Season Five [Part Five]

- 17 -

Stephanie awoke with the girl embracing her. The Captain lay motionless for a time, enjoying the serenity. In a few short days The Queentia Iactura would complete its return journey to the heart of Imperial space, until then Captain DuHart could keep her own schedule. Stephanie held her sleeping lover and took a deep breath.

The moment she swept the duvet off of herself, DuHart knew she would be on duty again. She felt a bizarre tension as she delayed the inevitable. DuHart sat on the edge of the mattress before standing up, watching the girl sleep. Stephanie wondered how something so perfect could sleep so soundly, sharing a bed with what They had made.

The Captain eventually left their bed behind, walking into the en-suite to shower and begin to prepare for her day. She caught sight of herself in the mirror. For a fleeting instant Stephanie felt her habitual embarrassment, before she looked at herself a little more closely than she usually did.

Slowly Stephanie turned on her heel to examine herself closer. Her short hair was a mess, the linen gown she had worn to bed was wrinkled, the girl's underwear was still bunched up around one of DuHart's thighs. Stephanie smoothed down her fur, most of her left side was standing on end. Stephanie looked the picture of a whore, decorum thrown to the wind. Stephanie couldn't help but feel a twinge of lust at her own image, it surprised her.

She didn't notice, but while she showered Stephanie wore a tiny confident smile. DuHart's tiny smile did not leave her when she arrived on her bridge, but it did when she received Cael Theo's report.

"Ceremony, Ma'am. Your presence has been requested, in Achenar." The Tactical Officer explained.

"The Navy wishes to waste energy and credits on pompe, to what unfortunate soul are they bequeathing this honor?" DuHart held wastefulness in disdain.

"Hm. You, Sir." Cael answered, after clearing his throat.

"Oh dear." Stephanie said slowly, then shook her head. "How quickly can we expect to arrive in Achenar?"

"Four days, Ma'am. The ceremony is in nine." Tactical Officer Theo answered.

"Very well." The Captain said.

The four days of travel would prove uneventful. Once in Achenar, The Queentia Iactura placed itself in orbit of the moon Conversion. Captain DuHart allowed her underlings the authority to organize matters, her approach was not unheard of nor unwelcome but rare nonetheless. Many Captains of the Imperial Navy took to some degree of micromanagement, but DuHart's time within the Federation had taught her a more tacit approach to Command. DuHart's officers all knew what she expected of them, and were uninterested in learning the price of failure.

Shore leave was on offer, but resupply was also necessary. The clerical staff onboard Stephanie's ship were putting several thousand man-hours of work into keeping the timetables as tight as possible. DuHart had no complaints about this. The ceremony she had been called to on the other hand, warranted several. Stephanie would not vocalize her complaints though.

"You are going to attend?" The girl asked suddenly, not slowing her fingers as she spoke.

"Yes, I must." Stephanie hadn't expected the girl to mention the ceremony, as Stephanie herself had avoided the subject.

"What were you planning to wear?" The girl asked conversationally, working the massage further down DuHart's shoulders.

"My uniform." Stephanie answered into the pillow.

"No, on your face." The girl giggled and began to apply pressure to Stephanie's lower back.

"I am not sure what you mean." DuHart admitted.

"You haven't picked a masque yet?" Said the girl, incredulously.

"This party requires a disguise?" Stephanie pushed herself off of the bed to ask the girl more directly.

"It's a Masquerade Ball Stephanie, that's the point." Stephanie's Pallaca answered with a bemused smile.

"Oh dear." DuHart replied slowly, as she lowered herself back down onto the pillow.

"I can make another, for you." The girl reassured DuHart. "What would you like to be?"

"Not expected to take part in any of this." Stephanie's answer was muffled and sullen.

"You worry too much." The girl said as she finished the massage with a quick combing of Stephanie's fur with her fingernails. "I shall return in a moment and we will make a masque for you."

Stephanie kept her face buried in the pillow as the girl scurried to the kitchen. She retrieved the tray containing her supplies from it's cupboard and returned to their bedroom. The girl placed the tray on the bed and sat next to it. There was a spool of gold wire and a few small hand tools.

"Turn over, Stephanie. I need to see your face." The girl said, DuHart complied. "Any thoughts on what you want to be yet?"

Stephanie shrugged slightly as the girl began to cut small pieces of the wire to length. The Concubine sucked her teeth with a cheeky smile on her face, and decided to go with a filigree style, to offset the lack of theme. After allowing a significant portion of the framework to be constructed onto her face, Stephanie started to feel curiosity about the girl's work.

"What sort of masque are you going to wear?" DuHart asked Her Pallaca.

"This." The girl momentarily paused in her work to take up her own masque from the tray and don it. "What do you think?"

The girl's masque was mostly oval, but for where it allowed for her nose, and the two triangular protuberances from the top of it's silhouette. Black fabric affixed to a framework of gold. The tip of her nose marked out with a slightly triangular spiral of the wire, about the size of your fingertip. On either cheek, three golden offshoots sprung out from the framework. Each of the six whiskers bent into a unique shape. The holes in the masque for her eyes were cut thin and triangular, with spiraled strands coming off the outside corners.

"It's very well made." Stephanie wasn't entirely sure what do feel about her lover becoming feline. "I have to say, I'm torn about this whole thing."

"Between what?" The girl wondered.

"I haven't a clue." DuHart admitted, with a sigh.

"You're just nervous." The girl smiled. "Here, look."

She pulled the beginnings of the masque from Stephanie's face and held it up for her to inspect. The girl's efforts were focused on decorative filigree with the gold wire. Stephanie's masque covered her forehead, and the left side of her face, but allowed room around her nose and whiskers. The girl had originally intended to stretch some fabric across the framework, like her own masque, but had decided not to. Instead she intended to twist spirals of wire onto Stephanie's mask to fill the blank areas, thus allowing the colors of DuHart’s fur to show through. Just then, the girl began to make tiny loops of the filament, and chain them together so as to hang from the masque under the right eye.

"These are not the first masques you've made, are they?" Stephanie asked, in wonderment at the girl's art.

"They are, but I've played with wire since I was little." The girl waved her hand, and the pliers in it as she spoke. "Just little crafts and things, for fun. But this is well within my abilities."

"I can see that." Stephanie smiled at the girl. "I am feeling, less nervous now. I think."

“I will have to make a rigid loop to sit on top of your head.” The girl explained her design. “Without any fabric to tie, I may have to make something to balance it from the back as well.”

“This masque shan’t hide my identity very well.” Stephanie mused.

“A Masquerade is as much a state of mind, as it is something you wear.” Stephanie’s Pallaca said, as she constructed Stephanie’s masque.

“This is not going to be the first Masquerade Ball you will have attended, is it?” DuHart asked her lover.

“Far from it.” The girl held her work up to DuHart’s face for a moment, before returning it to her lap to continue her work on it. “Though, before meeting you I never had the opportunity to design my own Masque.”

“You are good at it, I suspect you enjoy this craft.” Stephanie noted.

“It is much more enjoyable, when I decide.” The Concubine admitted.

“Will you be wearing your new gown?” The Captain realized she most likely would.

“This Ball shall be a perfect opportunity to debut my new finest outfit.” The girl cooed.

“I am… Excited to see you wearing it.” Stephanie’s excitement was not fueled by the girls Masque. But DuHart’s intractable thoughts towards the symbology of it were not dampening her feelings.

“I’m excited to be seen alongside you.” The girl replied.

“My trepidation about this Ball is waning. Thank you.” Stephanie said to the girl, smiling.

“Your worry is a double edged sword Stephanie.” The Concubine admitted.

“You know me so well.” DuHart chuckled. “But as per a social function, I think I needn’t be keeping my worry so well sharpened.”

“I should hope not.” The girl held up the nearly complete masque. “I think this will go very well, with your uniform.”

“It will.” Stephanie sat up, and gave the girl a small kiss. “It has been crafted by expert hands, after all.”

- 18 -

The pair arrived at the Ball fashionably late, hand in hand. Disguised revelers were milling about, dancing and mingling, crowding. Stephanie sought an unoccupied table an acceptable distance away from any thoroughfares and sat down eagerly. The girl sat beside her, fidgeting and glancing towards the dance floor.

“Would you like to dance?” Stephanie asked.

“Of course.” The girl replied eagerly.

“I would rather not.” Stephanie admitted quietly.

“You should enjoy yourself, a little.” The girl scoffed.

“This is me enjoying myself, at something like this.” DuHart gestured alongside her explanation. “Perhaps you should find a more willing dance partner?”

“You would’t be uncomfortable with that?” The girl asked.

“No.” Stephanie lied. “Please, don’t allow me to keep you from enjoying yourself.” She added a truth.

“Alright.” The girl pecked Stephanie’s uncovered cheek with a kiss. “I shall find you again after a song or two.”

The Captain waved over one of the waitstaff and ordered a whiskey on ice, a nostalgic drink for DuHart. Her husband had been fond of that drink, his night-cap. DuHart received a chilled tumbler containing a few fingers of Eranin Pearl. She thanked the waiter, but was slightly dismayed at her beverage. Arrow’s drink had always contained a single cube of frozen water, and his whiskey was always aged brown. Stephanie found the beverage to be relatively flavorless at that temperature, and thankfully smooth.

“May I intrude, My Lady?” Someone approached DuHart’s right side and asked.

“If you must.” Stephanie smelled his cologne. “Are you enjoying the party Cael?”

“Who is Cael?” Cael asked jovially. “I am but a Corvid in search of company.”

Stephanie turned to raise an eyebrow at her Tactical Officer. His masque was adorned with feathers, blue and white. His nose hidden by the elongated ebon beak.

“You may sit, Sir.” DuHart allowed, smiling slightly and rolling her eyes.

“Thank you, My Lady.” He sat across the small table from her. “May I ask a daring question?”

“You just have, but I will allow another.” DuHart had little patience for such a farce, but would indulge Cael.

“How could a Lady so beautiful, be left so sullenly alone, tonight?” The Blue-Jay asked, concern in his voice.

“By choice, of course.” Stephanie answered.

“Would a Lady chose, to dance?” A sly question from a sly bird.

“With the likes of a Lord, no.” Stephanie finished her drink. “But I shall have a dance, with you.”

He laughed and stood up, offering his hand. DuHart followed him, but waited until they arrived at the Dance-floor to grip his fingers. The Jay made an attempt to lead the waltz, Captain DuHart would not have allowed that. But Stephanie knew that Captain DuHart would most likely never have been persuaded to dance, so she chose to follow his direction.

The Lady and the Jay twirled to the music for a few minutes. A black cat, dancing with a Harlequin, may have taken note, but such matters mattered not at the Masquerade. Besides, the cat may have smiled, when she did or did not notice.

“I presume that a Lady does not regret changing her mind?” The Blue-Jay asked as they slowly took steps to the song.

“You are a presumptuous bird.” DuHart accused amicably.

“Daring. Corvids such as I, are Daring, My Lady.” He answered putting a husky air on his voice

“I thought Corvids were Cunning?” Stephanie offered a stirring question.

“The Cunning Corvids are.” He looked away for a moment as his joke made her laugh, then back with a smile. “My plumage is blue. Cunning is for black birds.”

“Aye, that it is.” Stephanie glanced about the dance floor. Many Imperial lords were there, clad in masques and tuxedos. “Why might a Daring Jay have come to this Lady, tonight?”

“A lonesome Lady would be a dare on any evening.” The Blue-Bird startled and excited DuHart by spinning her on her toes before his reply. “To a Daring Jay, you may as well have been calling.”

Stephanie laughed, Cael made a similar sound. The Blue-Jay turned his partner, and began the waltz demanded by the oncoming song.The lady danced with him for another few minutes. They laughed still, but they spoke less.

Stephanie indulged Cael in his game, Theo knew that was all it was to her but he enjoyed the time nonetheless. A black cat danced amongst the crowd, happy that a Jay had listened to her advice, and dared.

As the song ended, a broad shouldered Striped Horse stepped up the the Jay and his Lady. He wore a white uniform complete with a blue tailed jacket, a Captain’s uniform the same as DuHart. Such matters were meant not to matter at the Masquerade, but he did not need to speak, only to hold his hand beside the dancing pair. The Jay did not dare that much.

“My, Lady. May I have this dance?” The Horse asked DuHart, taking hold of her recently relinquished hand, leaning down to kiss the back of it.

She shot an apologetic look to Cael, but the Jay had already flown. Gone amongst the bustle of revelers. The contract of polite society put Stephanie on the back-foot.

“Yes.” She replied reluctantly but without hesitation.

The song began, and he took the lead with furor. Stephanie knew the man, and was planning not to complete their dance.

“I am beset, such a fine lady. A vision.” He said.

Stephanie tasted his sarcasm, his disdain. She lowered her eyelids at her dance partner, suspiciously.

“Though, I think your outfit may be in poor taste, My Lady.” The Striped Horse declared.

“If you would like to say something to me, then speak.” DuHart shifted her footing, for but a moment fighting him for the lead of their dance.

“Oh, but I am a simple Animal, and you are only a Lady. You aren’t suggesting we shed out masques early, are you?” The Striped Horse asked amicably, dangerously.

“No.” Stephanie let go of his hand and stepped away from him, upsetting his footing and drawing the attention of a few dancers nearby. “But this dance is over, Horse.”

“So be it, Bitch.” He replied. “So long as we keep our masks on, you are in disguise and that is the end of it.”

Stephanie paused, half turned away from him. She could accept that, after all tonight she was only a Lady. But instead, The Captain entrusted the craft-work of her lover to the safety of a nearby table. She rested her wrist on the pommel of the sword on her hip as she faced the Horse again.

“What do you want to say to me, about my uniform.” DuHart knew what he wanted to say, but he must say it for the others first.

“It looks like a costume, on you.” He said, before removing his own masque, letting it fall to his feet. “Your kind shouldn’t be wearing a uniform like that.”

“You will have to be more specific, Captain Hooker. I befall several different ‘Kinds’ and I cannot guess which of them you have decided to be offended by.” DuHart replied impatiently.

“Is your jacket blue on both sides?” He quipped, widening his stance.

“I see.” Captain DuHart’s stance winded as well.

“You should answer me.” Captain Hooker encouraged.

“Why? What could I say that might convince you. My coat has been turned and I will never ease your mind Tiberius.” DuHart spat her reply.

“An admission of guilt!” He declared triumphantly.

“Ha!” DuHart failed to hold her laugh. “What does it say of your loyalty, that you cannot accept I would join The Empire in my heart?”

“I would not see my Empire sullied by such filth.” Captain Hooker drew his sword.

The few who remained on the dance-floor cleared it. The band nearly faltered in their play, but only to increase their tempo slightly. Tiberius brandished his weapon, a plain naval saber. He pointed it at DuHart and held his off hand outward to his side.

“A duel?” The Captain asked, her voice very quiet.

“You have no honor, and I will demonstrate that.” Tiberius Hooker glared at DuHart as he spoke.

“Very well Tiberius.” Stephanie smiled and drew her own sword. “This is a dance I will happily engage, you in.”

Captain DuHart’s sword was also plain, but straight and edged on both sides. They rang against each-other as Tiberius’ first testing strike was parried. He twisted his wrist and his toes to slice at DuHart’s ankles, but she stepped away too quickly.

He gave her an opening but she did not capitalize on it, the strike that best took advantage would have been messy and had no place among polite company. DuHart parried another swing, Hooker was showing off. A frown made it to Stephanie’s lips. He copied his last attack, DuHart did not even bother blocking it.

She stepped inside his swing  and grasped his wrist with her off hand. with a quick motion of her arm, DuHart cut into his jacket with only the tip of her sword. Leaving a hole through it, and a tear in his ego. Stephanie relinquished his wrist and stepped back from him, half expecting the duel to be over there.

Determined to at least match her insult, Tiberius launched another strike. Stephanie parried that as well. He altered course and brought up a defensive stance, hoping to draw DuHart into folly. She thrust at him to test his defenses, he stepped backwards.

Squinting at her opponent, DuHart thrust at him again, and again he stepped out of reach. Frustrated, Stephanie thrust a third time, but Captain Hooker dodged to the side. With a flourish he swiped Stephanie across her cheek with the tip of his saber.

The pain was hot, but burned less painfully than her mistake. A trickle of blood matted the fur on her jawline. He lowered his sword and dropped his stance. Tiberius thought his victory was claimed.

Duels are rarer in the Federation, but are not taken as sport. Captain DuHart Put her sword into her other hand and charged her opponent. He barely realized he was still in the fight in time. Their weapons clashed again, then once more. Stephanie disarmed him with a twist of her blade and the grip of her free hand on his wrist. She pierced his arm with her claws to break his grip.

“I am disarmed, the duel is over.” His voice was caught between demanding and bargaining.

DuHart’s sword clattered to the ground. Her claws were retracted from his wrist and drawn across his face. Captain Hooker fell to his knees, clutching his torn cheek. DuHart put the arch of her foot across the back of his neck and ripped his jacket from collar to hem. Only then, did The Captain stow her fingernails and take her blade up from the ground to sheath it.

She retrieved her masque, marched back to the table she had sat at before, and replaced herself there. The Ball continued, once Captain Hooker was seen to. In only a few short hours the ceremony began. DuHart accepted her accolades without much to say, though several others attending the event made speeches of some sort.

- 19 -

A black cat had abandoned the party before swords were drawn. A kindly Harlequin escorted her to a cart, and saw her back to The Queentia Iactura onboard a shuttle. They talked of recipes to ease her mind, and the girl thanked her friend at the threshold of the first deck. Stephanie’s Pallaca would wait alone for some time.

Upon The Captain’s return, the girl met her in the foyer. DuHart was furious, her Pallaca stopped short of her. The Captain stormed past the girl to the kitchen, to put away an expensive bottle she had been gifted.

The girl found Stephanie sitting at the kitchen table, her hands balled into fists on top of it. Her breathing was steady, but not calm. The girl approached hesitantly.

“What is the matter?” Stephanie’s Pallaca asked her.

“I have been recognized for my actions.” She replied.

“This has you so upset?” The girl did not understand.

“I am not comfortable with this recognition.” DuHart tried to explain.

“You’ve done good in your actions.” She tried to reassure DuHart.

“Not you too.” Stephanie lamented.

The girl sat across from DuHart, in her chair at the table. She looked at her lover, trying to figure out what she’d done wrong. She held her hands out for Stephanie, but The Captain wouldn’t accept.

“Would you have me hate you?” The Concubine asked quietly.

“I… Well, no. No.” DuHart answered, unsure.

“I won’t.” The girl put her hands onto the table and leaned over to DuHart. “Do you want me to tell you that you scare me? That I have never before had so little clue where I am going in life, now that I am with you?”

“Is that, true?” DuHart slowly looked up at the girl.

“Of course it’s true Stephanie! But none of that matters, you are missing the bigger picture.” The girl told her lover.

“I don’t-” Stephanie was cut off by her Pallaca

“I choose to be with you. The Navy chooses to have you.” The girl shook her head. “You don’t have to be the only person who doesn’t believe in you, that’s absurd.”

“This isn’t about that!” DuHart stood up, turning away.

“Then what is it?” The girl smacked her palms onto the kitchen table and sobbed. “Talk to me!”

Stephanie turned to face her lover, the girl had tears streaming down her cheeks. She was shaking and glaring at DuHart, though she turned away as soon as Stephanie looked back at her. DuHart was angry to see the girl cry, she wanted to shout. But she stopped herself, the girl did not deserve that, nor was Stephanie’s anger meant for her.

“No, no. Don’t cry, no. I’m sorry.” DuHart held out one hand, and the other over her own mouth.

“Damnit Stephanie, tell me what is going on.” The flow of the girl’s tears did not slow.

“The Navy would have me do what I am best at.” In her haste to answer the girl, DuHart failed to phase it in any way other than truthfully. Stephanie shuddered, the girl tensed.

“Oh.” The girl stood and wiped her anguished tears. “I’m sorry, Stephanie.”

“Don’t apologize to me.” DuHart fought tears of her own.

The girl reached out and wrapped her arms around DuHart. The Captain wanted to stop her, but she did not. DuHart continued to refuse to cry, but the girl had no compunction.

“I will endure.” The Captain declared, putting her hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“I know you will.” The girl said in solidarity, through her tears. “You are too good for this.”

“I was not too good for it before.” Stephanie said.

“You didn’t yet know, but you were.” The girl wiped her face. “So few Captains would grieve those caught in the crossfire, or lament the cost of their duties. You are a better person than you know.”

“Would a good person have accepted that duel so willingly?” DuHart spoke very quietly.

“He shouldn’t have died over words, but he made his choice.” The girl’s reply was not as quiet, nor hesitant.

“He lives.” Stephanie didn’t mention what had become of his face.

“Then, my point is made.” The girl took Stephanie’s hands. “You will worry yourself to death, you would crush yourself with pressure. If I am the only thing in your life that relaxes you, then I have been neglecting my duties.”

Stephanie produced a relieved laugh, and a tear came from her eye, the girl made to wipe it. Her fingers felt the cut through DuHart’s fur, though the thin wound was already mostly healed. The girl traced it again but she made no mention of it. She instead made to kiss her lover, Stephanie had to bend down slightly to meet her.

Another tear rolled down Stephanie’s cheek as she wrapped her tongue around the girl’s. Stephanie felt her lover’s hands unclasp her belt, heard her sword clatter to the floor. The girl’s hands pulled Stephanie’s uniform jacket off and it too was discarded. With one hand Stephanie lifted her lover off her feet, with the other she cleared the small kitchen table.

The few items of cutlery were scattered and quickly replaced with DuHart’s Pallaca. The Captain stepped back from her momentarily. Stephanie pulled the concealed carry harness off and let it fall beside her jacket, then she began to unclasp her pants. The girl reached out to pull on the top button of Stephanie's shirt, as her lover stepped closer she began to undo the buttons.

They continued to kiss as Stephanie was disrobed fully. Once nude, DuHart pulled her tongue from the girl’s mouth and looked at her. The girl’s eyes darted across DuHart’s body excitedly, while DuHart’s gaze remained locked on her lover’s face. Stephanie leaned in and kissed the girl on her neck, then again just above her collarbone. She let out a tiny gasp as Stephanie slowly drew her whiskers down towards what little cleavage the girl showed.

Suddenly Stephanie put her hands to the girl’s breasts, then slid her fingers along the girl’s body, past her hips and down her legs. DuHart pulled up the hem of her lover’s dress and slipped it over her own head.

The girl felt Stephanie caress her midriff with her lips, as her fingernails slipped down under the waistband of her panties. She let out a breathy sound as Stephanie tore through the fabric, then a moan as DuHart’s teeth made fleeting and gentle contact near her navel.

The girl watched Stephanie’s tail slowly roll through the air, from left to right. Remaining mostly upright, as was Stephanie’s bum as she bent down. The girl couldn’t help but let her eyes roll back slightly as Stephanie’s tongue slipped inside. DuHart was eager, and the girl found her lover’s enthusiasm very enticing.

The girl spread her knees slightly as Stephanie’s hands gripped her hips below the dress. Then DuHart’s barbed tongue began its work in earnest. Careful not to let them stand out too far, Stephanie bent her tongue, and twisted it inside the girl. Her Pallaca let out a moan, head rolling around, hands grasping shakily at DuHart’s hair through the dress.

Stephanie did not slow down, she pressed herself into the girl, forcing her tongue as deep as she could. The girl drew air through her teeth as the first orgasm hit her. Without allowing her lover time, Stephanie slid one of her hands up along the girl’s body, under her dress. Stephanie pushed her lover down to the tabletop and pinched her left nipple between her forefinger and thumb. She gripped the girl’s thigh tightly in her other hand. Stephanie began to thrust her tongue into the girl with slow movements of her head and neck.

The girl’s free leg spasmed, her hands moved to her own face as she tried to stifle her moaning. Stephanie slowly pulled her tongue free from the girl, and over her clitoris. DuHart’s made sure to carefully present the barbs as she did. The girl tried to lift herself, Stephanie kept her prostrate with one hand, but it took an effort. As the girl lay back down trembling, Stephanie lowered herself onto the floor in front of her, sitting on her own legs.

Stephanie placed her hands into her lap and looked expectantly up at her lover, still laying on the table. Slowly, the girl sat up and saw Stephanie, waiting for her patiently. The girl let herself off the table and stood, she noticed that Stephanie’s truncated tail was making occasional twitching motions.

The girl stepped forward and placed a hand on the top of DuHart’s head. Stephanie's gaze darted from peering up into the girl’s eyes, down to her crotch and back. The girl pulled just slightly on Stephanie’s head, only a suggestion.

Stephanie reached up and grasped the girl by her waist. Standing, she lifted her lover into the air and over her own head. The girl closed her eyes as she was held aloft and penetrated by her lover’s tongue again. Her hands scrabbled towards her lover’s fingers, her feet fumbling for unnecessary purchase.

Then Stephanie began to bounce her lover up and down, rolling her tongue left and right inside as she did. The girl could do no more than let out ecstatic cries. Stephanie made the girl ride her until she was quivering and her long hair was matted. Only then did Stephanie claim one more, final orgasm from her, and put the girl down.

DuHart was exhausted, and shortly after sitting her lover back on the kitchen table, she felt it. Stephanie slid to the floor and sat on it, her feet outstretched. The girl sat on the table, still gasping with trembling lips and curled toes. Stephanie’s mind was still awash with the girl, her pleasure still in DuHart’s nose, still giving rise to small trembles when Stephanie drew breath.

“Captain DuHart, this is Lieutenant Briggs. We have just been forwarded a report. I think you may wish to review it personally, Sir.” The acting Captain’s voice cut into their quarters through the intercom.

Allowing herself only an instant of shock to be expressed upon her face, Captain DuHart stood up and marched to the wall unit. DuHart attacked the button on it with her finger, then spoke.

“lieutenant Briggs, this interruption had best be important.” DuHart glanced slyly at the girl, still sitting on the kitchen table. “I am in the middle of dinner.”

“Apologies, Sir.” The acting Captain was nervous. “A Federal Capital ship has been sighted less than thirty light years away.”

“The pressing of borders is beyond the purview of my initiative, Lieutenant. Unless this report came alongside orders, then I am unsure why you thought this was important.” DuHart told him.

“Ah, Thirty light-years Rim-wards, Sir.” Briggs added.

“Prepare to leave orbit.” The Captain ordered.

- 20 -

The FNS Hellion, DuHart did not know it’s Captain. By sending escort craft out to systems ahead of The Queentia Iactura, Stephanie had already learned something about her prey. She had expected to be put head-on with the Federal vessel, but they had been seen again, The Hellion was retreating further from the heart of Empire territory.

Captain DuHart was prepared to give chase. Once she confirmed the Farragut was putting more space between it and anything it may threaten, Stephanie became willing to investigate its path. The Federals wouldn’t have dared trying to resupply from any Port allied against them. Stephanie knew all too well. DuHart spotted an industrialized system within what seemed to be the route. The Majestic was dropped from Hyperspace into orbit of a gas-giant. The orbit was shared by two small settlements.

That system had never been visited by a Capital vessel before, so two in as many weeks was worth celebrating. The economy there had never been half as strong. Stephanie learned through her staff’s efforts that The Hellion has taken as large a supply of foodstuffs and fuel as possible before departing. They were expecting a long deployment, and little support.

Stephanie noted something more, or rather the lack of something. Few to no locals had any tales to share of meeting any Marines. Either The Hellion was being run as a tight operation, or their mission did not require a complement of soldiers. Regardless, DuHart considered this information worrying. To be fair, DuHart would have been very unlikely to be relieved by learning anything about the Federal vessel.

Five light years later, DuHart and her prey met. The Captain had several clues, but no idea how they learned they were being followed. The Queentia Iactura had parked in a Five Astronomical-Unit orbit of a brown dwarf to decompress the Hyperspace engines. when DuHart’s Communications Officer broke the monotony on the bridge.

“Captain, we are detecting a Hyperspace signature.” He double checked his readout. “It is large and closing.”

“Battle stations.” Captain DuHart ordered as the stood up from her chair. “Begin a Starboard turn.”

The FNS Hellion ripped itself back into real-space, throwing static discharge kilometers through space. They had tried to pull alongside the Majestic, to broadside it. But DuHart was familiar with the Federation’s tactics. They had put themselves opposite the local star, so as to theoretically limit jump vectors for their target. Not the most effective tactic, but one ingrained through guide-books nonetheless. Stephanie had put the brown dwarf behind her to bear the full force of her available weaponry.

The Farragut had not yet fully materialized when The Queentia Iactura opened fire. Fighters from both sides launched, turrets mounted to each vessel and the lightning bolts still shooting forth from nowhere took them apart nearly as quickly as they could scramble. The emptiness of space was suddenly filled with fire.

The Queentia Iactura continued to be hammered by the Farragut’s Port turrets, The Majestic was being perforated by rounds longer than a person was tall. Shots aiming to cause collateral damage, trying to force DuHart to break off and lick her wounds. Force her to leave them be with whatever they were trying to accomplish.

“Hull breaches on decks Eighty-Nine, One-Oh-Five, and Two-Ten! We cannot deploy the fire teams while under these maneuvers!” DuHart’s Tactical officer reported, shouting over the blaring klaxons.

“Seal the affected decks!” Captain DuHart ordered, Eighty-Six of her crew beyond saving. “Concentrate fire on their drives!”

The Captain would have none of that. By concentrating her lances on their main drives she had put a countdown over them. They would need to disable or destroy her ship before she finished crippling them, or they would be doomed to rot here alongside her. By DuHart’s estimation, the Farragut would be dead in the water before it occurred to them to stop killing her crew and start trying to fight back.

The Empire did not train their Captains in this behavior, in fact they trained the opposite. But by meeting the charging bull, Stephanie meant to rebuke it. She knew it would work, it was a tactic devised for use against rebelling Federal Captains. The FNS Hellion showed the first sign of their loss in the battle when the next expected wave of defensive fighters was not sent out. Captain DuHart grinned.

“They are preparing to jump.” DuHart announced.

“If you are correct, they will make it to Hyperspace with their drives operable.” Tactical Officer Theo replied

“Let them go, begin picking off their turrets.” The Captain’s order was followed, but not entirely understood.

The FNS Hellion’s real-space drives were still functional, but at extremely reduced capacity. By the time they were safe in the embrace of the ether, The INV Queentia Iactura had managed to damage or disable roughly half of their Port facing batteries as well. DuHart’s vessel remained in better stead. If only for combat.

The Captain and her Tactical Officer sat in the ready room, waiting on several reports before they could continue the chase. Giving the fire-teams some time. What they did have, was being pored over. It was a grim damage report.

“We will be forced to double-up barracks. Intra-vessel operations will be affected.” Theo noted.

“That shot will have been celebrated.” DuHart quipped grimly as she gestured at the display before them.

There are a series of thoroughfares that pass through a Majestic. A gunner aboard The Hellion had put a shell through the Quarterdeck, perforating one of the Lastage areas, and directly into one of these transport tunnels. The loss of foodstuffs was negligible. But, damage to the transit system was extensive. What of the system remained, was now over-stressed.

“What is your opinion, Mister Theo?” DuHart sighed, then asked.

“We should turn back, return to allied territory and seek repairs.” He said, knowing it was not what she wanted to hear.

“We cannot allow them to complete their mission.” The Captain declared.

“What is their mission, Steph?” Cael implored.

“I haven’t a clue.” Stephanie shook her head. “But it must be stopped.”

“I will follow your orders, you know that.” Cael Theo took a breath. “But, what do we put in our reports?”

“They are in the midst of some desperate mission, this much is clear.” The Captain was not wrong.

“How far do you think this is worth taking?” Theo asked his Captain the kind of question that showed his value as Tactical Officer.

“As a Captain of The Empire, this wasn’t worth taking to here.” Stephanie looked into his eyes for a moment. She continued in a hushed tone. “But as a Federal, I can only see how very important this must be.”

“Captain, Sir.” DuHart’s Communications Officer entered the ready room and saluted.

“At ease, what do you have for us?” The Captain asked him.

“Our attempts to triangulate their wake and exit trajectory have been inconclusive. They passed behind the nearby star.” He explained.

“Hiding their movements from us.” Stephanie muttered.

“So I reviewed the sensor logs.” The Communications Officer’s statement drew DuHart’s attention. He was proving himself. “I have triangulated their entrance trajectory, Sirs.”

“Very good.” The Captain nodded at her Officer. “Is there anything more?”

“I… No, Sirs.” He spoke, unsure.

The Captain and her Tactical Officer shared a glance with each-other. then returned their gaze to the Communications officer, he was growing more uncomfortable by the second.

“You have my permission to speak freely.” DuHart told the young man.

“I have never seen combat before today.” He said, a tension leaving him. But the lagomorph’s ears dropped limply. “I find myself unsure if I am capable of this.”

“Your performance has been outstanding.” DuHart assured him.

“Don’t beat yourself up.” Cael stepped in. “Everyone thinks their first time, will be their last.”

Stephanie's​ Tactical Officer stood up, and crossed the ready-room to put his hand on the younger Officer’s shoulder. The Captain simply watched.

“Did you?” The Communications Officer asked his question hesitantly.

“Yeah, second and third as well.” Cael told him, just as quietly but with no hesitation.

The young man’s long ears perked a little. He looked more closely at Cael Theo.

“What happened in your third battle?” The Communications Officer asked.

“It’s not a motivational story, I’m not sure you want to hear it.” Theo took his hand off the younger Officer’s shoulder.

“All the more, now. Sir.” His face remained stoic, but the Lagomorph’s piqued interest was given up by the movement his ears.

“I killed someone.” Cael spoke, but not directly to him.

“I see.” The young man muttered. “You needn’t continue the story, Sir.”

“I wouldn’t have.” Theo said, before dismissing the darker notions. “To return to my original point; there is no way to be prepared for you first battle. Your feelings are to be expected. You may speak with me in private, should you feel the need.”

“Yes sir. Thank you, Sirs.” Stephanie’s Communications Officer saluted them both, then left the ready-room.

The Captain and her Tactical Officer remained silent for a small time, then he slowly returned to his seat. They continued.

“You think the Farragut has returned from where it came?” Theo asked his Captain.

“It’s all we have.” DuHart admitted. “Indulge me for a moment, Mister Theo. Assume The Hellion’s mission is both vital and desperate, what do you think is happening?”

“I can see they are desperate, so assuming what they are up to is vital…” He held his chin ponderously for a short moment. “We’re too close, for them.”

“Agreed.” Stephanie paused for a moment. ”Mister Theo, What do you think of my actions thus-far?”

“I do not know what you know. My thoughts are irrelevant.” Cael explained. “You have my loyalty, and that of the rest of this crew.”

“Thank you for you candor, Mister Theo.” DuHart smirked sarcastically.

“You’re insane.” Cael spoke without making eye contact. “Madness like yours is the kind we are trying to stop, and quite probably the only way to do so.”

“Thank you, Cael.” Stepahnie said quietly.

“Preparations will take the better part of two hours. According to this data, it will take another five to make the journey.” Cael paused for a moment. “If you need to take some downtime, it’s there.”

“No, I do not require that.” The Captain answered.

“It may be worthwhile to put that downtime on offer, nonetheless.” Stephanie’s Tactical Officer said.

“Yes, of course.” The Captain agreed.

Stephanie manned the bridge alongside Eugene Briggs. He was filling well is as acting Tactical Officer. Cael drank in his chosen tavern on the second deck. Stephanie’s Communications Officer and him shared several songs.

Stephanie’s Pallaca thanked the man from the galley whom she met at the door to the Captain’s quarters. He had answered her plainly, offered no apologies. He knew him as well. The girl walked back to the kitchen and sat down. The delivery​ she had just received discarded onto the counter. For all of two minutes she did her best not to cry. Then she wept.

Her friend had died with Eighty-Five more, when their decks were sealed to save hundreds.