Friend, Foe, or Something Else?
Friend, Foe, or Something Else?
Production number FY-1 Revision G
A Production of Ironsides Wordsmithing, a Division of Sylderon Machine Works, in association with HoosierMousie, Ltd.
All characters and descriptions are creations of Squirrel, and are used with his permission. Kalmbach is property of SMW. Additional text by William Shakespeare. Additional music by Sir Arthur Seymour Sullivan. Additional lyrics by Sir William Schwenck Gilbert.
The author has selected and provided several pieces of music, each of which represents a specific character or element within the story. They are provided in the hope that they might increase the enjoyment of the reader.
[Solstice Theme:](%5C) Overture to Colas Breugnon by Dmitri Kabelevsky, performed by the Russian National Orchestra, Mikhail Pletnev cond.
[Ross' Theme:](%5C) Polonnaise in A-Flat Major, Opus 53 (Heroic) by Frederic Chopin, performed by Arthur Rubenstein.
[Illustrious Theme:](%5C) Symphony #1 in D Major (Titan), 4th Movement (Excerpt) by Gustav Mahler, performed by the London Symphony Orchestra, Sir Georg Solti cond.
[Kalmbach's Theme:](%5C) Pohjola's Daughter by Jean Sibelius, performed by the Halle Symphony Orchestra, Sir John Bariboli cond.
[Advent's Theme:](%5C) Piano Concerto #2 in C Minor, Opus 18, 1st Movement by Sergei Rachmaninov, performed by Moura Lympany and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Sir Malcolm Sargent cond.
[Final Scene:](%5C) The final scene of this story, narrated (and sung) by the author.
"Is it all aboard?"
"Aye, Captain."
"Good." He turned from the Chief Engineer to the rest of the Bridge staff. "I think you all understand the significance of this find. What it means is, of course, a different thing entirely. Now, those bouys, did you find the registry information on them?" he asked the Tactical Officer.
"They belong to the Solstice, Wabash-class long-range frigate, hull number FRL-19. Judging by intercepted transmissions, they resumed their previous course, put to port at a planet Range 68, Meridian 79. Then they departed about six days ago."
"They're getting way out there, aren't they."
"It's a furre colony world, avian colony with no previous military activity nearby."
"We won't be able to determine the cause of the explosion for some time." The Chief Engineer again. "It's possible the Solstice opened fire, or they scuttled it."
"Which doesn't tell us what the humans were doing here," the First Officer cut in. "For all we know, they captured the Soltice and discarded their own ship."
"Well, we shall follow, watch, and wait. Set an intercept course for Range 68, Meridian 80, Section 115. If the Solstice continues on their course, they will pass right by an anomalous cluster, where we shall hide. After we have observed them and gathered all the intelligence we can, then we can decide how best to pounce."
"Typical cat," one of the crew said in a low voice. The Captain flicked an ear towards the source, but gave no other reaction. Let them have their fun, and don't hold too tightly to standards; even the best bearings will seize up, if you tighten the casing down enough.
"If there are no further questions," the Captain continued, "Helm, set intercept course, rig ship for jump."
"Aye, Captain."
The status lights in the corridors changed from blue to red, pulsing in synch with the tannoy horn: Emergency Alert, all hands on deck.
"How did we not see that?" Advance squeaked, both in surprise and frustration.
Sub-Commander Aria turned to him from her Tactical station, the long-range radar and electromagnetic detectors on her display. "They were hiding within a nebula."
"To think with all this technology, and they can just...hide! Something over a quarter-mile long!" Advance grumbled, mostly to himself. "Fog, the scourge of navigation from the beginning."
"We're being hailed." Lieutenant Audrey, the Communications Officer, spoke up. Flipping a few switches, she set the feed to the main bridge display screen. The image consisted only of static from the massive clouds of charged particles nearby, the audio not much better, but understandable.
"You are the Solstice." It was not a question.
"Yes. What of it?" Advance responded, looking up at the main display.
"This is the Illustrious. Kindly stop your ship, or we will open fire."
Advance could see the long, sleek shape approaching them clearly now. "Who are you and what do you want with us? Aren't we on the same side?"
"We should be," Aria tapped her console, reading the results of here query. "FCN Illustrious, Montanowa-class battleship."
"Then why are they targeting us?"
"Who cares? We can outrun that old bathtub." Lieutenant Advent, fresh from her illness, was at the helm station.
"Aria, refresh us on the specifics of the Montanowa class."
"Certainly, Captain." Taptaptapitty. "Main battery: Twelve sixteen-inch naval rifles, range thirty-five thousand miles. Secondary battery: Fourty-eight five-inch..."
"Alright then, punch it. They have no authority to do this."
"I don't think you understand, Advent. They are aiming at us, and I'm pretty sure they're serious," Advance responded. Having scurried up to the flying bridge, he peered through the tripod-mounted electrotelescope, watching the massive turrets swing their way. The various scanner and radar aerials rotating at various rates. Long-range naval search. Short-range high-resolution. Passive and active jamming. Navigation. Short-range hazard and docking. Primary and secondary fire-control...gulp! On the flanks of the bridge were painted the registration number, BB-59, along with the Federation Crest and eleven battle stars. He could see in his mind the complicated mechanical ballet the crew-furs performed within: Shell hoist hatch unlock and open. Loading chute down. Ram arm extend. Ram arm retract. Shell hoist hatch close and lock. Same sequence for the propellant charges. Loading chute up and out. Breech plug swing up, rotate one-quarter turn clockwise. Stand by to fire. "Engines All Stop."
Advent started. "What...?"
"I will not stand by and have my ship shot out from under my ass! Now," Advance slid down the ladder and addressed the main screen again "what is it you want with us?"
"They've accelerated to flank speed on an intercept course. Range: twenty-thousand." Aria again.
"I was hoping you wouldn't do anything irrational." The image on the viewscreen resolved itself, the other ship clear of the anomaly. A white feline wearing an officer's cap. "You have recently come into contact with a human vessel, correct?"
"Yes. It blew up as we approached."
"Well, I have been assigned to patrol this section, and your activities of late strike me as highly suspicious. I should like to discuss them with you, Captain...?"
"Advance. And you are?"
"Captain Kalmbach, my good mouse. And if you don't mind, I shall be coming aboard. I'd like to see one of these new frigates up close."
"Alright. What do we tell him?" Advance addressed his officers, seated around the table in the conference room, just off the bridge.
"I say we find out just how much he knows first. Then we can decide how little information we can get away with," Opal, the Chief Navigator suggested.
"We just don't want him doing anything irrational. You remember Silver's little misadventure, right?" Welly, the Medical and Science Officer, was referring to the late Admiral Silver's plan for a preemptive strike against suspected human forces, thwarted by Captain Wren and the crew of the FCN Luminous (FRL-17), another prey-commanded ship and the first of the Wabash class.
"I don't think we need be concerned about that." Aria, First Officer as well as Tactical Officer, had spent years as a special operative in the war against the arctic foxes, where the snow rabbit became acquainted with the various aspects of predator psychology. "The snow leopards stayed out of our war, preferring to wait and see what happened. Most cold-weather cats are like that; more cautious, less impulsive than your typical predator." Aria chose her words carefully, so as not to upset Advent. Still, she avoided the jaguar's gaze.
"I agree," the Captain. "The fact that he didn't simply open fire certainly reflects that."
Audrey, the Communications Officer, spoke up now. "But what about Ross? If we reveal that he was a human, we might as well shoot him now and spare Kalmbach the trouble." The rest of the crew cringed at this remark, but none doubted its validity.
Advance noticed Lieutenant Herkimer, the Operations Officer, looked like he wanted to say something. "Yes, Herkimer, what is it?"
"I think we should just let Ross decide what he's comfortable with revealing. I mean, he has to suffer whatever consequences...right?"
"That should work. I think we can trust his judgement."
"How did I know you were going to say that?" was Advent's retort. Aria did have a slight bias in Ross' favor, being that he was her mate.
"Do you honestly think he would jeopardize all of us for his own gain? If it wasn't for that raid," Aria responded, referring to the boarding of a derelict human vessel, "he'd most likely be dead. Besides, you should know better than anyone here how hard it is for a mouse to lie."
Herkimer squeaked slightly at that last comment, having been Advent's 'pet'.
Advance moved to disarm the tension. "Let's concentrate on the problem at hand. Now, I can't find any objections to Ross explaining himself. Aria, you get him and tell him our plan. The rest of us will head down to the shuttle bay in full dress. We don't know what we're getting into, but we might as well make a good impression."
The shuttle pod's doors ratcheted open, the drop steps folding down to the deck. A large cat, white with black splotches stepped out, alone. His jawline was surrounded by courser black fur, with a black tuft on the chin. Medium-blue eyes regarded the assembled crew with a stern and severe countenance. At the other end of the flight deck stood his opposite number, the desert mouse dressed in the newer-styled medium grey jacket. The cat walked smoothly, the black tip of his tail flicking out between the tails of his knee-length overcoat, and stopped before Advance, touching the tip of his paw, palm in, to the brim of his cap in a naval salute. Advance returned the gesture.
"You said that you found our activities to be suspicious. Just what do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean. Engaging and following a human vessel, then attending to its destruction without registering a report of any kind, even though you've had over a month to do so. You did not contact Naval Command about the wreckage; I'm surprised you even bothered to leave a few bouys!"
"It's rather hard to get good communications this far from Home-world. And I should be asking you questions. What possessed you to nearly open fire on an Federation warship without provocation? Or are you just one of Silver's cronies, trying to take out your own frustrations where they won't be noticed?"
"First of all, Silver was an idiot!" The two captains were by this time shouting at each-other, much to the concern of the Solstice's crew. "He took the Reserve Fleet on his own flight of fancy, leaving Home-world undefended, giving the Wasps a perfect chance to attack! We can no longer take any chances; so, mouse, explain yourself!"
"You will give answers before getting any from me! We're the same rank, and I'm not going to abandon my operational independence just for you."
"Perhaps you did not understand: You are not in a position to negotiate!" The cat raised his right paw again, claws begining to unsheathe. "Either you..."
Raising his arm had left Kalmbach's flank exposed, and a blur of grey and white slammed into him. A grunt. A thud. A leopard skidding across the deck on his belly. The cat struggled to support his upper body on his elbows, coughing, hacking, gasping for breath, he rolled over on his back. Aria stood over him, eyes narrowed, nostrils twitching, pistol held in a two-handed grip, aimed at his forehead. She sneared at him. "We are not about to be threatened by the likes of you."
The Captain continued to struggle for breath. "I'm...sorry. That...was...not very be-becoming of an officer." He clasped paws behind his back and stretched, arms extended, arching his back and forcing his chest out with a noticable crack. "I deserved that. Letting one's emotions out of control is...injudicious." He picked himself up, brushed off his coat and retrieved his cap. "Blood can sometimes run too hot, and we abandon the conduct of civil creatures. I believe the old verse went like this:" he continued, stroking his beard. "Then a soldier/Full of strange oaths and bearded like the 'pard/Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel..."
"Seeking the bubble reputation/Even in the cannon's mouth." Advance finished for him.
The cat gave a deep chuckle. "Let us hope not!" Kalmbach raised his arm again, this time to clap the mouse on the shoulder. "You are well read, if not well met. Please forgive my feral indiscretions and let us discuss this situation as gentle-furs."
Audrey let out a breath and slumped against the bulkhead.
"So you beat them back?" Herkimer stared at the guest with wide eyes.
"I suppose you could say that." The leopard lounged in the conference room chair, legs crossed, his large white footpaw (bare, as cats' paws are not conducive to boots) twitching back and forth slightly. "I had protested Silver's requisition of the reserve fleets, but I was a Battery Commander; what authority did I have? So, they took most of my gunners with them and left me at my little observation post, where I couldn't cause any trouble. Then the Wasps learned about the disabled fleet and quickly organized a landing force. Even with their intelligence on the fleet, they knew nothing of the planetary artillery."
"But guns are no use without gunners."
"I didn't have gunners, but there was the Prey Auxillary: The main depository for any prey furs that thought they could fight, was how the Admiralty described it. Shipyard workers, machinists, janitors, all the support staff that Silver thought would just get in the way of a quick strike. They might not have had official training, but they hung around the fleet long enough to pick up on tactics and procedure, knew how to follow orders, things like that. As compared to some of those in the Admiralty at the time, who probably thought that a screw-lock breech plug was something kinky furs use up the tailhole."
The assembled group had a good laugh.
"But seriously, that was the first true demonstration to Naval Command and the Council that prey could be just as motivated in battle as any other fur. Of course it caused some problems. Admiralty wasn't too happy about the publicity I got--not that I really wanted it--so they decided to 'promote' me to Fleet Captain and send me out on an old BB on Long Patrol. It's funny how they thought, back at Headquarters: Sure, the new fast-attack carriers and whatnot are all nice, but my old battle-bucket could blow 'em in half with a single broadside.
"Anyway, shortly after Silver came back, he was...how shall I put...found to no longer be tactically or strategically effective, and was then...'removed from service' well, uh, permanent-like. The fleets have become more integrated since then, and I brought a number of my former comrades from the Artillery to serve with me. And that's how I ended up out here. Now, is there anything else?"
"Well, yes." A small, dark-brown meadow mouse stood up. Ensign Ross, one of the Chief Cooks. He had come from the galley bearing drinks. "If you don't mind, I wish to speak with you privately...about the, uh, humans."
"Well certainly. Shall we go, then...?"
"I'll take you to my quarters."
Kalmbach sniffed the air as he stepped inside, a smirk forming.
"What is it?"
"Oh, I was just noticing a familiar scent. Of that rabbit that shoulder-checked me. Is she always that aggressive?"
"Oh, no. She has a hard edge, of course. Being from...you know, from the ice. But she can be very, very gentle...Oh, I've said too much!" Giggle-squeak! "How are you feeling, anyway?"
"It's not the worst. I had a skiing accident that ended up the same way," Kalmbach said, rubbing his ribs. "Before we go on, what's your name?"
"Ross."
"Ross...why does that name seem so familiar to me? Have we met before? I remember a Lieutenant Ross from FMA, but she wasn't Navy...anyway, what about these humans?"
"Well, I was with them. On that ship that the Solstice chased. They were doing...experiments. Trying to turn...humans" he spoke with word with apparent discomfort "into furs. I don't know why. But, the Solstice...they rescued me."
Kalmbach leaned a bit closer, eying the vole suspiciously. "Just what exactly were you doing there?"
"I was..." A long pause. Ross shifted in his seat on the bed, bringing his tail up between his legs, stroking it with both paws. Clearly uneasy with what he was about to say. "They captured me...the humans, I mean. They wanted me for, I guess, a prototype." Fidget. Squirm. "They took measurements, inserted probes and needles, drew blood, bits of...tissue." Huff chuff, gulp. "They had this human next to me, on another table. They transferred the bits of my...my flesh, into him." Sniffle. "They injected a lot of other chemicals...He screamed! He tried to get away...but he was strapped down tight. Then he...started coughing blood...screaming!" Ross himself screamed and began to quiver, whimper, squeak almost silently. "I'm sorry...!"
Kalmbach slid over on the bed, putting an arm around the smaller rodent. Ross squeezed him with both arms and pressed his forehead against the cat's flat chest. Tears soaking into his shirt (the cat having removed his overcoat back in the conference room). The paw on Ross' back rubbed him gently, feeling the mouse hyperventilate with his sobs. The other paw came around, scratching Ross through his headfur, the claws extended just enough to produce a gentle tickling. The long fluffy tail with the black tuft at the end curled around the both of them. The cat's chest vibrated with a deep purr, as he whispered into Ross' ear.
"It's alright; don't be ashamed of anything. Neither you nor anyone else deserves what happened to you. I will gladly die before letting those humans..." his tongue practically dripping with contempt as he growled that word. "You do not have to worry about them again. If any even come near you, I will personally tear out their throats."
This violent oath caused Ross to whimper further, which caused Kalmbach (realizing that might not have been the right thing to say in this situation) to continue his gentle motions. A strange thought entered the snow leopard's mind at this time. Here I am, cuddling, stroking, whispering promises to...a male. Isn't this a little...well...gay? Do what you wish with whomever doesn't object, but I don't prefer the fellas, right? Stop this thinking, he told to himself. The injuries of his body have been healed by science. The injuries of his heart, his soul...they can only be healed by love. He must be loved and comforted; even my heart hasn't been hardened that much.
This little internal arguement had apparently taken some time; the mouse in his embrace had calmed enough to break Kalmbach's reverie. He squeaked something, then gently pushed away from the cat.
"I was wondering if I could...ask you something."
"I don't see why not. What's on your mind?"
"Well..." Ross paused, not knowing exactly how to begin. "There's this cat, on our crew. A jaguar, to be specific."
"Yes, I saw her on the flight deck."
"She has been causing some...problems. With the crew."
"You mean, interspecies tensions?"
"Yeah. She took another mouse...Lieutenant Herkimer, the grey one, as her 'pet'. And every day, he'd have a new scratch, a new bruise, a dislocated shoulder. She had him completely submissive, even had him wearing this collar..."
"But he isn't now. What happened?"
"Some of us...well, not me, but some of the crew confronted him. Eventually, we convinced him to leave Advent...that's the jaguar's name. She was very angry about it, but...with another mouse as Captain, she couldn't do anything about it. So, we had relative peace...the tension was still there, but no physical confrontation, just snide comments, mean looks, stuff like that. But now...she's changed."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean she's...her heat. It was up about ten days ago, but then we visited the monotreme colony, and she got some sort of flu virus. It kept her heat down, but now she's over the virus and she's, well, really horny. She's been spending a lot of time in the simulations and...two days ago, she almost raped our botanist."
"Who was that?"
"The light-brown rabbit. Ensign Lipton."
"Well, he looks like an energetic young buck. A rabbit like him might be able to satisfy a cat in heat...if she were to ask him politely. But clearly that's not an option. I know that my medical staff can formulate some suppressor hormones to get her back under control..."
"That's the whole problem! She's on this whole, you know, predator-superiority trip. She has no idea how she...hurts some of us! She turned Herkimer into a total basket case. He's now mated to Opal, our navigator, and she practically puts in a second shift just trying to care for him! He's...been messed up, permanantly! I just wish...I just wish she could understand how she's tearing furs apart for her own wants!"
"Sounds like your typical unrepentant predator. Not much you can really do to persuade her. But, there may be something...you said she was in heat?"
"Yeah."
"And you want her to understand how she has made others feel by using them. Well, this gives me an idea." Kalmbach gave a deep chuckle, grinning and showing enough fang to make Ross uneasy. "She can be made to understand...and I believe I can help you."
"Wha...what are you going to do?"
"I mean to take her back to the Illustrious--with your captain's permission, of course. That a feline picked up a virus native to a monotreme colony, that demands some medical investigation on our part. I'm sure you know how dangerous cross-species viruses can be. So, I take her over to my ship and there I will...impress upon her the unkind nature of her past behavior."
"You're not going, going to..." Ross stuttered, understanding what the Captain was insinuating. "That's just...evil!"
"That reminds me of a quote from an old Cold Warrior. He asked 'How much evil must we do, in order to do good?' They are linked. It is impossible to do good without even a little evil, just as it's impossible to create light without shadow--impossible for us, anyway. She is a predator. But not like me. The only way to make a true predator change its behavior is by showing it would be advantageous to do so, or...by the most direct form of persuasion. She clearly does not understand mercy, pity, or kindness, not as you and I do, but she will understand force."
Ross began whimpering again, the leopard's demeanor having gone from warm to cold so abruptly. "I don't want you to...hurt her. You musn't...!"
"I give you my honor as an officer that she will not be harmed, not by my paw. The only pain she will feel is the guilt of her own actions."
"I suppose..."
"Believe me, I know how much a cat can affect the lives of prey. If anything else, her predations distract this crew. Such bickering is pointless, and we cannot risk having our forces out here at anything less than full readiness. Now, if you don't mind, I shall discuss this with Advance."
"Just what is this really all about, anyway? I told you, I'm over that stupid virus; it's nothing to worry about."
"Sometimes one must say not what they wish to say, but what others wish to hear." The leopard led the jaguar through the corridors of the battleship. "Would Advance have agreed to this if I told him what I was really thinking?"
"What are you thinking?" The pair ducked through a hatchway into another narrow, angling passageway. "And just my luck that I go from a ship commanded by a mouse to one designed by a mouse!"
"Naval architecture has certainly changed in seventy years, my dear." Advent's nose told her as much the moment she stepped out of the shuttle pod. The Solstice smelled of plastics, the rarified air exhausted from various computer terminals. The Illustrious had the grease used on the hatch hinges (all manually operated), the steel bulkheads covered by several layers of grey paint, high explosives, machine oil, the rhythmic vibrations of the reciprocating generators.
"What did Ross tell you?"
"Oh, everything. He's obviously been corrupted by his experiences. It was pathetic. He whined and clung to me like a kitten searching for a teat! It was all I could do to get him to stop and not wring his little neck!"
"Why didn't you, then?"
"Because his killer bunny would have perforated me and turned my pelt into a bathrobe. You saw what she did on the flight deck! I admit, my attention was elsewhere, but still!"
"So then, you suck up to Advance. What kind of predator are you?"
Kalmbach grinned back over his shoulder. "I am whatever the current situation demands me to be. It is Victory through Versatility."
"So why bring me here?"
"You know precisely why, just as I knew when I first set paw on that ship. Because I have something, and you want me to give it to you."
"What do you mean? Stop playing around and just tell me!" she screamed. Her mind similarly screamed at her: What's going on here! Stop, you're losing control. You must not lose control!
"Stop being naive, it's not in our nature!" Kalmbach snapped, opening a hatch stenciled SECONDARY BATTERY #2 PORTSIDE FIRE DIRECTOR: KEEP CLOSED! The massive block of steel, a gap in the ship's otherwise-seemless fifteen-inch thick inner belt, swing inwards and to the side. "After you, my dear," the Captain said, with somewhat artificial grace. Advent stepped inside, finding, in addition to the fire director and its radar display, a cot on the floor. She began to step back, but the crash of the armored door closing stopped her.
"You may find it a bit strange, but this is where I go when I wish to remain undisturbed. Suffice it to say that being the Captain of a ship staffed largely with prey does have certain...benefits, and that I take full advantage of them." Kalmbach hung his cap and coat over the layer's seat on the fire director. "Now, as to why you're here." He stepped behind Advent, paws coming up to her jacket buttons. Purring, pressing himself against her shapely form. The gentle vibrations resonated deep within her chest. Perhaps, she thought, a temporary loss of control was an acceptible risk.
Shortly after Advent's jacket had joined Kalmbach's, she felt her belt being loosened. Another button coming open. The wool trousers of her dress uniform--a heavier fabric than her normal fatigues--had done a good job of containing the moisture that most signified her vulnerable condition. Her panties, however, were less effective. A single padded paw-finger slid over the swollen lips within, bringing a sigh through her teeth. A deep voice whispered in her ear: "Do we have an understanding now, my dear?" Advent simply purred, then mewed with disappointment as the paw left her.
Kalmbach brought it to his muzzle, cleaning the juices and savoring the flavor, one he had not tasted in years: Slightly acidic, but still sweet, with a musky aftertaste. A gentle pressure to the back of Advent's head led her to kneel down, as her dress shirt (having been unbuttoned while she was preoccupied) was lifted from her shoulders. Kalmbach pressed his bare chest--not well developed, but cats are built for agility, not strength--against her rear as he hooked his thumbs in her waistband and pulled down. The release of scent caused them both to grimace--like a yawn, with the tongue hanging out, to better absorb the hormones that danced in the air.
Kalmbach lay on his back behind her, pushing against the floor with his legs, sliding between her legs as she remained kneeling. Propping himself up on his elbows, the cat brushed his whiskers against the soft, delectable morsel just above him. "I don't know how you've dealt with this in the past, but I want to make sure it's done properly." The tongue switched from speaking to tasting, cleaning the wetness from the soft fur between her legs before flitting lightly over the full lips. Advent squealed lightly as a broad pink nose pressed against her, so as to better breathe her intoxicating fog.
"I'm sure no mouse was able to do this!" the leopard boasted. Advent wondered, why this mention of a mouse? Surely, he can't know of Herkimer...But that thought, along with all others, was blasted from her mind as a broad, raspy tongue slowly slurped over the exterior of her sex. Advent shuddered as the tip snaked into her; gently but insistently pressing onward, then drawing out a globule of her sweetness, which he rolled around in his mouth before swallowing. Advent squealed, louder than before, as a broad paw drew her lower lips apart, two of the soft-furred fingers penetrating her, tickling. The tongue switched its attentions to her clit, flitterring delicately, rapidly over the hypersensative nub of flesh that peeked out from under its protective hood.
This was too much for the jaguar. She yowled, pitching forward onto her paws. The nectar that had been carefully dredged from within her was soon replaced by a strong flood. When her shaking had subsided, Kalmbach pulled himself out from under her and stood up, looking like...well...a drowned cat. The fur of his face had been thoroughly glazed, and he set about licking his paws and washing himself.
"I'm sure that was all very nice for you, kitten, but it left me a little...unfulfilled." The Captain said, after finishing his tongue-bath. The juices he swallowed resulted in his trousers becoming rather uncomfortable, but this was dealt with. At the sound of a zipper, Advent gazed over her shoulder through lust-lidded eyes at his pride: Nine inches long, a good one-and-a-half thick, pulsing, twitching with anticipation, a drop of his seed already visible at the conical tip.
She moved to get up, but was stopped by a single word. "Stay! I will take care of everything for you." She quietly whined with need, her tail twitching over her glistening sex, further spreading her scent--though by now, it was like emptying a bucket into an ocean. Even a disinterested male would find it difficult to deny her what she sought.
With as much feline grace as possible, Kalmbach slid over her backside, only to pause, finding her bra still in place (how could one forget that!), but it was quickly dispensed with. Hooking his elbows over her shoulders, he passed his arms between hers, massive paws finding their way to her chest. Advent mrowled as the rough skin of his palm-pads tweaked her nipples, his fingers fondling the two mounds of flesh. Though well-rounded and filling out her chest nicely, they were firm and proportional to her slimly-muscled frame, neither protruding nor drooping enough to reduce the agility, speed, and strength that made her kind Nature's ultimate killing machine.
Advent felt a light touch between her thighs. Using his tail, Kalmbach was positioning himself. He paused again, whispering "I hope that spending all your time with those rodents, you haven't forgotten what true pleasure is."
Advent had begun drooling from both pairs of lips. "Shut up and get on with it!" she panted.
But of course. Predators did not speak to each-other while breeding. There was no point in whispering sentimental nonsense or worrying about "imprinting" or other such superstitious hangups of more delicate minds. No, this was much more pure, direct, simple: The motion of two beautiful and powerful bodies for the purpose of ultimate pleasure.
His jaws clamped down tightly on her scruff as Kalmbach pulled his body forward against hers. Even with the heat radiating from the surface, he was barely prepared as the tip of his shaft divided her outer folds and entered the furnace between her legs. With grunts and moans from the both of them, he pressed further, her inner folds tight, unaccustomed to a thickness like his. Thankfully, her preposterous amount of wetness ensured no friction, even as his thighs met her rump, grinding together. Kalmbach backed out slowly, his shaft drawing some of Advent's wetness with it, then pushed back in again, slowly accelerating. Her outer lips wiped his shaft clean on each inward thrust, her necter dripping hotly down her thigh and onto the cot, were it puddled. Dip dip dip dip...each thrust bringing more wetness, more noise, the intense heat concentrated at their point of joining slowly diffusing out through their bodies.
Advent began moaning continuously, her scruff pulled back by a strong muzzle, the friction against her as Kalmbach rocked his entire body back and forth with each thrust, rubbing her back, paws still clenched on her breasts, his breath through his nose sounding like a forge bellows, the hot air blasting against her ears. It was too much...dip dip dip dip dip splash! The fur of her crotch (and his) was matted with her nectar and Advent shrieked, collapsed forward onto her belly, writhing and twisting with orgasm.
Kalmbach's shaft was pulled out as she fell, but he continued to lay on her. As she came down from her ecstacy, her released his grip on her neck and whispered into her fuzzy pointed ear. "Don't tell me you didn't enjoy that. Particularly after having to settle for mice this whole time. Although I suppose they have their advantages, also. They're so sweetly submissive, you can just hold them, have them, keep them...possess them," he purred, nuzzling into her headfur. "You can't be quite as vigorous with them as you would a fellow cat, right? I suppose you can pound away on them, like this!" Kalmbach had secretly aligned himself again, and now thrust deeply into her, with as much speed and force possible.
Advent cried out, still oversensative as well as surprised. Kalmbach lowered hs voice back to a deep purr. "You might bruise them a bit, but mice are very resilient. They heal quickly, right? At least their bodies do." He began to pull back out, very slowly. Just as canine members form knots, felines have a collection of nubs about the circumference of the shaft, just below the head, that become erect during mating. They rubbed and tugged, teasing Advent's passage, bringing growls of both pleasure and frustration; even with another cat within her, the heat had yet to be sated.
Kalmbach continued. "Then why do mice seem attracted to us? Perhaps it is because they enjoy being subservient, to be held down by a larger, more powerful, more deadly fur." He pulled his shaft entirely out of her. Advent moaned, rubbing her thighs together, grinding her crotch against the cot, anything to make this burning stop! "Perhaps the mice want to feel a soft-furred, muscular body surrounding them." He again rammed himself into Advent, then began pulling out with incredible slowness. As Advent had fallen, Kalmbach's arms had slid from her shoulders down along her sides, his paws still beneath the two of them, his elbows hooked around her arms, pinning them to her sides. She squirmed, trying to free at least a paw.
"I know it feels nice to have a little mouse at your mercy, wiggling around, trying to scurry away, but you haven't finished playing, have you? No, you still want to pinch and scratch and squeeze them, but after a while, they might get resentful. You have to show them, make it very clear just who is controlling the situation!" Another thrust; Advent screamed. Her muscles were still recovering from the forced inactivity of her sickness; there was no chance of throwing off a male who weighed at least half again as much as she did.
"I think I would lose interest after a while. You can hammer the Mouse Organ as hard as you want, make him squeak louder and louder, but then, he just goes inert, lays back and lets you have him. You might as well be yiffing a chair." Thrust; whimper-squeal. "I imagine that's what he sounded like."
Advent whined helplessly. "Why are you doing this? Please...stop!"
Kalmbach responded as calmly as if she had asked him the time of day. "I'm sure he said near the same thing. And I'm sure you said the same thing that I say to you now: 'Because I want to. And because I can.' But I don't think the little mouse was ever in a situation similar to yours." Referring to her heat. "You couldn't give him anything that he really needed, that he couldn't get from his own paw. I, on the other paw, have something which I think you need very, very much." His tone never strayed from the deep, smooth, soft purr. Advent's sex-addled mind finally put together the true meaning of his words, and she doubled her struggles...but they still came to nothing.
"Funny thing is, perhaps you felt the same way that I feel now. About how easy it was to put another under your control by the promise of something so simple; companionship, love, protection, even a single batch of seed. And the great power you have when your victim realizes that only through you will they get what they need; how they are trapped, bound to you until you say otherwise. You understand, yes?"
Advent struggled to form words as Kalmbach continued to tease her intimate passage as well as her mind. "Yes...! Please, I'm...I'm sorry! Just please...stop!" she whined pathetically.
Kalmbach paused, as if considering her plea. "Normally, I wouldn't have any reason whatever to believe you. However, this is by far not a normal circumstance. And, unlike you, I do not particularly enjoy doing this sort of thing, even if you do deserve all of it and worse."
Advent whimpered, fighting back tears, as she felt Kalmbach pull free of her and the weight on her back lessened. She got up onto her knees, only to be pulled around by strong paws on her shoulders. Kalmbach was sitting on the cot, facing her.She cried out in surprise as her legs were forcibly parted; one pulled straight behind her by his footpaws, the other brought forward, her footpaw resting on his chest. He raised his knees on either side of her back leg, his footpaws flat on the floor. Taking a tight grip on her thighs with his paws, he shifted her slightly, to align her dripping treasure directly above his shaft, already so painfully erect that it needed no guidance from his tail.
Using every muscle of his hips, thighs, and lower back, Kalmbach pushed himself into the jaguar with such force that she was lifted bodily several inches. His fuzzy sheath wedged into her outer folds, and the soft tip of his shaft batterred against the very gates of her womb. As quickly as he had entered, he retreated, then returned, Advent bouncing up and down with his mighty thrusts, sobbing and squealing with incoherent ecstacy, leaning forward and resting her paws on his chest. Kalmbach kept up his motions, eyes and jaws clamped shut from exertion, a steady flow of his pre mixing with Advent's necter as it dribbled from her lewdly-squelching honeypot. Panting and growls filled the small space. Paws gripped tighter, as claws were unsheathed, little streaks of crimson mingling with the gold and black, the white and grey.
Although it was far from obvious, Kalmbach had been on the edge for some time. He arched his back upwards, ramming into Advent and holding himself there, somehow even deeper than before. The soft conical tip of his shaft, having persuaded its way beyond her cervix, erupted with a blast of boiling seed, Kalmbach giving a deafening roar. His crotch was further drenched as Advent yowled and shrieked, each thick pulse of seed (she lost count after ten) sending a wave of heat shooting up her spine, where it exploded, clouding her vision with sparks.
Her body reacted to the presence of another cat's male essence by throwing her into orgasm that doubled, perhaps trebled in intensity; she felt like her fur was glowing incadescently as the inferno of her pussy overran her entire body. Her consious mind, clearly under too much strain, simply switched off. Advent went limp, slumping over on Kalmbach's chest; still impaled on his shaft, she curled up into a quivering ball of golden fur flecked with black, eyes screwed shut, tongue flopping out, panting heavily.
Kalmbach, having come down from his own (admittedly incredible) orgasm, reached over to his coat and removed a loaded hypodermic injection-gun. He pressed the end against Advent's thigh and squeezed; in her current state, she couldn't possibly notice it. The anti-implantation hormonal preparation would prevent any fertilized egg from being implanted within her womb; rather, it would be flushed out, just like any unfertilized egg at the end of the female cycle. A battleship is no place to raise a cub, Kalmbach told himself.
Later that evening, the Second Officer aboard the Illustrious was making his patrols, passing through the third gun deck, when a strange odor cought his attention. Some sort of herb or vegetable...he traced it to one of the Secondary Battery Fire Director stations, and noticed the hatch to the #2 Portside Director was closed, but not locked and sealed. The beagle wrinkled his nose as he recognized the scent: Catnip. There were rumors that the Captain would go off to one of the gun stations when he was off duty and the ship was in (relatively) safe space. Sure, the use of such substances was illegal, but those who write the regulations couldn't possibly know what combat could do to a fur, even one with ice-water flowing through a cast-iron heart.
"As long as it doesn't affect your performance or your judgement, what you do in your spare time is no concern of mine." That is what the Captain had said shortly after he had taken command. If the Captain needed a little chemical assistance to get his nerves in order, so be it. You can't dig mouseholes in a steel deck. The beagle spun the crankwheel, and the camlocks on the hatch gripped the bulkhead, forming an airtight seal.
Yet behind the hatch, something happened that would cause one to question the judgement of the Captain, or of any predator. There was often music playing within Kalmbach's head. Whether it was because he was musically-inclined, or because he was more than a little insane, was a matter of debate (most likely a little of both). But this music soon became audible in the same deep, smooth voice that gave orders on the Bridge.
"Oh, is there not one maiden breast
Which does not feel the moral beauty
Of making worldly interest
Subordinate to sense of duty?
"Who would not give up willingly
All matrimonial ambition,
To rescue such an one as I
From his unfortunate position?
From his position...
To rescue such an one as I
From his unfortunate position?
"Oh, is there not one maiden here
Whose homely face and bad complexion
Have caused all hope to disappear
Of ever winning man's affection?
"To such an one, if such there be,
I swear by Heaven's arch above you:
If you would cast your eyes on me,
However plain you be, I'll love you!
However plain you be...
If you would cast your eyes on me,
However plain you be, I'll love you!"