch.” Sonassa offers as Cheery looks to the man for any change of mind.

“When in Rome…” He manages to grunt through gritted teeth, waiting for the inevitable four-way-jab. But after squinting his eyes shut, then opening them confused, Donovan feels relieved that the needles were so painless to enter his body.

“Here we go.” Cheery’s chirpy demeanour stung like he thought the needles would have as the four arms went to work. It is a level of discomfort that Donovan had never encountered in his entire life; not so much pain as it was a profound sense of something unnatural happening. And it is happening just under the surface of his skin.

Donovan’s fists clench as he tries to resist the urge to scratch at his arms and legs, the sensation of an army of microscopic ants crawling beneath - chewing out their own new tunnels for a massive hive - slowly spreading from each injection site. In an effort to calm the man and keep his mind focused, Cheery begins to explain the process. “The fluid in here,” she taps one of the nearer canisters with a claw, the vibrations eerily spreading through the metallic arm and down the lines of mesh being woven in Donovan’s thigh “is passed through the needles and guided through a… molecular infrastructure to take shape inside your… dermis.” The lag in translation is only minor, though Donovan’s memory of high-school biology is lagging much further behind the alien software.

“So, it just… worms its way, through my skin, until- until it…?” The strange sensation spreads across his chest as the weave meets from both sides and begins to spread outward.

“Until it has covered every external part of you.” Cheery offers to finish the man’s sentence.

Donovan’s heart rate spikes. “Every? External? Part?” Somewhere in the back of Donovan’s mind a little voice is screaming at him to pay more attention to the fine print, as he realises having a nano-mesh capable of simulating an assortment of experiences will no doubt be something that would encompass the whole body, with special detail paid to certain erogenous areas in this case, given the nature of the software modifications he is to receive as well.

“I suppose you may wish to have some internal work done.” Cheery mutters thoughtfully. Then with several swipes along the holographic display she seems satisfied again. “Done.”

“Done?” Donovan asks, not sure what part of her initial plan she’s just altered.

“Not yet.” Cheery says sighing as she turns to Sonassa. “Bit impatient isn’t he?” she jokes, smiling devilishly at Donovan, her bright orange puff flitting behind her with each happy flick of her tail.

By the time the strange substance has reached Donovan’s knees, the spread of it up his leg encroaches upon his nethers. And with a few guttural moans, it begins the ‘detail’ work. He can feel each strand push through his flesh, pulling it firm in places that it wouldn’t normally be, provoking an unwanted - but unknown to Donovan, necessary - reaction in his loins. Both Sonassa and Cheery look on in curious amusement as his member engorges with blood, the fine synthetic webbing quickly visible from the surface as it burrows harmlessly through the man’s flesh.

“No sheath.” Cheery notes aloud, with Sonassa nodding beside her. “Must say it looks far more impressive than the notes we got.”

“N-notes?” Donovan stammers, the sensation of his neck being wrung in a fine mesh only barely outweighed by the intense feeling of the same happening across his junk.

“The more you talk, the longer it’ll take.” Cheery chides him playfully. “You should be feeling the internal process down there right about… now.” As she says that, the strange tunnelling that had managed to push up to the tip of his cock suddenly took a deep dive, plunging into the urethra as Donovan struggles to remain still on the chair. He is further distracted by the assortment of strands weaving across both sets of cheeks, as both his arse and mouth are claimed by the strange process.

Then, as the top of his head is wreathed in the sensation of bugs making ordered lines through his hair and his feet being pulled into a pair of loosely-knitted socks from the wrong direction, the process is over. The needles retract and the slightly stiff consistency of what he’d been pumped with is reduced to… nothing. At least, nothing Donovan can objectively feel. “Can I…?” He nervously asks. Cheery gives him a nod as she deconstructs the setup. He raises his arm, looking at the skin closely as he flexes his fingers. No trace of a mesh is visible, even in the harsh overhead lighting of the workshop. “That was…”

“Not over yet, Mr Lane.” Cheery chuckles, pulling up a stool beside Donovan’s chair. “Now we have the calibration.” She pulls out a wand of sorts, pressing it against Donovan’s temple before examining something in her own heads-up display. “Hmmm, okay.” She presses it against the other temple. “Yes, that makes sense.” Cheery sits upright, gesturing for Sonassa to come stand beside her. “Okay, we’re going to run a few basic calibration tests to get it linked properly. Sonassa will help.”

“Uh… okay?” Donovan replies, looking between the two of them. “What do I do?”

Cheery smiles broadly, handing the wand to Sonassa. “Just lay back and tell me if you have anywhere that lacks nerve input.” The N’gaa taps the device in her hand several times before pressing it to Donovan’s knee. The reaction in his body is immediate. Water - cool, ocean water - pours across his leg, enveloping more and more of it until it’s up to his waist, spreading across his still erect member to the other thigh before both descending down that leg and up his torso. As it reached his heavily panting chest it picked up the pace, racing down his arms, up his neck and into his mouth.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Donovan was able to breathe when he calmed down and focused, he would have sworn he was actually drowning. Cheery, realising the settings are perhaps a bit on the intense side, quickly checks the tool and dials back the sensation with an apologetic look. “Wha- how?” Donovan takes a moment to calm his mind down, as he knows the answer to both of those questions already. With a few more deep breaths, and a couple of held up hands asking the other two to wait for him to get his bearings, he focuses on the sensation and tries to be of some use in the calibration. It was then he realised his right hip was feeling relatively dry, as was his left foot. “So- hoo, wow - I uh, think it’s not properly… connected?” Donovan points to his hip. “There, and my foot.” He raises the problematic appendage.

Cheery cancels the simulation and taps both his hip and foot with the device, the latter requiring several more taps before she seems happy with the result. “Perhaps something lighter this time?” Sonassa suggests.

“Let us see…” Cheery studies her display for a while before finding something that agrees with her. She then taps Donovan on the head with the wand, and as though a cloud had just burst open, Donovan could feel patterings of rain upon his skin. But unlike on earth, where it would usually come from above or at least from a singular direction, he was feeling it equally across every inch of his body. “How is that?”

Donovan takes another deep breath at the strange sensation, but nods. “It’s amazing. Surreal, but amazing.”

“Okay, now close your eyes.” Cheery asks, and without a second thought Donovan does so. “What do you feel now?” As she asks, the feeling of the individual imaginary droplets striking his skin shift towards his head. But not as though they were only affecting that part of his body, it feels like it is raining overhead. Which is particularly odd as in his reclined state, ‘overhead’ is somewhat in the direction of the door he entered from, not directly up.

“It’s like… like I’m standing in the rain.” Donovan manages to say, a smile full of wonder glazed across his face.

“Aaaaand now?” The rain direction shifts again, striking his back and the backs of his knees and arms.

“Now I’m laying… face down in the rain?” He comments again.

“Sha’vra!” Cheery exclaims. ‘Excellent!’ The tooltip quickly displays the translation in Donovan's otherwise blackened sight. “So, Mr. Lane…” Donovan opens his eyes as the Shylar’s voice drops a full register, the growl of mischief in her tone clear to all “Are you still happy for me to install the modifications you were after?”

Sonassa looks to the man with what must pass for puppy-dog-eyes in her culture, which while very different from the same look on earth still has the desired effect on Donovan. “Of course.” He sighs, still getting used to the intense sensations he’s just been bombarded with. “Is it, like, extra material or something?”

Cheery smiles coyly “No, it’s more on the… software end of things.” She gestures to Sonassa. “The system is built with privacy in mind, and there’s no direct way someone other than the user should be able to access their own network. But my modification to the code can grant that access.” She taps her wand another few times before brandishing it like a flamboyant pirate would swish a rapier “And to go along with the expanded access, there are some simulations of my own creation. May I?”

Donovan nods cautiously, allowing the Shylar to prod his belly with the tip of the tool. But instead of the dull metal tip he feels a large, wet tongue press against his abs, the muscle slowly pulling down against his skin as it descends towards his nethers. Donovan’s heart beats faster, and his breath grows short as the lewd sensation creeps closer to his erection before just falling short. He lets loose a few deep breaths. “Shit…”

“Oh, that’s nothing. ‘Full synchronisation mode’ is my latest… masterpiece.” She swipes across the wand a few more times before pressing it to Donovan’s belly again. But this time he only feels the dull metal tip. That is, until Cheery lightly scrapes her chest with claws. Donovan holds his breath as he feels each claw trace across his own chest in almost perfect synch. She then places one of her fingers in her mouth and lightly sucks on it, Donovan feeling the phantom digit against his own lips, his mouth subconsciously making the same shape as if to suck it before the engineer’s wand pulls up from his body. “Thoughts?”

“Fuck me…” Donovan all but moaned as he slumped back in the chair. “Sorry.”

“I take it that’s a ‘yes’ then?” The man nods, a little embarrassed at his outburst. “I’ll just need access to alter the files, you should be getting a prompt… now?” Donovan’s display lit up with several pop-up boxes requesting secondary user access permissions. He checked them all, allowing Cheery the full access she needs to modify the code.

It was only after that he began questioning the wisdom of such a decision. “So, uh this mesh… does it work like muscle? Can someone just remotely move me around?” Cheery shoots him a suspicious look, before realising he meant others doing that to him, not the possibility of him doing it to others.

“It can control you no more than those clothes.” She offers, seemingly still a little unsure though most of her suspicion is put to rest by Donovan’s relieved face. “Give it a few minutes for the structure to reconfigure, and we’ll be able to calibrate.”

“Again?” The words were out of Donovan’s mouth before he knew he was thinking them.

Cheery sighs in the way a parent would to a child asking lots of stupid questions, but not wanting to tell them they are stupid questions. “The calibration before was for the mesh, this time it would be synching the modifications to the software. Not every being has the same nerve tolerance.” Donovan nods at the sense of it, a silence befalling the room as he watches a small loading graphic at the bottom of his vision slowly track from left to right. But Cheery is unable to let the silence last. “So have you heard about the Guvaan situation?”

Sonassa turns to the Shylar, a look of puzzlement upon her face. “The Guvaan?”

Cheery pats Donovan on the shoulder. “Seems to be that one of the humans - and I have absolutely no idea which one it could possibly be - mated with one. It has caused quite a stir.” The man’s cheeks go red as the inference hits home.

“Ah, yes. ‘That’ situation.” Sonassa replies, as an embarrassed smile creeps across Donovan’s face. “I have been wondering about that. Why a Guvaan?”

“Why not?” Donovan is quick to answer, though he isn’t sure where this conversation could go, he has a bad feeling it will be somewhere he doesn’t want it to be given Ka’Len’s reaction earlier.

Sonassa thinks about her answer carefully. “They are the caretakers, the… maintainers. They have no reproductive purpose, they just…” her reasoning faltering, the N’gaa switches to the offensive. “It’s rude to answer a question with a question.”

“Okay,” Donovan sighs, realising he was bound to have this conversation eventually given what he knew of the Guvaan’s place in this society “To answer your question properly, Galfa was asking questions regarding human mating habits, and I offered to give her a demonstration.” The look of confusion upon Sonassa’s face might have been comical if Donovan wasn’t trying to tear down - or at least chip away at - a rather solid foundation of social hierarchy bordering on bigotry. “When I arrived, she brought me food and water, and we talked. She sounded alone, and nobody around here seemed to care.”

“But… it’s a Guvaan.” Sonassa looked to Cheery for support, however the Shylar just shrugged.

“Look, I get it. Your society has had this race of helpers that reproduce asexually, that are built for doing work nobody else wants to do, and are considered more a tool than a person because of it. All I’m saying is there’s a lot more to them than that, you just need to open your mind.” The translation software must be running on overtime because it is several seconds before Sonassa reaches up to grab the top of her head. “Okay, okay, phrasing is my enemy. Got it.” Donovan huffs, once more spying the briefest ‘sorry’ at the bottom of his vision. “I just mean that you’ve all had this ‘way’ of doing things for so long, maybe you should question why.”

“There’s this one Guvaan. One of the grey ones; Byrla Noveton Galra. They’re usually the one sent my way when I require assistance. Well, they propositioned me last shift.” Cheery states, a nervous smile and bitten lip belying her conflicting thoughts.

“Are- are you really going to take it’s offer?” Sonassa asks, shocked.

“You should.” Donovan butts in before Cheery can make her way to an answer. “For so very many reasons.”

The Shylar gives him a sideways glance. “And why is that?”

“What was it Ka’Len said?” Donovan mutters to himself, his memory chugging through the overload of information thrown at him the last few days. He clears his throat. “When you say ‘bigger’ and they can just give you ‘bigger’, why complain?” It takes a moment for the words to land, but when they do Sonassa takes a deep breath while Cheery just bursts into laughter. “It’s clear they have needs too, otherwise they wouldn’t be hanging around places you folks have fun. I just don’t see the problem in giving something to someone if they ask nicely, especially if it’s not hurting anyone.”

“So…” Cheery pipes up, her smile infectious and sultry “What was it like?”

“Surreal.” Donovan sighs, leaning back to remember his and Galfa’s coupling. “The lack of bones and - i suppose - ‘solid’ skin, makes for a ridiculous set of possibilities. They feel like slick rubber when they want to, or duct tape. Sticky but not… sticky? Does that make sense?” The other two shake their heads. “It’s like… like this.” He swipes a finger down the metal bar of a nearby trolley, the motion smooth and near frictionless. “But also like this.” He licks the finger before running it down the same part of the trolley again, his moist skin grabbing at the smooth surface. “I could slide in with ease, and feel the full sensation of her resisting me pulling out.” The lewdness of his words causes Donovan’s member to twitch, an act not gone unnoticed by his audience.

“And what about… the finish?” Cheery asks, her breathing more erratic than before.

“Explosive in all the best ways. Though I could do without the panic attack next time. Thought I’d killed her.” Donovan tries laughing at that, but it sounded too morbid when done out loud, so he ends it with a hesitant chuckle. “I didn’t have a problem with getting too covered in… her. And I doubt you would either.” He says, glancing Sonassa’s way. “But Cheery, you might want to bring a towel.”

“Oh, you needn’t worry warning her about that.” Sonassa chimes in with a devilish smile. “She spends more time at the H’sha spa than her own quarters.”

“Hmmm,” Cheery growls, the look in her eyes telling Donovan he should best stay out of whatever was to happen next. “Says the N’gaa who commissioned the ‘tongue bath’ sim.”

Sonassa looks frustrated, taking the defensive with “It’s a deeply spiritual thing, it helps attune a N’gaesh to their body before they are mated.”

“Tell me Donovan,” Cheery says, tapping her wand a few times “feeling anything ‘spiritual’ with this?” She places it on the man’s stomach and his body erupts in pleasurable sensation as a thousand forked tongues lash against his body, dragging across his skin, over his arms, legs, chest and neck. He writhes against the chair as his feet are subjected to an exquisite torture of licks, his member the only part seemingly spared the onslaught of sensation.

As soon as it has begun, Sonassa puts an end to it, pushing the wand away from him while glaring at Cheery. It takes Donovan a moment to realise it was not a glare of anger, but one of concern as he works out the high pitched warble penetrating his mind is in fact his own disjointed scream. With the world returning to calm, and having the full attention of both Cheery and Sonassa, Donovan clears his throat. “Sorry.” The popup at the bottom of his display flashes red, drawing his attention to the mostly full - but not completely full - progress bar within it. “Still calibrating.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Cheery sighs. “That was out of line.”

“Tell ya what though,” Donovan grins, laying back down to relax while the modification continues to unpack itself inside his mind “good thing you pulled the plug, damn near saw God.” Sonassa looks at him puzzled, but Cheery bursts into laughter. The three of them take a few deep breaths to calm down before Donovan confirms the results in his display. “Says it’s finished.”

“Right then.'' With a sigh, Cheery taps away at her wrist-mounted display, swiping across shapes before pressing her finger to the back of Donovan’s hand. A friend request is received in his heads up display, which he immediately accepts. Then a second popup, asking for ‘Mesh access for Cheery Nervehoner’ hovers down the bottom of his sight. He gulps and hits accept, with the box replaced by another permission request from Sonassa. He smiles and grants her access as well before sitting up to look at the two of them.

“So, what now?”

Cheery smiles wickedly. “Calibration.” She walks over to Donovan, placing a finger on his chest. “So, Mister Lane.” The contact point with Cheery’s digit suddenly begins to heat up, almost to the point of burning as she asks “What sensations should we use as a baseline? Heat?” As she moves her finger lower down Donovan’s body, the temperature shifts back to normal, then continues down the scale becoming cold like ice as it stops barely an inch from his still erect member. “Cold?” She looks to Sonassa for either confirmation or assistance, but the N’gaa has her hand palm down on the part of her body corresponding to the finger on Donovans.

“I… I think there’s something…” Sonassa mumbles, looking to Cheery for help “Wrong?” Donovan, putting two and two together, tests the theory in his mind by scraping a fingernail across his thigh. Sonassa doubles over, clutching the side of her tail. “Oh, oh that…” the N’gaa elicits gasps of confusion at the strange sensation.

“Hmm…” Cheery looks from one to the other. “That’s not supposed to happen.” She removes her finger from Donovan’s belly and heads over to Sonassa, prodding her with the wand. “It’s not showing any synchronisation engaged…” Donovan, unable to help himself, gently runs a finger up the underside of his cock. Sonassa cries out in pleasure from the touch, with Cheery turning to glare at him. “Well, if you’re gonna be like that.” She swipes one of the hexagons hovering above her wrist, and snake-like cables pour from the chair to bind his hands and feet. “Now behave.”

Sonassa, feeling the tendrils wrap around her wrists furiously tries to grab at them, but then realises she’s not the one being restrained and finds a spare patch of floor to curl up on. Donovan, realising he’s been put in the proverbial ‘naughty corner’ takes stock of his actions and calms himself. Perhaps he had gone too far, as Sonassa looks as though she were receiving a significantly more powerful version of whatever Donovan is being subjected to. “Sorry.” He offers with a deep sigh. “That was… sorry.”

“It… It was not… bad.” Sonassa manages between breaths. “Just, a lot.” She looks to the still erect member jutting out from Donovan’s lap. “Is that what it feels like? When we, when uh…”

Donovan shakes his head, smiling. “Nope. It feels much better.”

“Wait.” Cheery spun around, looking at the two of them accusatorially. “You? And You?” Sonassa and Donovan freeze, but the man nods cautiously. Sonassa gulps. “Does your father know?”

“No?” The N’gaa whispers before getting her bearings. “No. No, and he can not know. That would be…”

“Not beneficial to my health?” Donovan suggests, trying to lighten the mood a little. “It’s okay, I’m not gonna say anything.” he clears his throat. “Well, not again. Cheery?”

Eyes turn to the Shylar weighing the options with the tapping of her wand. “No, of course I won’t say anything.” She takes a few short breaths, thinking hard “But you two are gonna have to do a lot better at keeping your mouths shut.” She taps the device a few more times, resetting whatever she’s altered in the last minute of conversation, then prods Sonassa with the business end. A couple hexagon swipes later and a metallic tentacle pulls itself from the base of the chair to stroke along the inside of Donovan’s thigh. Speaking over his sighs, Cheery asks Sonassa “Feel anything now?” The N’gaa looks to Donovan squirming from the tentacles touch, then shakes her head. “Good. Good. I haven’t had to work with an Advanced Service Package before, there’s a few… extra bits I have to work around.”

Donovan looks to the bottom of his display for whatever popup he was expecting regarding the translation lag, but there is nothing beyond his own sight. Shrugging as best one can while bound to an ultra-tech recliner, Donovan sighs “Understandable. So… are you gonna let me go then?”

“Hmmm…” Cheery taps her chin with the wand. “Not yet. I think we need to run a few more… tests.” She double checks the overloaded Sonassa is okay before walking over to Donovan. “Once I have access to your mesh, I no longer need the analytic tool.” She puts the wand on one of the side tables. “I can bring up any menu I want from here.” She swipes her fingers across the assortment of shapes on her wrist. “And I’m not letting you go until I am sure I have everything working ‘right’. Don’t want it malfunctioning, especially not while you’re somewhere important, like…” Donovan could feel a strange heat rolling up between his thighs, before the sensation of a massive tongue licks up his balls and shaft “say, in front of the Tribunal?”

“That-” Donovan moaned, the tongue continuing unabated up his abs and chest “W-would be problematic.”

“So.” Cheery scrapes her tongue across the top set of teeth in her mouth, making a strange wet velcro noise as she considers what to do to her captive human. Then as a brief grin flashes across her face, she appears to come to a decision. “Perhaps I should teach you some of the mating practices of this Tribunal’s races. It may help you understand your… unique position.”

More swipes and taps against the holographic display emitted by her wristband plunges Donovan’s arms and legs into what feels like freshly fallen snow. “HOO! What the- oh that’s, that’s…”

“Cold, yes?” Cheery all but growls, a low sensual tone hiding just beneath the surface of every syllable. “Did you know: on Kagash Prime, only the equator is capable of supporting life, and even then, it is rather cold. The Kagash people mate in the snow, often pushing their partners to climb with them up the treacherous peaks, or venture further towards the poles as a sign of strength.”

“D-do they now?” Donovan stammers as he feels the harsh cold against his limbs countered by a warmth radiating towards his member. “Wh-what…”

“That would be the female.” Cheery chuckles, swiping away at her display with a cheeky grin. “The reproductive organ of a male Kagash - as with most races in this Tribunal - is contained within the body, until it is needed. When that part of the body is subjected to… intense heat,” The warmth at Donovan’s loins grows hotter, the virtual female’s sex inching closer to his own “it responds by engorging, reaching out for the female until-”

“Oh! Fuck…” The tip of Donovan’s cock slips inside something invisible. He looks down to his member to see nothing but thin air. He can’t help but compare the sensation to his time with Meeka, how it felt like her velvety passage was wringing him for every drop right from the get go, to how wonderfully warm she was. But this was markedly different. For starters the heat was far more intense, and the ‘fit’ far less tight. Once he managed to calm his breaths from the initial sensation, Donovan spoke up. “It, it feels different than, uh…” He realised he’d not mentioned his pairing with the Kagash earlier, which resulted in several sets of eyebrows being raised.

“Wait.” Cheery did the mental gymnastics before Sonassa managed to, grinning ears to ears as she realised what he’d just let slip. “Already? Who! Tell!” She paused the simulation, leaving the man’s member in a state of semi-strangulation with one of the stronger virtual muscular contractions.

Feeling like there was no way but full disclosure, Donovan sighs. “M-Meeka. Po’Meeka?” He tried to remember the full name she’d given back at the Arboretum, and failed. The tooltip at the bottom of his vision popped up, helping him with her full name, but before he could say it Cheery was already responding.

“You mated Meeka? You don’t swing low do you.” She laughed, Donovan lost in translation but not in tone. “So; Sonassa, Meeka and a Guvaan. Who else?” She allows the simulation to continue, bringing Donovan’s attention back to the state he was in; half buried in virtual snow, and fully buried in virtual Kagash. “Any Shylar?”

Donovan’s member is put through the wringer as he tries to focus on the question and not the aching in his loins. “N-not yet. Though,” He grins “I’m open to offers.” He exhales harshly as the Kagash male begins pumping more rigorously. “Just Ka’Len and Serazz. And her sisters.” He adds, bringing an impressed look to Cheery’s face, while Sonassa just nods. The simulated coupling begins to feel repetitive, with identical strokes along his cock becoming the norm. “This, this is… different.” He offers, by way of slightly changing the subject.

Cheery looks at her display. “Hmmm…” She swipes several times before giving a resigned nod. “It seems as though you’ve reached the end of the simulation, I’d programmed it to repeat the most ‘intense’ part of the experience until the target audience had reached their finish. It is problematic?”

“Not problematic,” Donovan groans, readjusting himself in the chair “Just a little… odd.”

Cheery nods, swiping through her database again to find another simulation as the milking sensation around his cock fades away. “Perhaps I should find one of the races not on this expedition, then.” She warbles, going from menu to menu before finding something appropriate. “How about the mating practices of the An’an’teer?” A tooltip in Donovan’s eyesight brings up a reference image of a strange being with the anthropomorphic shape of a classic werewolf, only covered in scales and with the head of an axolotl.

Donovan gulps, feeling a shiver of anticipation creep across his body. “Uh, what… what sort of-” His question is cut short as he feels a wide mouth clamp down on his waist. “Gah!” The virtual suction from it’s jaws intense enough to leave the site stinging slightly, as though receiving a basketball sized hickey.

“The female marks males as ‘theirs’ by giving him love bites all over his body.” Cheery grins as Donovan gasps from receiving another, this time on his chest. She walks over beside him. “The more a male tolerates his mate’s bites, the more devoted she will be.” Donovan pants as Cheery bends down to whisper in his ear “And the more intense the reproductive session will be.” Donovan looks up to the Shylar as she smiles, her lips almost touching his as she chuckles “This one I’m quite proud of. It’s interactive. All you have to do is say stop, and the bites… stop.” He waits for the catch, squealing as another bite lands on his inner thigh. “But the quicker you stop it, the… softer she’ll be.”

Donovan knew the translation software was having trouble parsing that phrase, but he got the gist, and realises the unspoken challenge laid before him. Sonassa and Cheery share a knowing look, thinking the man was too distracted or otherwise unaware to notice. But he knows what their smirks are for. Another bite behind his knee has his body jerk away with a moan. “Fuh- I swear they’re getting more… bitey.” He manages between chomps.

With Donovan weathering several more love bites without showing signs of stopping, Cheery speaks up. “Perhaps you like the biting?” She runs a claw along the man’s side, eliciting a pleasurable full-body shiver as real tactile sensation crosses over the virtual. “Where are we up to?” Donovan’s left shoulder tenses up as he gasps in pleasure. “Ah, that one. Which means here should be next.”

Keeping eye contact with the writhing and panting man, Cheery kneels to Donovan’s right, licking out with her tongue against the bottom of his ribs. Then with near perfect timing her lips descend alongside the virtual An’an’teer’s. And with two sets of lips, he feels two types of suction. “Ah Fuck. Cheery…” Donovan moans, his arms still bound by tentacles, unable to push away or hold close the Shylar’s feline head.

“I do think he enjoys that.” Sonassa interjects, sliding closer to the action. “One of the mating demonstrations - the ‘Porns’ - Donovan shared with me earlier, was of a man set upon by these people called ‘vampires’.” Donovan was about to laugh at the correlation but another lovingly painful set of lips fell upon his collarbone, causing him to gasp instead. “They bit the man then sucked his blood and… other parts.”

“Par naaaa…” Cheery moans, biting her lower lip. This time it takes the translation software a considerable while before it settles upon an appropriate definition. ‘Kinky.’

A new sensation assaults Donovan’s nethers, as a broad tongue lashes the underside of his member before drawing it into its folds. The look of confusion across his face is evident for all to see as he tries to deal with a strange sense of conflicting information sent through his nerves. “Wh-why does that… It feels- Fuh!” The lips descend rapidly, engulfing his cock and the surrounding area, sucking hard enough to leave the man breathless.

“Oh, I forgot.” Cheery grins wickedly. “An’an’teer males have two phalluses. Of course as you have only one, I have given you a toggle to select which member you experience the sensation from.” She smiles a moment before feigning a look of mock surprise, checking her wrist but not even bothering to bring up the display. “Are you feeling the sensations from both? What a strange glitch, I really must look into that.” Donovan has a brief moment where he realises how even without the translation software, he could tell Cheery was being sarcastic, as though that tone was universal. But his mind is snapped back to the present as his double-but-not cock is released to cool damp air before his abs, chest and neck are beset by a series of intense and brief virtual kisses.

As the broad tongue licks up the side of Donovan’s face, he feels a slippery orifice slide along his tool before bottoming out. However, he also feels his shaft pushed aside, grinding along the soft scales of the female’s belly. Donovan’s nerves, unable to deal with the duality of sensation, instead pass the whole thing off to his mind, which serves only to push the man faster into an orgasmic state. He must have spent close to an hour in that chair already, dealing with tests and calibrations, not to mention the teasing from Cheery, and it was definitely getting to him.

“I know that look.” Cheery chuckles, her whiskers grazing along Donovan’s shoulder as she gets close to his ear. “I’ve not seen it on a human, but I’ve seen it a thousand times before.” A rough tongue flicks out, licking his earlobe as she purrs “You’re getting close.”

“Fuck, Cheery…” Donovan was barely able to string those two words together, his cock being pounded by the enthusiastic yet virtual female who was allowed to reach her full sexual drive. The passage feels heavily textured; the path of it winding, as though distorting his cock in an almost spiral like shape as he is thrust inside. No muscles constrict around him, no contractions to distract him from the pure sensation of movement. It was entirely alien, and yet so very sensual.

“Cum for us, Donovan.” Sonassa moans into his other ear, causing the man to jump a little. It was a line from the Porn sure, but a request he could hardly ignore. He’d not heard her get close, and having her voice in one ear, echoed by Cheery in the other, became too much.

“Cum for us Donovan.” Cheery purrs, sending him over the edge. His member spasms, standing near-upright in his reclined state it sends volley after volley of pearlescent seed into the warm workshop air. Perhaps Karma, perhaps happenstance, the first shot lands square on Cheery’s ear, causing her to recoil in mild shock before giggling at the debauchery of it. She looks to Sonassa, who has taken hold of Donovan’s cock and is diving down to suckle it. “Kinky.” As Donovan cries in pleasure from Sonassa’s mouth milking him dry, Cheery scoops the dollop of cum from her fur and after some hesitation tastes it.

Donovan opens his eyes to see the Shylar’s cum-coated finger pop inside her mouth, her expression of curiosity turning to a mildly pleased acceptance, the finger returning to the site of impact for another dollop seconds later. His balls thoroughly drained by the eager N’gaa at his waist, Donovan sighs. “Calibration complete?” He arches his back as Sonassa sucks up the length of his member with a satisfied slurp, his legs and arms straining slightly against the metallic tendrils holding him down.

Cheery, smiling ear to ear pats both Donovan’s head and Sonassas. “For now. Definitely need to run some more tests later.” She can barely hold back her own sigh, swiping at her wrist mounted display to release his bindings, allowing the man to stretch his limbs properly. “A lot more tests.” She brings something up in her own display, which given the look of concentration she’s giving to seemingly invisible data, Donovan assumes is the actual analysis of the recent calibration. She gives it a good look as Sonassa helps Donovan sit up in the chair, before turning to them. “Everything’s working as intended. I’m sending you the database link for experience packages.” A popup briefly enters Donovan’s display before filing itself away. “The ones marked in red are best viewed… in restricted company.”

Donovan grins, nodding in understanding. “Right. Not something to put on for a casual stroll through the arboretum.”

“Probably not.” Cheery laughs. “So what-”

The door opens with an annoyed whoosh, something Donovan didn’t think an otherwise inanimate object was capable of. Cheery turns to see who’s interrupting their conversation, but it’s her shocked face that draws Donovan’s attention. He turns around to see the shiny black figure of Vuula standing in the doorway, hands on hips and looking much like the latex-clad Dominatrix from one of the videos he’d shared with Sonassa. “Donovan Lane, your attendance is required.” The ripples across her blank face shift in a way that Donovan could tell she was looking down at his naked body, despite it being mostly hidden by the chair. “Might I suggest a change of clothes.” And with that, the strict Guuvan steps back into the hallway, the door closing a little slower at her departure.

“Huh.” Donovan grumbles, not wishing the moment with Sonassa and Cheery to end so abruptly, but if Vuula is waiting outside for him, it is probably Tribunal related, and he didn’t want to keep them waiting. He slides out of the chair, giving first Sonassa then Cheery a hug before gathering his clothes. However, as he pulls his robe off one of the trolleys, the tube containing Veruii’s masterwork clatters to the floor. Looking at the mysterious tube rolling over to rest against his foot and the very stained pyjama pants left on the trolley, Donovan makes a decision.

“Where did you get that?” Cheery gasps as Donovan pulls from the tube a tunic of exquisite craftsmanship. It feels light as a feather and soft as silk in his hands, the silvery threads shining iridescent in the harsh lighting of the workshop like the shimmering surface of a bubble in bright summer sunlight. The colour itself is almost beyond comprehension; cool blues and greens sparking throughout with fiery oranges and reds. Yet still, when he looks closely at the fabric it is just simply white. An opal in cloth form.

“You must have made quite the impression.” Sonassa stares in amazement at the shimmering fabric. “Veruii doesn’t take rush orders on a whim.”

“Well, what do you think?” The Shylar was practically bouncing in place for Donovan to render an opinion, but the man couldn’t think beyond the sheer amazement at what he was holding. He unfurled the fabric properly, the full size and construction becoming clear as a triangular piece of fabric came into view. There were two holes with a small extension more like shoulderpads than sleeves, and a hood that ended in a point. The other two corners of material contained two rubbery tabs, that when pressed against the rest of the fabric held fast, but could be peeled off with ease.

Donovan throws the tunic on like he would a jacket, his arms sliding through the holes effortlessly before wrapping the two lower corners around his waist until it sits perfectly upon his frame. He presses the tips against the fabric and looks down at the result. “Wait, there’s something else.” Sonassa picks up the supposedly empty tube and taps out a second garment; a pair of pants. Donovan doesn’t waste any time, pulling them on quickly. He finds a similar set of tabs already attached to the beltline, and despite being almost perfect already, he tightens them enough to where he is confident they won’t just fall down with an unplanned sidestep or crouch.

“I… I’m…” Donovan can barely register the feel of the fabric on his skin, it is so light and soft. He moves around, overextending his arms and legs, but the tabs stay in place and it even somewhat stretches to the more extreme movements. “Nothing compares.” He manages after several attempts at a coherent sentence. “Nothing. I…” He begins to cry. Cheery and Sonassa look at each other concerned, approaching to comfort the man before he explains by saying with a quivering voice “This is the best thing I have ever worn. Ever. And there is no way - No. Way. - they’ll let me bring this back. No way. So… what? I go back home knowing I’ll never experience something like this ever again? The feel, the fit, it’s all just-”

A wave of cool water washes over Donovan from head to toe, subsiding as he stumbles back trying to flick it away only to realise he’s still perfectly dry. Cheery looks at him critically as she pulls her hand away from her wrist. “Emotional Cascade.” She sighs, stroking down Donovan’s still teary cheek. “Some species have a hard time reconciling their mundane lives with the experiences gained from their first interaction with other - more advanced - races.” Donovan nods sadly as the Shylar continues. “Given everything you’ve said of your stay, I’m surprised it had not happened sooner.”

Donovan gulps, gathering his things as his brain reminds him of the impatient Vuula waiting outside. “Sorry, it’s…”

Sonassa doesn’t wait for him to finish the sentence before hugging him from behind. Her tail wrapping around one leg as she holds him close. “I do not know why it is we have travelled so far, but it must be important. For the Tribunal not to accept your people - your planet - into our federation, would be quite unlikely if they have gone to all this effort.” Sonassa tightens her grip, Donovan leaning back into her embrace as he hugs her forearms. “I’m sure - even if you are sent home now - that we will open up to your people soon enough. And when that happens, I will hand you your clothes myself.”

Donovan smiles, the last of his tears rolling down his cheek as Cheery joins the hug. The three stand for a moment until a loud, impatient thump on the workshop door reverberates through the room. “Don’t want to keep Little Miss Grumpy waiting.” He chuckles half heartedly as the other two release him. “Thank you.” He smiles, bowing slightly as he makes for the door. Sonassa nods goodbye while Cheery gives him an enthusiastic wave, eliciting another chuckle from the man. It is - however - immediately stifled as the door slides open to reveal Vuula standing just beyond the threshold, staring him down; or, as much as one with only a blank expressionless void for a face could stare someone down.

“Ready?” She all but growls before her head tilts down to his attire. She takes a step back, though with no expression to read, Donovan can’t tell if it was in shock at his new wardrobe, or just curiosity. He has no time to ask as with a more melodic “Follow.” the Guuvan leads him straight to the Tribunal’s chamber. She waits outside for him to enter then strides off before the door has a chance to slide shut.

It is night in the vista portrayed above, the coast of South America barely visible against the subtle reflection of the moon’s light playing across the ocean. Donovan gulps as he tears his eyes from the earth above to the figures arranged in the centre of the space, just as they were last time. He takes a deep breath, bows politely and walks over, depositing his old clothes behind his chair before taking his seat next to the Kagash Tribunal member once more. “We see you’ve embraced our culture openly, Mister Lane.” The N’gaa warmly comments.

Donovan takes a deep breath, all eyes on him. “I don’t know if my stay will be short or long, so I’m endeavouring to make the most of it, Tribunal.” He looks from the impressed faces of the Tribunal to the surprised faces of the council. Dr. Janvier seems ecstatic at his choice in clothing, while the Major looks annoyed as usual. The rest have the look of ‘I want one’ written on their faces, which gives Donovan the ego boost he really needs after his dip in mood moments earlier. “Veruii the Deft was kind enough to grant me a special request. Unlike the council, I was unable to bring a change of clothes.” He adds, smiling.

The Kagash sitting next to him grins wickedly, reminding him that just about the whole ship - with the possible exception of the council - knows of his activities of late, and while he might have thought the stare judgemental at first, with that knowledge behind it it began to feel more predatory. “She has excellent taste.” The Kagash growls, nodding her approval before sighing deeply. “But your rapport with the citizens of Ashya’enna is not why we have brought you here.” The Kagash sits more upright, clearing her throat. “It is the opinion of the Tribunal - and the Council - that you be granted the permission to be present at our meetings.” The power behind her words drowns out even Donovan’s heartbeat, as though said with such authority that even the universe could not deny her.

“And as such, this session will conclude with the answer to the question posed by yourself at our last meeting.” the Shylar’s voice shares the same sense of power, but with much less of their compatriot’s edge. “Why we are here.” Donovan takes a deep breath, nodding at the respect and trust being afforded him. He looks to Dr Janvier, who smiles comfortingly, though he can tell behind her eyes was worry the likes of which he had rarely seen.

The satellite style image of the Milky Way pops into view again, same as it had during their first meeting. “Reality and the Aether interact in clusters, with the majority of clusters centred around inhabited planets.” The Shylar comments, before waving at the image to zoom in. Quickly a small dot of black emerges amongst the mist of Aether. The dot grows larger until the projection displays the solar system, engulfed within an Aether-free zone. “This is what local space currently appears like.”

“The separation is not natural.” The N’gaa states, swiping to zoom in further, showing earth with a noticeable pinprick of light upon it’s surface. What surprised Donovan was not the image itself, but where the holographic display was zooming in towards. Australia. It slowed to a stop off the eastern coast, focusing on a jagged island between the mainland and New Zealand. “You are aware of this island?” Donovan shook his head, trying to run through all the Australian islands he could remember, but coming up empty. “Your people call it Ball’s Pyramid. To us it goes by a different name. The Unbreakable Door.”

The words descend upon Donovan’s mind like an avalanche. “A… door?” Possibilities suddenly spark to life inside his imagination. Was the whole island a door? A door to where? Was it locked? What was behind it? Why hide it from the Aether? What was it’s purpose?

Seeing the mental gymnastics take their toll on the man, the Kagash puts Donovan out of his misery. “It is a prison. With a single inmate.” She swipes away the photographic image of the island, or rather, reintroduces the aetheric mist. “One and a half Om’padit ago,” ‘Om’padit: Approximately 198.2 Earth years’ the tooltip helpfully interjects “A Tribunal of that time arrived upon your planet with the intention to build a prison to hold a most dangerous individual. The Can’Fra.” The display shifted again to show a being similar in appearance to a N’Gaa, except bright red, lacking scales and covered in horn-like protrusions. From it’s back sprout three sets of flaming wings, mirroring the three sets of burly arms clenching and unclenching their fists.

“Is… is that a Da’Jen?” the council erupt into a cacophony of gasps and mutterings, fearful eyes befalling the cloak wearing Tribunal member. Donovan realises that was very much the wrong thing to say, and meekly apologises. “Uh, sorry.”

The Da’Jen grunts, he can tell she’s staring daggers at him. “Once.” The tone is almost tangibly painful, but fortunately for the man, she tempers her emotions before explaining the inmate’s origins. “My people reside in the Aether. As such, when a race is uplifted, we take on their appearance as a sign of familiarity and friendship. Can’Fra hails from the Aether within the N’gaa territories.”

“What did they do?” Donovan gulps, beginning to think perhaps he didn’t want to be part of these talks after all. Ignorance - it turns out - truly was bliss.

“Affronts too numerous to count, though the toll on life was… significant.” The N’gaa sighed. “Every prison they were placed in was escaped from. No place safe, no place secure. Until the Engineering council of Anterra devised a solution.”

“Every containment failed because with a link to the Aether, Can’Fra could still draw power. And with power and time, any escape is possible.” The Kagash growls. “So we created an Aetheric Inhibitor, able to push the Aether away, leaving real space and nothing else.” Donovan’s mind clicks into gear, trying to figure out what was clearly obvious, but again the large fluffy being comes to his rescue. “The prison is within Ball’s Pyramid. A hostile, nigh inaccessible place, far enough from civilisation to not be bothered, yet barren enough to warrant no study should one be curious.”

“The door however,” The Shylar says, grinning proudly “lies within the Aether. With the two aspects of space separated, and no connection to her own realm, we thought The Unbreakable Door to be impervious.”

“But…” Da’Jen hesitantly interrupts. “It is not. Twelve locks were devised, twelve inhibitors. One a failsafe for the next. Three Sha’padit prior to now,” ‘Approximately four Earth Years’ “The first lock was broken. Soon after the second, and third.” Da’jen takes a deep breath. “One Prejit after your arrival, the tenth lock failed.”

To say Donovan’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach was an understatement worth noting. But the emotional outburst from before had numbed him to such sensation, and after gulping once, and nodding twice, he takes a very deep breath. “How long?”

Dr Janvier leans forward in her chair, a serious concern in her voice “Within the month.” Donovan’s heart leaps to his throat before plunging back down, his gag reflex barely restrained by the shock he is experiencing.

“That’s their assessment. Our boys haven’t had time to come to our own-”

“Shut it.” Bhatnagar interrupts the Major’s protest, causing the older man to go even more red in the face than usual. “They’re the experts, not ‘your boys’.”

“Council, please.” The phrasing is polite, but the tone is anything but, as the N’gaa beats her fellow Tribunal members to the punch. “This is a time requiring steady minds and strong hearts.”

“Is…” Donovan is trying to piece together some semblance of a useful question, but the fuzziness in his head is not helping. “Is there something - anything - we can do?”

The Tribunal look at each other, a mix of emotions barely present across their calm faces. But Donovan can see the worry. The Kagash speaks up. “We let the last locks fail, send in a team to distract Can’Fra and make the necessary repairs while we develop a more permanent solution.”

Donovan considers the plan, with no understanding of how the locks work, and no martial ability himself, the man shivers as a state of utter uselessness settles over him. He looks to the council, then to the Tribunal before taking a deep breath. “What can I do?”

The Major looks at Donovan as though he just spouted utter gibberish, while everyone else appears shocked at the question. The Da’Jen is the one who responds. “Your arrival here is still… being discerned. However, we know it was no individual that chose for your transfer to the Ashya’enna. The order came directly from the Ashya’enna themself.”

“RIDICULOUS!” The Major shouts contemptibly. “What would a spaceship want with a- a-”

“AS WE SAID,” The Da’Jen roars, flames billowing from under her robes until the N’gaa next to her places a hand on her knee “As. Was. Said. We are still trying to determine the exact reason. The Ashya’enna,” the ships name was spoken with purpose, reminding everyone in the room that to the Tribunal and their kin this place was more than metal and glass “chose Donovan, and when they feel it is the right time, they will inform us why.” The darkened cowl turns to face Donovan. “Though I hope it is soon, time is… in short supply.”

Donovan’s quest to find anyone willing to give him eye contact ends with him turning his head to the Brazilian coast in a thousand mile stare.

“Perhaps it is best we end our session here. There is a lot for Mister Lane to… process.” The Kagash places a large furry paw on the man’s shoulder, only partially snapping him out of the shock he’d been pushed headfirst into. “Come, I shall see you to your room.” Donovan’s eyes scanned the room one last time, the Major already striding angrily towards the exit, while the rest of the council crowd around the young engineer. Were he lucid enough to understand what was going on, he may have picked up the compliments they were giving the man on standing up to the Major. But it was Dr. Janvier’s look of concern shot Donovan’s way that finally pushed him too far.

With a few sharp intakes of air, and the crumpling of legs, Donovan fell to the floor unconscious.