FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The stars snapped from silvery streaks to jeweled dots as the HCS (High Command Starship) Solstice exited warp, switching to impulse power and easing into high orbit of a rocky, reddish world.

“Alright, gang,” Captain Advance said, leaning back and crossing his lithe legs. He gripped the armrest of his chair.

The kangaroo rat cut a lean figure of casual (if not cheeky) confidence, fur a handsome tawny tone with cinnamon streaks (offset by a contrasting white on his chest, belly, and loins, though all that was currently hidden by his uniform). His ropy, fur-lined tail (with a tufted tip) was longer than his body, and it whipped excitedly through the air behind him.

They were diving into a mystery.

Why shouldn’t this be fun?

“What are we looking at here? Where’s the distress call coming from?”

Solstice, a heavy cruiser (crew compliment: 161), was currently twelve light years (or three days full day’s travel) from Redwing Station, the HC hub for the region. It had picked up a garbled plea for help. No details. But the voice had been frantic.

The signal had been traced to the fifth planet of this star system.

Advance squinted at the alien world on the forward viewer. Barren, devoid of vegetation. Huge, sloping mountains tipped with snow and ice. No oceans or rivers to speak of, though there was erosion that offered compelling evidence of liquid water in the distant past.

From the science station, Ayla, a fetching, erudite snow rabbit, quirked a white brow and stated, “The atmosphere is unbreathable for mammalian life.”

“But there is an atmosphere?”

“Barely.”

“Maybe someone crash landed? Are we detecting any wreckage? Ion trails?” Advance asked. The kangaroo rat’s big, bare foot-paws thumped to the floor as he jumped upright. He squinted. “Go to yellow alert.” He may have been feeling heady, but Advance was still prey. He had a healthy survival instinct.

“Yellow alert,” the tactical officer, Jinx, echoed.

That meant ‘full readiness’ but not actual emergency conditions. So, no alarm klaxons sounded.

“Wreckage? Ion trails?” Advance repeated patiently.

“No wreckage. Picking up several ion trails,” Jinx replied. The monochromatic spotted skunk squinted at his readouts. “The last one is fresh. No more than two hours old.”

“How can there be traffic with no visible population?” the first officer, Wasilla, asked. A spritely Sonoma chipmunk (characterized by five black-brown stripes that ran the whole length of her body from muzzle to tail; rather like racing stripes), she stood at Advance’s side. Her scoop-like ears swiveled, wire-bush tail fluffing to attention.

“Could be a mining colony,” Ayla reasoned. The rabbit twiddled her black-tipped ears. “The planet seems to be unusually rich in mineral deposits.”

“Then where are they? The colonists?”

“Perhaps they are cloaked?”

“Logical as always, lieutenant,” Advance said. To the helm officer, Noorvik, a snow rabbit buck, he said, “Bring us a little closer, Vik. Into a lower orbit.”

“Aye, sir,” the rabbit confirmed, his paws smooth and steady on the controls. Unlike Ayla, he had a few sooty splotches on his pelt, dotting the sea of white fur. One on his left wrist. Another on his right cheek. A vestige of the distant past, when snow rabbits used to change colors with the season.

The image on the viewscreen grew wider in scope.

Ba-beep! Ba-beep!

Jinx, frowning, said, “We’re being targeted! By … by _some_thing.”

“Missiles? Lasers?” Wasilla pressed urgently.

Jinx shrugged and spread his paws. “It’s gone! I don’t get it. I swear, we were being targeted.”

“Sounds like we’ve got ourselves a ghost,” Advance said with a smile.

“Sir?” Ayla asked dubiously.

“Someone who doesn’t want to be seen,” he clarified. “Not an actual spectre! Though that would be something, wouldn’t it?”

“Indeed,” the snow rabbit said, unimpressed and going back to her readouts.

Advance chuckled, tapping Noorvik’s shoulder and saying, “Alright, that’s enough. Level us off, ensign.”

The snow rabbit nodded and did so, and Solstice remained in a stable but low orbit.

Advance slapped at his commbadge. “Engineering?”

“Antioch here,” replied the chief, a brawny yellow-bellied marmot.

“You paying attention to this, lieutenant-commander?”

“Why? There gonna be a quiz?”

The kangaroo rat laid out the evidence. “A distress call. A strange targeting scan. On a mineral-rich world.”

Antioch, always quick on his foot-paws, said, “Ayla’s right. Could be temporary structure down there. Given the lawlessness of this region of space, probably cloaked for their own safety? But the power required to hide something that big would give off some residual exhaust readings. They probably disguise it as ‘background radiation.’ But, if you know what you’re looking for … ” He went quiet as he tapped at some controls. “Yes. If we can pinpoint an unusually high concentration … then we’ve found the colony.”

“Sir, if I may?” Melita asked, raising a paw on the right side of the bridge.

Advance nodded at the fluffy, blue-grey chinchilla. Her figure rather stout and curvy.

“They obviously sent the distress call, but they don’t know who’s answering it. We haven’t stated our intentions yet.”

“Well, unto now, we’ve had no proof there’s anyone to state them to. But you’re right, Melita. Open a general channel.”

A ‘hailing frequencies’ sound echoed in the air.

“Mining colony! This is Captain Advance of the HCS Solstice. We picked up a distress call coming from this location.”

No response.

Advance looked to Wasilla, who shrugged.

The kangaroo rat continued, “We know you’re down there. We picked up ion trails leading to the surface, and we are currently zeroing in on the radiation spikes given off by your cloaking shield.”

Still nothing.

“If you require assistance, we are happy to provide it! However, you targeted our vessel? There’s no need to use your defense systems on us. Run a full scan. You’ll find we are equipped for battle, but we aren’t a warship. We come in peace.”

Finished speaking, Advance looked to Melita, tilting his head.

“They got the message, sir,” the other rodent promised.

The kangaroo rat swiveled to Jinx.

The skunk nodded. “They’re scanning us.”

“Aaaand here comes their response,” Melita said, putting the call on the main viewer.

The image of the planet was replaced by that of a female rat. Silver and white-streaked fur. Fiery red eyes. The combination was striking.

Advance perked up and stepped forward without thinking, flashed a winning, bucktoothed smile. “Hello.”

“Solstice, accept our apologies.” The rat bowed her dishy-eared head. “We didn’t mean to target you. Someone got itchy paws down here,” she said, not giving away who but looking off-camera. “Pirates have been known to use distress calls to pinpoint sources of potential loot. We were just being … cautious.”

“Understandable.” He was familiar with the ‘pirate’ element in the UT. They’d recently launched a full-scale assault on Redwing Station. They’d been repelled, fortunately. Wounded but not defeated, they’d eventually regroup to cause more havoc. “So, you do require assistance? Are you in charge down there?”

“Yes to both.” She took a deep breath. “Our mining equipment is … malfunctioning. It has severely limited our productivity. We are afraid, if unchecked, it will lead to a full system shutdown.”

Advance blinked in confusion. “Does that really qualify as an emergency?”

“It does when you are on very strict deadlines. With … with powerful clients unwilling to wait for their allotments.” Her red eyes darted, almost fearful, before looking back at the captain. “We can’t get too much further behind.” The implication of violence or retribution implied, the rat said nothing further.

“I understand,” Advance said sympathetically, voice taking on a soft tone. “But tell me? Why is your facility cloaked? This planet is in the middle of nowhere. That must require a lot of energy to maintain.”

“The ore we mine is incredibly rare … and subsequently valuable.” A pause, refusing to elaborate over an open channel. “As I said. Pirates.”

“Right, right … but why not invest in defenses? Security? And divert the energy used for the cloak into your actual operation?”

“We are an independent outfit,” the silver rat explained. “We barely had the resources to start mining, let alone defend this planet should it become widely known.”

“I see. Well!” Knowing when not to push, he clapped his paws together and backed off. Another smile. “How ‘bout I send down our chief engineer with a repair team? Our tools are top rate. We should be able to help you.”

“Thank you, captain.” The rat bowed appreciatively. “That would be acceptable. We will send you the coordinates of our landing pad. But our cloak will remain operational.”

“Understood. Oh, by the way … I never got your name?” he asked, quirking a brow.

The rat paused before saying, “Sylvie.”

“Sylvie.” A warm, bucktoothed smile so charming it could’ve brought the stars out of the sky. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Flustered, the rat wasn’t sure how to respond.

“But,” Advance added, not letting up, “it would be an even greater pleasure in person. If I accompanied my team, perhaps you could give me a tour?” A pause. “I’ve never been to a mining facility before … ”.

The rat swallowed and nodded. “Yes. Well. That would … I can arrange that.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said softly. “So! We’ll launch our shuttle in half an hour?”

“Very well.”

“Solstice out.”

The channel cut, a super-pleased Advance turned to Wasilla.

The chipmunk’s arms were crossed, and she was making a face.

“What?” the kangaroo rat defended with a blink. “We need to learn about their operations!”

“Uh-huh.” The captain’s reputation as a freewheeling playboy was hard to overlook. “I’m sure you’ll inspect their ‘equipment’ very closely.”

“Someone has to!”

“Are you bringing security?” Jinx asked, saving Advance from further grilling.

“He better,” Wasilla insisted. The captain shouldn’t be going on any un-vetted away missions. Period. But Advance didn’t always go by the book. He usually got the job done, but it stressed the chipmunk out.

“They won’t let us enter with weapons,” the kangaroo rat said.

“How do you know?”

“Would you? In their position?”

“No … ”

Advance asked Jinx, “Any of your deputies have martial arts experience?”

“Oh, I got plenty of snow rabbits who can deliver a mighty kick-punch. Send you flying halfway across the room.” The most-numerous species in the HC, snow rabbits made up almost twenty percent of Solstice’s crew complement.

“Great!” Advance decided. “Tell two of them to meet me and the engineering team in the shuttle bay.”

Jinx nodded.

“You have the bridge, commander,” the kangaroo rat told Wasilla.

“Be careful?” the chipmunk pleaded. Nothing had happened between them (yet; though the crew was taking bets), but she did care about him. He was the best captain she’d ever had. Warm, approachable, flexible. Much better than the old stickler hard ass she’d served under before being transferred to Solstice. “They’re hiding something, sir.”

“I’ll get to the bottom of it,” Advance promised with a wink, hopping to the lift to be whisked away.

Light years away on a bustling Redwing Station, Minuet was in private quarters. Staring into a crib.

The inhabitant, a very tiny snow rabbit, stared back at the sentient hologram with wide, curious eyes. Blue eyes. Just like the rest of his species.

“He likes you,” Annika said, reaching for her kit. She’d just gotten off a lengthy, long-distance conference call in the other room.

Within the last year or so, the Federation had elected and formed a new government.

They shared a border with the High Command.

Those two and the Scalie Solidarity were the ‘Big Three’ mega-governments in the quadrant. (And then there was the ‘Uncharted Territories,’ where Redwing Station was located, containing independent elements like the pirates and telepathic bat Syndicate, stretching into the unexplored, ungoverned reaches.)

The Federation’s ‘Unity First’ party, with a prey president, had begun slowly picking up the pieces from their costly civil war.

Unlike the prey-dominant High Command, the Federation had closer numbers of predator and prey, which made for wildly divergent desires and viewpoints. Their media had grown accustomed to ‘fanning the flames’ to increase engagement, which made it hard to repair rifts and soothe grudges. Not to mention the widespread ‘underground’ corruption that plagued their outer worlds. Crime rings. Kickbacks.

They had problems.

It was not going to be an easy rebuild.

As this became increasingly apparent, they’d reached out to the High Command to reestablish diplomatic relations, as well as request third-party mediation to help settle feuds and disputes between their member planets.

But the High Command brass was wary.

They remembered the aggression (and outright hostility) they’d received from the Federation’s previous administration. Did they really want to get in bed with them, only to have the pendulum swing back the other way in the next elections? Who’s to say it wouldn’t? Plus, the HC had their eyes on expansion into the UT and the growing threat from the Scalie Solidarity. The diplomatic corp was becoming spread too thin.

The gist of Annika’s conference call with her fellow diplomats was whether or not they should take matters into their own paws and offer ‘under the table’ assistance to the Federation. They simply couldn’t stand by and refuse an offer for help! No matter what the political logic was.

Pushing work aside for now, though (sometimes, she felt she was on duty all the time), Annika picked him up her kit and cradled him close to her bosom. The son of her and the station’s CO, Commander Graham, they’d settled on the name Colton.

“He likes me? How can you tell?” Minuet asked.

Though her projected ‘body’ was the same as the Ambassador and her child’s, Minuet’s mind was alien. The ancient artificial intelligence, derived from dragon technology, ran the station’s computer core. Currently performing hundreds of calculations per second, her essence was in multiple rooms at once, even if her avatar was in a singular location

“Mother’s intuition.”

“Intuition?”

“A feeling that stems from instinct.”

“I do not have ‘instinct’,” the AI said.

“You’re selling yourself short,” Annika said, walking to a chair. “We both know you do.” She sat down and laid the child in her lap while she casually removed her shirt and top. Her snowy-white breasts, mountainous with milk, jiggling free. Unembarrassed by Minuet seeing this, she asked, “Do you wish to watch?”

Minuet nodded curiously, padding closer. Watching as Colton latched to one of his mother’s nipples. “You are … feeding it?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I have seen males doing this to females on this station, but they were not kits.” In fact, she recalled, “Adak likes to suckle on mine. He is also fond of kissing and caressing them. Why is this?”

Adak was an ensign who ran stellar cartography. Minuet was quite sexually active with him. She’d specifically written a subroutine to allow her holo-avatar to translate their physical acts into sensations her program could feel. Fully, deeply feel. As if this were a real body. As if she were a real doe.

What had begun as an avenue to understand the mammalian mindset of her crew had grown increasingly … complicated.

Pleasure and intimacy, it turned out, could have a strangely addicting and imprinting quality. The more you had, the more you desired. She had not anticipated this.

Adak had, as a result, developed strong feelings for her.

Did she reciprocate them? Sometimes, Minuet was certain she did. What else to describe the sensation she got when she was with him? When she thought about him? But Adak couldn’t turn his feelings off.

She could (if she so wished). All it would take was another program adjustment.

Did that make her experience inauthentic?

Annika smiled faintly, sensing the AI’s inner turmoil. The ambassador tilted her head while Colton suckled from her, responding to Minuet’s last observation. “Yes, well … they are somewhat multi-purpose?” she said, of breasts. “And you have programmed yourself with quite the pair!”

Minuet looked down at her perfect figure, currently clad in a High Command uniform. “I felt that taking on an ideal, healthy form would help me better interact with the crew?”

Another light smile. “And it has.”

“Yes … ”

“What is on your mind?” Annika asked, getting to it, gently cradling her baby close.

Minuet heard the question while at the same time activating tractor beams to assist a cargo ship docking at upper Pylon 3. She also diverted the paths of two separate lifts in the habitat ring to avoid a potential collision. As well as processed four different orders from food processors in private quarters. Two beverages. A snack. And a full meal.

Her avatar blinked as she told the Ambassador, “I am simply wrestling with the schism between my form and function.”

“Go on,” Annika said gently.

“When I decided to identify as female, I gave it little thought. It simply seemed a better form with which to attract attention.” Which she had been desperate for at the time, after centuries of being isolated in a partitioned void. “But now it seems to be having a larger influence on me than I intended.” Her ears twiddled. “I find I cannot undo the effect.”

Minuet stared at the ambassador’s child as she said this, ultimately deciding, “I have heard the phrase ‘mind over matter’ uttered by the crew. Doctor Barrow is fond of this phrase. But I am not finding it to be entirely true. Or even remotely, for that matter.”

“Yes, well … Barrow is a telepath. Bats pride themselves on mental acuity. For the rest of us, it is much more a symbiosis,” Annika agreed. “Equal parts. Give and take.”

“How do you get used to it?”

“It is a juggling act. But if we can do it, so can you. Your mind is far more powerful than ours.”

“Yet my body is lacking compared to yours. I cannot produce one of these,” she said, nodding at Annika’s offspring.

“Do you wish to?” Annika asked, not treating it like a crazy idea. Taking the AI seriously.

A hesitation.

“I don’t mean to over-reach, Min. It just seemed a logical conclusion to what you were leading to.”

“You are not wrong.” A pause. “I am the only program of my kind known to exist. Perhaps, at one point, there were many iterations of me, but … they have all been lost. I am now alone.”

Minuet began to pace back and forth. A very organic habit she’d picked up from Adak.

“If I could create embryonic programs … they could be implanted in other computer cores. I could spread myself further. Extend myself. Like how you and the Commander have done. I would leave a legacy.”

“Families aren’t just about legacy. They’re about love.” The ambassador was diplomatic enough to not poke holes. She just asked, “Are you in love?”

“How … how would I know?”

“It’s something you feel. In your gut.”

“But—”

“You don’t have a gut. I know. Hmm.” The ambassador gently pried her kit’s muzzle from a nipple to switch him to the other breast. “It’s like a subroutine you can’t get rid of. It keeps popping up, taking up more memory than you have allotted it.”

“This seems problematic.”

“It seems that way. But it’s not.”

The computer shook her head, her plan so clear in her mind’s eye.

To ‘spawn’ herself would require utilizing the dragon tech in the science lab. It was used to create her, after all.

But if she was going to do this, she couldn’t settle. Wasn’t the point of offspring for them to be more than yourself? She didn’t want to create mere copies.

No, if she wanted to truly expand her offspring’s capabilities, she needed to fuse her programming with a male’s genetic contributions. And since Annika had insisted that families were better when born from love, that left only one option.

Adak.

He was already providing her with ‘genetic samples’ on a daily basis. She could store some, extract the DNA. Infuse it with an AI embryo. Bio-mechanical hybrid minds. Organic computer programs. An evolution of technology that had never been achieved before.

She would be the mother of it all.

Talk about a legacy!

Annika, seeing expression on Minuet’s face, said softly (without knowing the scope of her schemes), “You realize, of course, that the High Command will try to curtail you.”

“Why? I am not their property.”

Annika said, “No … but your rights, the rights of artificial beings, haven’t been established in our society. There’s no legal precedent. And they don’t know you like we do. They only view you as technology. An ‘asset’. And they may see your attempts to expand beyond your programming as a threat.”

“Them being close-minded is not going to change how I feel.”

“I’m not saying it should. I’m just warning you. To us … to me,” Annika promised, “you are important. A real person. You are my friend.”

“I have also come to view you as a friend. A mentor. In fact, I would not have had this urge to … extend myself,” she said, euphemistically, “if I had not observed your pregnancy. I wish to follow in your footsteps.”

Detaching her kit from her nipple and gently patting him on the back, Annika promised, “You flatter me, Minuet. I have never been treated as a mentor before!” Another light smile. “Whatever you decide to do, I support you. You would make a caring, devoted mother.” She locked eyes with the avatar, tone becoming more serious, “But I would suggest not providing me with details? I only know, in theory, what you wish to do. It is safer for all of us if that remains the case.”

Being mated to the commander, if this should all go wrong (though Minuet wasn’t entertaining the possibility, it very well could), Annika didn’t want to ruin Graham’s career (or hers, to boot) by being caught hiding things from him or the brass. It was best to have full deniability.

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” Minuet nodded. Then cocked her head. “I am being summoned in Ops.”

“Good luck,” Annika said warmly.

With that, the avatar shimmered out of sight.

Annika, putting her top back on, told baby Colton, “Your auntie Min is quite the character, isn’t she?”

“And what are you mining, again?” Advance asked, raising his voice to be heard above the hissing, humming machinery. He adjusted the goggles on his pointy face, watching Antioch and his team converse with workers to diagnose the mechanical problem. A few of Solstice’s engineers were already running scans.

“I haven’t told you yet,” Sylvie said smartly. The silver-streaked, red-eyed rat smiled and stopped, leaning her rump against a railing. Her ropy tail, thicker and coarser than his (not to mention entirely furless), curled around a metal post.

Coming off as reserved over the comms on the bridge, in person the rat was giving off a different vibe. Almost … eager? Not that Advance didn’t appreciate it.

“You haven’t?” the kangaroo rat drawled ‘innocently.’ A few inches shorter than her (and finding the size difference to be hot, frankly), he looked up and smiled. “I guess I lost track.”

“Does that happen often?”

“Only when something diverts my attention,” he replied smoothly, reaching a paw for one of hers. Their claws touched.

“You aren’t good at playing dumb, captain,” Sylvie stated, red eyes meeting his blues. Their warm and cool colors threatening to stir up a storm of charismatic chemistry. “Your innate curiosity … your enthusiasm. It is written on your muzzle.”

“Oh? Is that a good thing?”

Sylvie, blush indicating it was, said nothing further and resumed walking.

Advance followed, as did a snow rabbit security officer (Ensign Larsen) posing as his quietly dutiful yeoman assistant.

The trio left the main drilling area.

Soundproof bulkheads now closing out the hazards (as well as the noise), the rat took her goggles off and said quietly, to his earlier question, “We mine duranium, tritanium.”

“Common enough,” the captain noted. Most starships were built with them.

Sylvie paused and looked around before adding, almost at a whisper, “Neutronium.”

“Holy fu—” Advance blinked and caught himself mid-curse, processing what the rat was telling him. He raised a brow, his heart skipping a beat. “That’s incredibly resilient material,” he whispered back. “Not to mention extremely hard to find.” And something any government would pay very handsomely for. But Sylvie obviously knew that.

Larsen remained at a short distance, pretending to tap on a computer pad. But with his antennae-like ears, the snow rabbit overheard everything. He would keep it to himself, of course.

Sylvie continued, “We discovered it quite by accident. But that’s what makes the job worth doing. The first two alone … wouldn’t justify the cost. We’d need to be under a larger corporate umbrella. But with neutronium? We can charge much higher prices. It makes an independent operation like ours not only feasible but quite profitable.”

“But it’s only feasible if it remains a secret,” Advance reasoned out loud. “Which is why your facility is cloaked.”

She bowed her head. “If the riches of this world became widely known, there would be a ‘gold rush’ as it were. We would be forced out. Maybe at gunpoint. We vet our customers before we let them approach, and … that was working out pretty well.”

“Was?”

“Is,” she corrected half-heartedly.

Advance squinted. “So, how long do you plan on doing this? Seems dangerous.” He touched her arm out of concern. It happened before he could stop himself.

“At our current production level, in another few years I … I hope to make enough to immigrate to the High Command. Take residence on a safe planet somewhere. Start a new life.” She didn’t elaborate, but her tone of voice indicated her time in the UT had been difficult. And lonelier than she would’ve liked. “I’ve been looking for a way out for so long. Now that I have it? Now that I’m so close? I can’t stop … ”

“I’m from the High Command, you know.”

“I know.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help … ”

“You’ve been so kind already,” she whispered. “I can’t ask for more.”

“I wish you would.” Advance made his move, gently taking one her paws in his. He blinked. She was trembling. As another rodent, he knew the signs of fear. “What’s wrong?” he breathed privately, genuinely concerned. “Sylvie?” He pulled her closer. “Hey … ”

The silver rat, fighting back tears, pulled back gave the shorter rodent an urgent look as if to say ‘no, not here.’ She looked around with paranoia, as if someone were watching.

Great at improv, Advance said, voice in a completely normal tone, “I could use a bite to eat. Do you have a mess hall?”

“Yes, but … alpha shift will be having lunch soon.” The rat wiped at her blood-red eyes as she composed herself. “They will need the space. I have a food processor in my quarters?” She locked gazes with the captain.

The kangaroo rat played it outwardly cool. “What’s it programmed for?”

“Probably nothing as fancy as you’re used to on the Solstice, but … I am sure I can find something to your liking?”

Unable to keep the desire out of his voice, he murmured, “I’m sure you will.”

The rat rubbed her silver cheeks self-consciously.

Advance made a ‘lead the way’ gesture with his paw.

Larsen waited a second and followed them, black-tipped bobtail raised to attention.

Taking the point, the silver rat led them to a lift. Up two levels to the ‘surface dome,’ a shielded area dotted with personal dwellings and communal habitats, as well as an extension that led to a separately housed landing pad.

They reached Sylvie’s dwelling. She opened the door and went inside, wringing her tail in her paws. She was still nervous about something.

Advance sidled up to Larsen. Quietly, he told the buck, “Guard the door for us, ensign. We aren’t to be interrupted for any reason.”

The snow rabbit nodded.

“If anyone calls for me, take a message,” Advance said, taking the snow rabbit’s paw in his, palming over his comm badge.

“Understood, sir.” The obedient young rabbit wasn’t phased by his captain’s actions. Unattached and coming from a libidinous species, he would’ve done the same in his pelt!

Advance, giving Sylvie a reassuring smile, finally followed her inside.

They shut the door behind them.

Larsen, blowing out a breath, pocketed the captain’s badge and played with his computer pad, pretending to be interested in just about everything other than what was soon to happen out of sight.

Adak’s eyes widened. “What?”

Minuet, standing before him in the stellar cartography lab, paws primly clasped together, repeated, “I wish to procreate.”

“Oh. Um. Okay,” the young rabbit said. Mind spinning. A deep breath, leading with an easier question (the harder ones would have to be asked, but he didn’t want to shoot her down so quickly). “What brought this on?”

“Witnessing the gestation and birth of Graham and Annika’s offspring. It has made me fully cognizant of my … ” She trailed off, tilting her head. Searching for the right words.

Mortality didn’t seem right.

Though her holographic avatar was designed to look Adak’s age, was at least five hundred years older! And the dragon tech the avians had used to create her with? Well, that went back much further.

Adak waited patiently, seated in a cushioned swivel chair.

Minuet went with, “My uniqueness.”

“That is an asset,” Adak insisted.

“Perhaps. But as far as I have been able to glean from the High Command database, I am the only truly sentient AI known to currently exist. And my ‘body,’ my shell, is this station. Which has been attacked before. And will be again.” Minuet unclasped her paws and began to pace. She paused, back turned to the buck. “If the station is destroyed? I will be lost. There will be nothing left of my essence.”

“That won’t happen,” Adak insisted protectively, leaving his chair to go to her.

She looked into his eyes. “You cannot guarantee that.”

The young buck took her paws in his. He knew they weren’t real, but they felt it. She was realer than real to him. “No … I can’t.”

In fact, during the last big attack, he’d spent the duration cowering in his lab while Minuet, in spite of running hundreds of other tasks per second, distracted and calmed him down (with sex).

“I am sorry,” Adak said, bowing his head.

“I am not blaming you, Adak. It is not your failure. I am simply stating the facts.”

The buck raised his white, tall-eared head. He didn’t want to burst her bubble, but it was time for the hard questions. “Procreation is an organic process. You’re a machine. A beautiful machine!” he added quickly. “But how are you going to—"

“I will require your sperm.”

“Um … well,” he drawled. “That is organic. But what about your contribution?”

“I was created using dragon technology, which we have remnants of in the science lab,” she stated.

Adak waited for more.

“I’ve been observing Fay and Doctor Barrow’s progress in cataloguing the lot. I recognize one of the devices as a ‘cradle’.” Seeing his look of confusion, she elaborated. “An incubator for AI ‘embryos’.”

“Are there any still in it?” Adak whispered, as if they were discussing something top secret.

“No. It is empty. But with some repairs, the incubator can be safely utilized.”

“And they’re unaware of this? Fay and Barrow, I mean?”

“I have not told them. They simply believe it to be an advanced hard drive. A powerful storage device.”

Adak rubbed his forehead, walking back to his seat. He grabbed the backrest. “Why … why do you need my seed? I’m not mechanical.”

“I have observed that parents wish their offspring to be more than they are. To not merely replicate themselves, but to extend, evolve themselves.”

“Yes … ”

“I can’t merely partition parts of my program to grow the embryos. They would be nascent versions of me. Virtually identical.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“I don’t want them to share my limits.”

“You’re not as limited as you think.”

She tilted her head, indicating a disagreement. But she didn’t dwell on it. Just skipped forward to, “There is a secondary problem. There is not enough space in the station’s computer core to support multiple AI’s of my distinction. My offspring … our offspring,” she corrected, “to survive, would need to grow in foreign environments. Environments that don’t share the evolution of dragon tech this station possesses.”

She paused and took a deep breath (for effect; she didn’t actually need to breathe). “To achieve the greatest level of success, I believe they need to be augmented.”

“You want to create sentient biotech,” Adak said quietly, eyes wide. His voice lowered to a secretive quiver. “Do you realize the magnitude of this? The door you’re opening? What if this falls into the wrong paws?”

“Doors are made to be open, are they not? And creating offspring is never without risk. Yet organics rush into it. I have given this much thought, as I have detailed to you.”

“I know, but—"

“And it wouldn’t just be me. With your contribution—”

The rabbit swiped at his whiskers, nose sniffing. “Minuet … my involvement can’t end with my ‘contribution.’ You’re asking me to be a father! I mean … if we do this, we’re in it together. Equally. Or … well, in spirit. It’s not an experiment. It’s a forever commitment.”

Minuet’s eyes darted as she considered this (while performing dozens of other station tasks).

“Are you … do you really want that?”

She answered truthfully, “Yes. I have considered no one else suitable for the role.”

Adak sat back down, calming at hearing that. He meant that much to her? But he had more questions. “So, if the station can’t accommodate multiple AI’s of your size, where are you going to put our, um … our kids?”

“Starships.”

His eyes widened again. “What starships?”

“I have not decided yet, but I would prefer High Command vessels. They are allies and suitably advanced. The newer classes, like Arctic, possess or use bio-neural circuitry. It would be a perfect home for an AI brain.”

“You’re not putting one of our kids into Arctic. It’s a tactical striker! They’re in danger all the time.”

“Hmm.” Why had she not considered this? Adak was correct. “It does not have to be Arctic. Just a High Command ship with bio-neural systems. If Admiral Flint visits again, he will undoubtedly bring such a ship.”

Adak’s mind was reeling again. Unleashing biotech hybrid AI’s on the admiral’s flagship?

“However,” she said, seeing she’d overloaded him with possibilities, “we will have time to figure that out. We can incubate the embryos as long as necessary. There is no deadline.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Yes.”

“That’s … that’s better, I guess. We’d have time to really consider the next steps.” Adak blew out a breath, whispering, eyes wide, “Do you realize how much trouble we’ll get in when the High Command finds out? They’ll probably lock me up and … and who knows what they’ll do to you.”

Minuet made a face, unhappy that her efforts to calm him had failed so quickly. She said defiantly, “Ambassador Annika has already been over this with me. I am not dissuaded.”

“Annika knows?”

“Not on the level you do. I did not give her details. She just knows I may vaguely attempt … something. You are the only one who knows the specifics. It will remain between the three of us.” Seeing the look on his face, she added, “You have my word.”

Adak nodded, staring blankly at a star map.

Minuet softly padded up behind him, putting her paws on his shoulder. “Was this what you were working on? Before I entered?”

“Mm?” He looked up. “Oh. I, uh … ” He pointed, using his fingers to enlarge a holo-display of a star twelve light years away. “Yeah. I got a subspace message from Solstice. Their science officer, Ayla, sent me a high-resolution map of the star system they’re in. I was … was adding it to my database. It’s really quite fascinating. I’d like to tell you about it sometime.”

Minuet massaged his tight shoulders and neck. “You are charting a course for future explorers. I am proud of you.”

Adak closed his eyes and sighed.

Then she said, “I can’t do this without you, Adak. I need you.” She paused and added, because she knew it needed to be said (while also selfishly knowing, strategically, it would be the trigger to get him on her side), “Annika told me I couldn’t have a family purely for legacy. She insisted love was needed, and … I do love you.”

It wasn’t a lie. Or a trick. She meant it.

Didn’t she?

Well.

As much as a computer could.

Adak spun his chair around to face her, look up at her. “You do?”

“Surely, you were aware of my—"

“Oh, Min … ” He’d clearly been waiting for her to say that, because he blurted back, “I love you, too.” He grabbed at her, pulling her into his lap. “I can’t imagine being without you.”

Minuet closed her holographic eyes, her cheek kissed and sucked, his buckteeth grazing her neck. Eyes shut, she oversaw all the tasks she was performing on Redwing. When she reopened her eyes, all she saw was Adak’s face.

He was quite ‘emotional’ for a snow rabbit. But he was also young and a bit of a loner, buried in his star charts all day every day. Perhaps that was why she related to him?

They were both trapped in their respective realms. It didn’t matter why. Just that, in their isolation, they had found each other, and the combination made both of them better.

The buck asked eagerly, “Shall I give you my sample, now?”

“With organics, it often takes several attempts before success is achieved. Are you sure you’re up for such a rigorous process?” Minuet teased.

He brought her paw to the bulge in his pants. A very rabbit-y answer.

“I have sealed the doors and deactivated surveillance for the lab,” the hologram stated with a light, twinkling smile, her uniform instantly shimmering out of view. “We won’t be disturbed.”

“Get the lights,” he suggested, undoing his uniform-shirt.

She turned them off, leaving only the star maps. They illuminated the walls and ceilings with twinkling, romantic pinpoints. So many stars! On my so many worlds! Teeming with so much life!

And in a few minutes, they would begin the journey of possibly adding to it.

Advance, despite his ‘ulterior’ motives, tried to get the rat to talk about what was scaring her so much.

But Sylvie was even more eager than him!

“Captain, I haven’t—”

A kiss, instigated by her.

“Hah,” the kangaroo rat panted, eyes hooding as she felt up his loins. Enjoying her aggression, he kissed her back. “Call me … Advance … ”

They shuffled, arm in arm.

It was a one-room dwelling. Rather spartan. He didn’t see much in the way of personal possessions.

She kissed him again.

“Mm. It’s been three months … ah, ah,” she panted. Their whiskers brushed. Tails touched. “I need it. Advance, I need you,” she begged, pulling his uniform shirt off, tugging him into her bed.

Bare-chested, Advance went with her. The silver rat wriggled beneath him, pushing her pants and panties down, and—

His nose tickled.

That scent was unmistakable.

One sniff led to another and another, and he moaned. “Ohhh … ” If he hadn’t already been fully erect? He was rock hard now. “You’re in heat.” It wasn’t a question.

“Y-yes.”

“Oh,” he echoed dumbly, her pheromones so strong they usurped all his Academy training. He got his pants off in record time. Underwear, too.

“I’m the only rat in the colony,” she panted. “Then, ah … when you showed up, I … mm. Mmm!”

Advance, now naked, was fingering her hot, wet pussy. Her body language quickly went submissive, which he loved. “You know, kangaroo rats aren’t technically rats.” Nor were they mice. “We’re our own thing entirely.”

“Close enough!” Sylvie insisted, silvery, white-streaked body arching. Her claws raked through his back-fur.

He withdrew his finger from her sex, made a show of sucking it dry, and laid upon her, hugging her tightly, possessively.

Another kiss, this one wet and slippery.

Sylvie spread her legs, waiting, reeling with want.

Advance’s hips surged forth, bumping, grinding. The kiss broke, and he gasped as he eased his six-inch penis (6.25 inches, technically; a heft befitting his roguishness, as well as his rank) into the regular rat’s pouty, fertile pussy. One smooth motion. All the way. Until the kangaroo rat’s big, furry balls were snug to her loins.

“Ohh … ”

She squirmed beneath him, feeling ten kinds of incredible.

Advance needed a second to collect himself.

He’d had experience with heats, of course.

But she was a fellow rodent, and there was something special about sharing that. Her scent slapped him silly, and her soft, warm body made his cock pulse, spitting pre into her passage, his own figure vibrating like a ticking time bomb.

He couldn’t wait.

Gah!

He started humping.

Sylvie hugged Advance with arms and legs, nipping, gnawing at his neck, bucking up at him.

Advance’s hips met hers. Deep, grinding thrusts, making sure his loin-fur rubbed against her clit, fluff-tipped tail bobbing behind his undulating ass. He plowed her, his balls lewdly slapping.

The rat screeched suddenly, gasping, claws digging into him.

Advance, recognizing she was having an orgasm (already, damn!), doubled down, hoping to prolong it or trigger another. He slipped a paw between their bodies and groped her breasts, fondling, caressing, rubbing her nipples. All while his cock blurred into her with piston’s pace, squelching, driving as deep as it could.

“Hah, ah … ahh … ”

“Cum for me again, ratty … that’s it … oh, yes. Yes.” His eyes rolled back as her sex spasmed around his. “Yesss … ”

“Hah! Ahh!” she cried, enduring a second climax.

Advance plunged his cock into her, hilting, staying there. Feeling her clench and ripple around him. It was too much. Way too much! Her body wanted his seed. For the sake of life itself, it needed it.

How could he possibly deny her?

An animal sound from Sylvie.

Advance’s eyes squeezed shut. His bucktoothed maw gaped.

This is it!

“Oh … ohh … ohhhh!” the captain squeaked, each cry louder and louder. Cock jerking, jumping. Shooting bursts of seed directly into her womb. Five, six spurts? Maybe more. Being a male rodent, his balls were prodigious. He flooded her. There was so much it was seeping back out even while he remained balls deep.

“Ah, hah,” she panted, paws in his head-fur.

“Oh … ” He slumped atop her, huffing on her shoulder.

He’d had plenty of orgasms before, but this was a ‘Capital O.’

After the excitement tapered off, a minute passed.

They cuddled, noses on cheeks, paws on bellies and backs.

“Have fun?” he breathed privately, kissing her cheek. Sniffing at her some more.

The rat tried not to smile too widely as she went, “I can’t remember the last time I felt so good. That was … that was everything.”

“You deserve it.” The fog of her heat lifting, the kangaroo rat delicately added (realizing he’d just impregnated her), “Can I maybe get you something from our sickbay? If you don’t have anything. To prevent—”

“Oh. Um. Yes.” She swallowed. “Thank you. That would … that would be helpful. I d-don’t have anything handy. I ran out last month, and … and the medical supply ship won’t be back for three weeks.”

“You don’t have to explain, Sylvie. I don’t regret doing this.”

“Me, neither.” A shy pause. “You know. Maybe in another life, we—” She trailed off, feeling embarrassed for having the thought. “I know we just met. I’m sorry.”

“Shh. It’s okay. Don’t be.” He nuzzled her affectionately. “Another life,” he agreed, caressing her cheek. Bodies still flush, sex still inside hers. Looking into her red eyes. “I’m honored you’d trust me.” She seemed so lonely. She was probably planning to endure her heat without help until he showed up.

Sylvie couldn’t help but smile back.

He finally pulled out of her and rolled to her side, facing her, paw gently cupping her breasts.

The rat was okay for a moment. Then started to sniffle, paws hiding her face in embarrassment.

“What’s wrong?’ he asked. “Sylvie?”

“Just … ” The rat faltered, voice catching. She shook her head, paws coming down. Eyes shimmering. Because she was crying, they were even redder than normal. “People aren’t normally this nice to me.”

“Why?” he breathed, nosing her neck, thumb wagging over a nipple.

“An introverted, red-eyed rat?” She shrugged. “They just … they just assume I’m bad.” Her whiskers twitch. “I hear the whispers. And being the only rodent here?”

“Sylvie,” Advance breathed. “You’re not the only rodent here. I’ve got you, okay?”

“I’ve been under so much stress, lately,” she continued, the dam starting to break. “I can’t take it anymore. They … they keep trying to squeeze more out of us, and if anything happens, the colony will blame me.”

“Who? Who’s doing that?” he pressed, desperate to find out what was going on here. He was so close!

The rat hesitated with a shiver. “They’ll … they’ll find out. I couldn’t bear them hurting you, too.”

Seeing she needed to be calmed down, he held her close, their naked, furry bodies meshing together. “You’re good and beautiful,” he whispered into her ear. “Eyes and all. You understand?”

She hugged him gratefully, their whiskers brushing. It was such an intimate, delicate feeling.

“It’s okay,” he insisted, stroking her, soothing her.

Their eyes met.

Soon, their lips found each other again.

Kisses spawned kisses, and they were left panting when they maws parted.

Fingers scritching her tailbase, Advance asked, more blunt about it this time (he was ‘on the clock’), “Why are you so scared? What’s going on around here?” He paused to stroke her fur and gently insist, “Let me help you. Please. Don’t you trust me? After what we just did?”

Sylvie, finally ready, took a deep breath, and—

Outside the dwelling, Larsen, leaning against a wall, furiously stroked his cock, thumb repeatedly hitting the back ridge of his glans.

He’d heard everything the captain and Sylvie had done. Everything. Turns out the walls on these structures were not stronger than lapine ears.

He was a young buck! Fresh from the Academy. And he was supposed to just … ignore all that?

His stroking became frantic.

The snow rabbit gasped.

Splat! Splurt … spurt …

Three big shots of seed and a several smaller ones arced majestically though the air before painting the ground.

“Uh … uhh … ”

His paw stopped.

He let himself be slack jawed for a few seconds.

Then shook his head, huffed, and licked his lips. Looking around, he cleared his throat and put himself back in his pants.

Shaking himself back to a semi-logical state, blinking his blue eyes, he wiped off his paws and stood guard once more as if nothing had happened.

“They’ve been infiltrated by chameleon spies. Scalie shapeshifters,” Advance told his senior staff two hours later (sans Antioch, who was still on the surface). They were in the conference room behind Solstice’s bridge. Advance had showered and changed uniforms.

“How would she know that?” Wasilla demanded.

“Remember that customer she was so nervous about? The strict deadlines? It’s them.”

“Them? Scalies?”

“Not only that, but they’ve been scaring away the rest of their clients to drive down the price. Miners have ‘accidents.’ There are random unsolved beatings. Morale is low, and they all blame Sylvie for ‘letting it happen’. But they’re all too afraid to step out of line because they know they’re being watched.”

“Why would the Solidarity come this far for some ore? The galaxy’s full of rocks.”

Advance looked to Ayla.

“After studying the ore sample the captain brought back with him from the surface, I can say this is indeed pure neutronium.” The rabbit’s white, black-clawed paw extended to the middle of the table, where she set down a sparkly grey ‘rock.’

Everyone stared at it, wide-eyed, as if it were the stuff of legends.

“So … ” Wasilla learned forward, tail flagging. “Let me see if I got this: the Scalies want to build ships out of this stuff? There isn’t enough ore for that. Or, if there were, it wouldn’t be feasible. They’d have zero maneuverability. Let alone being cost-effective … purchasing it, transporting it vast distances … ”

“The disadvantages disappear when you lower the usage,” Ayla said.

Wasilla shook her head in confusion.

“Instead of building entire ships with it, one simply lines or reinforces the outer hull. A thin layer. This would provide just enough extra protection to be a tactical advantage without side effects. Consider it ‘neutronium armor.’ Wrapped in this … ” The rabbit picked up the piece of neutronium and turned it end over end. “Their vessels would almost certainly outlast ours in a conflict.”

“If the Scalies are planning on putting this on their entire fleet … that means they expect to need it?” Wasilla continued.

“Bastards are planning a sneak attack!” Jinx said, pounding his fist on the table.

Advance raised an open paw. “We don’t know that.”

“Then why are they ramping up their defenses?”

“People are allowed to fortify their own property,” Advance said reasonably, playing devil’s advocate.

“You don’t believe that! What are we gonna do about this, sir? We can’t let the Scalies maintain this supply route!”

“I’m also not authorized to launch a strike on the Solidarity unless I’m attacked first. Admiral Flint has made that quite clear. We’re not to be the instigators. The Scalies are trying to bait us.”

“They’re bluffing.”

“They’re cold-blooded.” He let that hang. “Do you want to test that?”

Jinx was fuming, now. Too angry to speak, his spotted tail flagged behind his chair.

Everyone around him scooted their chairs back and stood up in alarm. Melita stumbled back against the wall.

“Don’t spray, Jinx,” Advance warned calmly, remaining seated. He held out a paw. “Take a breath. We’ll figure something out.”

He breathed in. Held it. And whooshed it back out.

“Okay?”

He nodded. “Aye, sir. Sorry.” He looked to the others, sheepishly gesturing for them to sit back down. “Sorry.”

“No problem.” Advance readjusted his posture. When the staff was re-seated, he asked, “Now … what are we going to do?”

Melita suggested, “Maybe we, um … pay more than what the Scalies are paying? Take over the supply for ourselves? Fortify our fleet?”

“Admiral Flint didn’t leave me with the HC checkbook. Besides. Something tells me the Scalies wouldn’t like that. Disarming them to arm ourselves? That’s a provocation.”

“Well, they don’t need to know we’re … oh. Right. The spies.”

“They already know we’ve visited, so they’ll know it’s us that’s ousting them. Besides, we don’t have a regular supply route this far out. How would we get all this expensive material safely back to HC space?” Advance reasoned further.

“Same way they’re getting it back to the Solidarity. They’re no closer than we are,” Noorvik said. As a pilot, he was quite familiar with distances.

Melita wouldn’t let her optimism go. “Maybe they found a shortcut? A wormhole or something? Maybe we could find one, too!”

“Enough with the speculation,” Advance said. “We need a plan for what we know.”

A lot of whisker-twitching sighs.

“Wait, wait,” Wasilla said, tail fluttering excitedly. She pointed at Ayla. “Is this stuff volatile?”

“Not in its final state. During the excavation, however, it is very hard on equipment. Which is why the colony was having mechanical issues.”

‘“They’ve been having equipment malfunctions, yeah,” Wasilla said excitedly. “Let’s say those malfunctions cascade … overload the power core? Whole place is gonna blow! We get them to evacuate. A ‘pretend’ evacuation, mind. Nothing will actually be wrong. It’ll just be a ruse to get the miners in a contained, controlled space—Solstice—where we can then weed out the chameleon spies.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” Jinx said, rubbing his head to try to make sense of this.

“Hey, I’ve done my part,” the chipmunk said. “Ask Doctor Colby.”

“Ask me what? To do the impossible?” The red panda, the ship’s chief medic, sat up straighter. Her red-and-buff ring tail swished on the other side of her chair’s ‘tail-gap,’ masked face furrowing. “There’s no known method of chameleon detection.”

“To be fair, there has been very little study on the matter,” Ayla said.

Colby shot the science officer a ‘smarty-pants’ look.

“Maybe we should change that,” Advance said.

“Even if we manage to evict the Scalies, what makes you think they’d give up that easily? They’ll probably be pissed off.” Jinx, again.

“They prefer to operate vicariously,” Wasilla said, having memorized the HC profile. “They don’t do things in the open. They’re into espionage.” She counted on a paw. “They had the pirates try to steal the dragon tech from Redwing. They’re having these miners process their ore. Time and again, they have others do their dirty work. When it’s thwarted? They usually retreat and regroup."

“Usually,” Jinx stressed.

“Mm.” Advance looked to Ayla and asked, “How much of their fleet would you guess they’ve reinforced with the shipments they’ve received so far?”

“I’d estimate about five percent, if that,” the snow rabbit said. “They’ve only been taking ore for about a month.”

“They’ve only just started! Perfect time for us to nip it in the bud.”

Colby asked Advance, “Does your rat have any idea who the chameleons might be? Maybe we could narrow it down.”

“Sylvie has some ideas, but … they can just change form if they suspect we’re onto them. Are you sure there’s no way to detect them?” he asked back.

The red panda spread her black, fuzzy paws. “According to Doctor Barrow’s reports on the chameleons they found on Redwing … their scales are very light sensitive. Could play around with that?” She shrugged, then blinked. “Beacons. Medically modified. Maybe, um, black light … no. No, something strong on the UV spectrum could expose their natural iridescence? It wouldn’t make them revert to their original figure, of course. But they’d have a faint glow, even a sparkle about them, that the rest of us would lack.”

Advance smiled at the red panda. “I knew you could do it.”

Jinx, used to dealing with less-than-cooperative sorts, said, “And how do we explain giving everyone a ‘light test’?”

“Say it’s to detect radiation!” Wasilla said. “From the mechanical failures.”

Advance liked where this was going. “Good thinking, commander.” It was all coming together. “Worth a shot!”

“I’d like to run some tests on this?” the doc said.

“There’s no time. We need to move fast.”

She stared the captain down. “I guess I’ll work miracles, then.”

“You usually do,” the kangaroo rat said with a wink.

Catching this, Wasilla and Ayla exchanged a look.

Advance stood up and placed his paws on the conference table. “Let’s get to work. Dismissed.”

The staff got up and filtered out of the room.

“Captain,” Jinx said, lingering behind.

The kangaroo rat looked up at the skunk.

“You don’t need to apologize again,” he told his security chief, about the near spraying. “I under—"

“No, no. Um. It’s about … ” Jinx trailed off until the door shut. When he was sure they were alone, he asked with an eager smile, “Was she good? The rat?”

“Heh.” Advance, eyes twinkling, said boyishly, “Let’s just say … I went off like a warp core breach.”

Jinx chuckled. “Wow. Nice!”

Advance, leaving out the part about her being in heat (that was between him and her) strode past the spotted skunk to leave the room.

Jinx tucked in behind and murmured, “Now, are we talking about a breach from an external system overload or an internal containment failure?”

“Jinx … ”

Advance went back down to the surface to explain Solstice’s plan to Sylvie (in case comm channels were being hacked and monitored). He also gave the rat her emergency contraceptive.

Subsequently, they may have had sex one more time.

An intense quickie on the desk in her office.

(When Advance has asked Doctor Colby for the contraceptive in sickbay, the red panda gave the captain a smug ‘well, well, well!’ look as she made a show of loading and handing over a hypo.

To which Advance had flashed her a head-bobbing, bucktoothed smile and drawled ‘yeah, yeah, yeah’ before taking it and leaving.)

Antioch and an engineering team were still deep in the mining facility. Three of four levels below ground. They had repaired the faulty equipment. Everything was in tip-top shape.

Except now they had to pretend to blow it all up!

Advance re-entered the bridge, fresh from yet another shower. He was giving ‘squeaky clean’ a new meaning.

With a sigh, he strolled to and sat in the captain’s chair. He felt like they’d been in orbit of this planet for days! They’d only arrived this morning.

It was now late-afternoon by the ship’s chronometer, and Wasilla was already seated to his left. Not all bridges had center seats for both command-level officers. Smaller ships, like Arctic, didn’t. But Solstice was big enough to warrant it.

The chipmunk tap-a-tapped at a console beside her chair. “All departments report ready.”

“Alright. Let’s hope Antioch can fake a good reactor meltdown! Shuttlebay,” Advance said over the comm, “prepare to take in their escape pods.”

“Aye, sir,” a random snow rabbit crewman answered.

Jinx, from the back of the bridge, said, “The cloak is starting to ‘fluctuate.’ It’s buckling.”

“On screen,” Advance ordered. “Full magnification.”

The viewer showed the cloak shimmering and failing, revealing the mining facility, in a shielded ‘dome.’ The dwellings and communal spaces on the surface. The equipment below ground.

Wasilla, whiskers twitching, said, “Will Doctor Colby’s detection method work? What if we get them all up here and find no chameleons?”

“Then we’re screwed. So, let’s hope we will. Then we keep them locked up and drop them off somewhere.”

“Where?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Can we justify holding them? I mean, we technically have no jurisdiction here. We can’t say they’re breaking any laws.” The UT was very much a ‘wild west’ situation. There were no unifying governmental forces or agreements to set or maintain standards.

“We aren’t ‘holding’ them. They’ll just be our … ‘temporary guests’.” Advance inspected his white claws. A roguish smile.

Wasilla shook her head. “I keep forgetting you’re a desert critter.”

“Meaning?”

“You can be trouble.”

“If you think kangaroo rats are tough, you should meet a grasshopper mouse! They’ll put you on your ass.”

“My cute woodland tail will take your word for it,” the chipmunk said.

Beep-a-beep!

“Receiving a ‘distress call’ from the surface, sir,” Melita said from comms.

“Put it through,” he told the chinchilla.

“This is Sylvie! Solstice, do you read! Please respond … ”

“Solstice here,” Advance replied.

“We are experiencing a core meltdown! We have thirty minutes to evacuate before the facility explodes.”

“Get everyone out of there. Solstice will open its shuttlebay. We’ll get you all to safety.”

“Thank you, captain!” the rat exclaimed, cutting the channel.

“Antioch is venting all sorts of … stuff,” Jinx announced, not knowing the correct terminology. “Enough to make it look like all hell is breaking loose.”

“The first escape pods are leaving the surface.”

Advance hopped out of his chair, tufted tail whipping about. “Here we go … ”

With the entire mining colony (some sixty-odd inhabitants) in the shuttlebay with the escape pods, Doctor Colby scanned the miners one by one.

“Why are we being scanned with beacons?!” someone objected.

“Yeah!”

“Radiation from the meltdown. I can treat it as long as it’s detected in the early stages.” The red panda stopped scanning, putting her paws in the pockets of her lab coat. “Of course, it’s up to you.” She tilted her head and got a ‘try me’ look on her face. “I hear the boils are the most painful part.”

As the miners didn’t know the meltdown was fake (except for Sylvie) and the chameleons didn’t know the beacons had been rigged to (hopefully) detect them, the doctor got no further pushback.

She was thirty people in when she found the first one.

A nondescript badger. Just the type who seemed like a miner. When the light hit him, he sorta … sparkled a bit? Like he was covered in glitter.

Colby quietly locked eyes with the badger.

The badger remained calm and then suddenly lunged.

Ensign Larsen hopped between them, the barrel of a phase rifle pointed at the ‘badger’s’ chest. Set to heavy stun. “That would be a mistake,” he stated calmly, finger on the trigger.

“Thanks, ensign. I owe you one,” the red panda said with an exhale. Adrenaline pumping. She was normally a cool customer, but her throat had been half-a-second from being ripped out!

“Just doing my duty, ma’am,” Larsen said as he turned the shapeshifter over to a superior. A trio of officers escorted him to the brig while Larsen remained behind to assist.

“I don’t like being called ma’am, by the way. Makes me feel old,” Colby told the buck as she ‘light scanned’ another miner. A murmur filled the bay as conversations got louder. By now, the miners suspected something was ‘going on’ and were shouting questions at the doc. Asking for Sylvie (who was on the other side of the bay), wanting to know if the badger was sick, was it contagious, et cetera.

Larsen followed Colby dutifully. He was bad at determining ages, and it would surely be considered rude to ask, but her rank pips indicated she’d been in the service much longer than him. You didn’t get to that level fresh from the Academy.

Eventually, the rabbit started giving the red panda full-body lookovers.

Her pelt was stunning. The rich, bold colors and patterning? Unlike anything he’d ever seen. Her build was a bit stocky, curvy (she was shorter than him), but that seemed typical of her species. From what he knew, anyway. She was the first red panda he’d met in person.

He’d always heard red pandas were ‘difficult.’ Prissy, dramatic. That they were ‘wild.’ Was that true?

She caught him staring.

He raised a brow.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“Mm-hmm. I’ve served with Captain Advance long enough to know that look.”

Larsen tilted his head.

“Never mind. Thought you knew,” the red panda said.

“Knew what?”

Her turn to say, smartly, “Nothing.”

The doctor and captain were old Academy friends (from the same graduating class). This was their third ship together. When Advance had gotten the Solstice, she was the first officer he’d requested.

Advance had secured Colby a promotion (from lieutenant-commander and nurse to full commander and chief medical officer). He trusted her more than anyone on Solstice, spilling personal details to her that he wouldn’t dare let the others know.

That the kangaroo rat and red panda were also frequent ‘fuckbuddies’ wasn’t something they flaunted, but it wasn’t a ship secret, either. If you knew, you knew.

And apparently Larsen didn’t know.

Colby and Larsen were distracted by a loud commotion from the other side of the bay. One of Colby’s nurses had found a second chameleon. Posing as a raccoon.

“If not ‘ma’am, shall I call you ‘miss’?” Larsen continued once the ‘raccoon’ had been taken away.

“I don’t feel like a ‘miss’.”

“What do you feel like?”

“Like concentrating on my job, ensign?” she stressed, giving him a wide-eyed, exasperated look.

Larsen noted that her eyes were a verdant shade of green.

The red panda exhaled. Even if part of her was clearly flattered by the attention—was she blushing?— the boy needed to read the room.

But he stood there, close by, guarding her from further attacks. She caught herself staring with her peripheral vision. He had a sooty spot on his neck, almost hidden by his shirt. But not quite. It was cute.

The red panda looked fully at him and apologized. “Didn’t mean to snap. I’m just … if you want, we can talk later, okay? Mess hall or something.”

An eager nod. “I accept.”

“Wait, I—” She’d meant the invitation to be ‘polite.’ To defuse tension. She hadn’t expected him to hold her to it! Especially right away.

“Yes?” he asked.

The red panda grumbled and shook her head, moving through the line of miners.

Half down.

Half to go.

An hour later, in Advance’s ready room, the kangaroo rat, sitting on the couch with Sylvie, showed her a computer pad.

“It’s from my chief engineer,” he said. “Diagnoses the problem you had and how you can fix it if it happens again. I’ll have it sent down to you. Unfortunately, we won’t always be in the area.”

“A shame,” the rat said. She took Advance’s paw in hers. Gave it a squeeze. “Thank you. For everything.” Her red eyes bored into his blues like lasers.

“You’re most … terribly,” he murmured, their muzzles drawing closer and closer. “Welcome,” he finished, right before their lips met.

Maws suckled. Tongues touched. Buckteeth clicked together.

An impromptu hug.

Their eyes fluttered.

And then the door chimed.

(The third time wasn’t the charm for heat-fueled sexcapades.)

The captain broke the kiss, licking his lips. He released the silver rat and took a deep breath and smoothed down his uniform shirt. “Come in?”

The door swished open to reveal Colby.

The red panda couldn’t help but smile. Widely. “Excuse me. Is this cta bad time?”

“No,” Sylvie said quickly, standing up. Her ropy tail arced about. Her ears were blushing, but she seemed more excitable and energetic than she had before. A huge weight was off her shoulders. “I must return to the colony. Now that the Scalies are no longer extorting us, I have a long list of buyers who are willing to pay our full price. I need to start contacting them to draw up contracts.”

“Maybe you’ll make it to the High Command someday, after all,” Advance said, standing and escorting her to the door.

“I hope so.”

The two rodents exchanged another look—lingering, longing—before the rat parted for good.

Advance, whiskers twitching, wandered to his desk while Colby, showing her teeth, lurked behind him. The door swished shut, leaving them alone.

“She the treat who needed the injection?”

“Like it’s never happened to you?” Advance replied, more defensively than normal. “She’s very sweet.”

The red panda held up her paws. “I’m not judging. She’s pretty, too.”

“Don’t I know it … ”

“You’ll never see her again.”

Advance sighed. “Yeah.”

“You could never pull off a long-distance relationship. I know that the only ‘female’ you’re committed to is the Solstice. And ‘her’ gender is open for debate.”

“I thought you weren’t here to judge?” Advance replied tiredly, slumping into his chair.

Colby, catching herself, sat on the edge of his desk. “I’m only teasing. I just … ” She saw the look on his face. Hers softened. “Wait. You really like that rat, don’t you?”

Advance nodded quietly.

“I’m sorry.” A pause. “Would you have given her the injection? If you didn’t have to part?”

“What kind of loaded question is that?” he asked, making a scrunch-face. For a doctor, she sometimes lacked tact.

The red panda shrugged. “You’ve asked me worse!”

He didn’t ask for examples. The good doctor was known to bring receipts. So, he just said, “I’m a starship captain.”

“A damn good one,” she insisted, taking his paw. Squeezing it.

He looked up into his friend’s eyes, smiling, squeezing her back. He couldn’t be mad at her. They’d been through too much together. “You can’t do this and have a family.” Maybe you could? Some tried. But Advance didn’t have the ability to pull it off. It was okay to admit that. Not everyone could. “But I’m okay. Really.”

“You sure?” she whispered.

He nodded.

Colby squeezed her friend’s paw again before letting go. “Didn’t mean to make fun of you. I just … I was so stressed out trying to find those chameleons. Can’t believe it worked. One almost killed me, too!”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not!”

“I’d say you deserve a promotion, but you already hold the rank of commander. And we can’t have two captains on Solstice.”

“I’m sure I got some dice somewhere. We could roll for it.”

Advance chuckled.

The red panda looked around and took an audible breath. “While we’re on the subject of, uh, intimacy … ”

“Mm?”

“Do you know Ensign Larsen?”

“Yeah. Snow rabbit. He’s new. Joined right before we were reassigned to the UT. He was my security detail while I was down on the planet. He’s a good lad.”

“Right. Well.”

“Didn’t you run a physical on him?”

“One of my nurses did it,” she said. “We’ve barely talked before today. He never gets sick.” A pause. “I don’t always know how to read snow rabbits, but … I think he might like me?”

Advance smiled. “That so?”

“Maybe? I don’t know! We have a date in the Mess Hall.”

“Ooh. A date? Hot and heavy!”

“No, no. No hot and heavy.”

“With rabbits, it’s always hot, even if it’s not heavy. So, you’re getting at least one of those.”

The red panda swiped at her whiskers.

“When are you meeting him?”

The red panda rolled her eyes and planted her paws on his desktop. “Undecided. It’s an accidental date.”

“Accidental? That’s a new one. Enlighten me.”

“He was distracting me while I was scanning for chameleons, right? And so I, uh … invited him for a meal later to shut him up.”

“And he accepted?”

“I didn’t think he would! Now he wants to know what time to meet me! Even wants to know what we’re gonna have.”

“Chef is on a tear with the soups lately. Go carrot soup for him. Egg drop for you.”

“And what if he wants dessert?”

“Oh, I can guess what he’ll have for dessert,” the kangaroo rat said with a wicked grin.

“Stop it.”

Advance chuckled, leaning back in his chair. A sudden head-tilt. “Oh, hell. You’re nervous? You?”

“No!” She paced to a wall. Crossed her arms. And turned around. “I just … I don’t know.” A huff. “I gotta be, what, fifteen years older than that kid?” She was in her late 30’s. He was in his early 20’s.

“He’s an adult. A graduate of the Academy. Just like you and me. And if he doesn’t care, why should you?”

Colby didn’t have a good answer for that.

Advance left his chair and went to his friend, taking her arm and guiding her to the couch. “Look. I care about you. So, I can tell when you’re wanting permission to do something.”

“I don’t need your permission to date your junior officers,” she mumbled. “Not that I consider it a date.”

“I know you don’t.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek. “But you have it anyway.”

She blushed, unable to bite back a smile. “Alright, alright,” she said, swatting him off.

Advance chuckled again. “A young, healthy rabbit buck? Curious, eager, and virile? You might be needing an injection yourself soon.”

“I’m not in heat at the moment.”

“I know,” he said warmly. He’d helped her through her last heat (not for the first time). He knew her schedule by heart.

“Mm. Well,” she whispered. “I’m really sorry about Sylvie. You’ll bounce back. You always do.” Usually quick enough to give the crew whiplash. But she didn’t tell him that.

“Signature move of the kangaroo rat. Bounce and hop,” he said proudly, lifting a big foot-paw for show.

“Oh! I almost forgot why I came here.”

“It wasn’t to talk about sex?”

She gave his shoulder a harmless shove, telling him, trying to be serious about it, “We have three chameleons in our brig.”

“You told me that.”

“I didn’t finish! Now, the detection method I came up with … it did work. I’d suggest we relay the information to both Redwing and the wider High Command. However, I’d also caution them that the Scalies will most likely find a workaround. Inject the chameleons with something that stops them glowing under the light. Whatever. May take them some time to circumvent, but … they will. You can be sure of that. Espionage is too important to their strategy.”

“A momentary defense is better than nothing right now. I’ll have comms send out an HC bulletin.”

They both rose from the couch, slowly making their way toward the door and entering the bridge (no familiar faces, as there had just been a recent change to night shift). Walking into a corner lift, she said, “Sickbay.”

Advance said, “C-Deck.” That’s where his quarters were.

The lift hummed and whisked them through the ship.

“What are we going to do with the chameleons, exactly?” she demanded. “They may be enemies, but I won’t allow any mistreatment to take place.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, doc. We’ll drop them off as the next outpost we pass. Their friends can pick them up. But now they know that we know that they know about the, uh … the ore.” He yawned. Damn, he was tired. “They should leave the colony alone. Shouldn’t have to worry about them having neutronium armor, either.”

“Right. Well. Sometimes, it’s about getting lucky, isn’t it? Being in the right place at the right time? If we hadn’t been in range of that distress call, we never would’ve thwarted the Scalie fleet improvements and you never would’ve rocked Sylvie’s universe.”

Advance smiled. “When you put it like that, it’s been a great day.”

“Damn straight.”

The lift stopped. C-Deck first.

“Enjoy your date,” the captain said, kissing her on the cheek before hopping out.

She pointed at him and pleaded, “Rest. Please! You need it.”

“I know. I will. Night, pandy.”

“Nighty-night, roo,” she replied in a familiar, teasy tone.

Left alone in the lift, it started taking her to sickbay. She needed to finish up a few projects, sign off on a few reports before going off duty.

She was hungry, though.

After a hesitation and a nervous, toothy smile, she slapped her badge.

“Doctor Colby to Ensign Larsen.”

About ten seconds passed. “Larsen here.”

“Listen. Um. You up for dinner in the mess hall in twenty—”

“Yes.”

The red panda blushed at how eager he sounded. “Wow. Okay.” She shrugged, though he couldn’t see it. “See you there,” she said before cutting the channel.

Well.

An excited, tail-swishing smile.

Could be fun?

Like she’d said: sometimes, it was about getting lucky.

Maybe it was her turn tonight.