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"What if he calls on me?" Herkimer asked Barrow as the lift doors opened. They exited and walked down a curved, carpeted corridor. They were headed for the conference room. "What will I say?!" the blue-grey mouse squeaked.

"Who? What?" Barrow asked, blinking in confusion. "Huh?"

"I've never met an admiral before!"

"Oh! Right."

Barrow, the station's top doctor, knew Admiral Flint had arrived last night. The ceremonial visit had been hyped for weeks. He hadn't been allowed to forget it ...

"They need to take that junk to a research facility in High Command space," Sheila said, venting to her mate. It was the night before, and her shift was over. She'd run over-hours. Again. That was the second time this week! "Do you know how many of my security officers I have just standing around guarding the science lab now?"

"I'll say ... four," Barrow replied, reading the hare's mind with his telepathic powers.

"Two at the door, one at each end of the corridor," she confirmed. "And that's in addition to security checks to actually _open_the door." The silver hare unceremoniously pulled off her uniform shirt and tossed it onto a chair. Upper body in only a black sports bra, she went to the food processor and said, "Cider, hard. Cold."

Barrow couldn't help but admire his mate's physique. She was tall and lean, full of coiled energy. What she lacked in bulk, she made up for in dexterity. A natural fighter, she could kick-punch anyone on their ass, and then some.

There was a 'whir-whir-whir' and a glass of alcohol was produced.

Sheila took a drink and smacked her lips. "Admiral Flint is going to dock tonight."

"Is he?" Barrow echoed. "When?" The ship he was on, Yellowknife, was supposed to drop off some new high-tech medical equipment for the infirmary. Including a sub-atomic microscope and a case of next-gen scanners and hypos.

"Tonight," Sheila stressed. "Are you listening to me?"

"Of course."

"I was just informed, not half an hour ago," Sheila said dramatically, "that he's not bringing his own security detail! Just an aide or a secretary or whatever. Does he not realize what a tempting target he'd be to the riffraff in these parts? Why's he traveling so light?"

Barrow opened his handsome blue muzzle to reply, but Sheila was on a roll.

"Probably thinks he's invincible. That's what power does to people, you know. Insulates them from consequences." Putting her drink down, she decided, "I'm hungry." She gave Barrow a teasing look. "Maybe I'll have an apple."

He couldn't help but flash his fangs at her. "You can't keep me away that easily."

"If you were a fruit bat, I could."

"Alas. Not that there's anything wrong with a ripe, juicy peach ... "

"Is that supposed to be an innuendo?"

"You're right. You'd clearly be something with a much harder skin. Like, you'd have an actual rind," Barrow said. "Maybe a melon? How 'bout a honeydew?"

The hare, ignoring him, went back to the food processor and continued, "I'm having to provide Flint with at least three or four bodies for a security detail, in addition to the ones I'm losing guarding that lab. I need people for just casual patrols and calls for assistance. I'm running low on alpha shift officers. I've had to pull from the other two shifts ... "

Sheila interrupted herself to put in her food order. "Mixed salad topped with almond slices, carrots, and croutons. And a bowl of rotini pasta with marinara."

Whir-whir-whir!

The meal appeared.

Taking a bowl in each paw, the hare went to the couch, leaning back and extending her lithe legs. She propped up the heels of her big, bare foot-paws on the coffee table. With a fork, she began to dig in. Salad first.

"Don't we have to keep the dragon artifacts here because of our new alliance with the Syndicate?" Barrow said, taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch. "They claim jurisdiction of the planet we found the ruins on."

Indeed, a team of Syndicate scientists was currently living on Redwing, working with a snow rabbit engineering team to analyze and catalogue the trove of objects they'd uncovered on the desert world. They claimed it 'could take years,' but Barrow figured they were just being over-excitable.

"Well, if we're doing the hosting, why can't the Syndicate provide the security?" Sheila said, mouth full of lettuce. She chewed a few more times and swallowed. "Wait, I know why. Cause they're telepaths. They're just here for 'information'."

The Syndicate may have been allies with the High Command now, but Sheila wasn't about to have blind faith in their Quorum, which is what they called their decision-making leadership circle.

"I'm a telepath," Barrow reminded.

Taking a sip of her drink, she asked, "Is that supposed to be flirty? First, the peach thing, now this? You're horny, aren't you."

"No." He blinked. "I mean, 'no, I wasn't flirting, but yeah I'm' ... well, obviously."

"Thought maybe your fangs were starting to leak," Sheila teased.

While bats were able to read short-term 'surface' thoughts and feelings, anything deeper required a more ... 'intimate' connection. In the form, specifically, of a drug-injecting bite that was activated by sexual arousal. When linked, the two partners literally became one, sharing thoughts and real-time physical sensations, as well as memories and emotions.

The blue bat admitted, self-consciously, "I was just reminding you that you used to distrust all telepaths."

"I distrust everyone. I'm an equal-opportunity cynic," Sheila said.

Barrow understood that, but, "I spent so long getting you to trust me that I'm a little worried that part of you still doesn't ... "

"What more do I have to do? I've let you inside my head. You have the receipts."

"I know," he said softly.

"You're just trying to trick me into saying that I love you."

"Heh." The bat smiled warmly. "That must be it. I _do_like hearing you say it."

Sheila insisted, "Say it back ... "

"I love you, too," the bat breathed.

"Damn right."

Getting back to the original topic, Barrow said, "Why not get in a word with Admiral Flint? Tell him we need more resources. The security department in particular."

"And jump over Graham's head?" Sheila said. "I've already told the Commander. Whether he mentions it to the Admiral is up to him. There's a chain of command, you know." Digging into her lukewarm pasta, the hare reminded, "And I outrank you ... lieutenant."

"That's 'doctor' to you, lieutenant-commander. I have the authority to relieve you of duty if I feel you're physically or mentally unfit."

"And how would you certify this 'fitness'?"

"Oh, I think you're familiar with my foolproof methods." Barrow was flirting, now. For real.

But just then, Sheila got an alert about something suspicious in the security office. Something which had turned out to be her rival Advent. Which had led to a whole litany of much angrier complaints when she'd gotten back the second time.

Needless to say, Barrow hadn't gotten to bite her that night ...

Back in the present, Barrow said, "I didn't know the Admiral was attending a senior staff meeting. Figured he'd just have a private meeting with Graham." The blue-furred bat gave his innocent friend a toothy grin. "Guess sleeping with the first officer keeps you in the loop, huh?"

Herkimer's ears blushed. "She ... she just happened to mention it," the mouse said, of his mate Talkeetna.

"In bed?"

"No!" The mouse paused, mumbling, "In the shower this morning ... "

Barrow laughed.

As they approached the pull-apart sliding door, the bat's telepathic feelers detected something. No, not something. Someone.

Advent!

With a start, Barrow swept a wing-arm out to block Herkimer's path through the door. How was he going to break this to his best friend? He was so looking forward to meeting Admiral Flint. Would he still want to attend the briefing with his hostile ex in the room?

The mouse's eyes went wide with concern. "What's wrong? Are you okay ... ?"

"I'm fine, buddy. Um." The bat wasn't sure how to say this. "Look, there's something I didn't tell you ... "

Razor-sharp claws digging into the edge of the conference table, Advent's intense, golden gaze followed Herkimer as he walked to the opposite end. The mouse, shepherded by Barrow, refused to look at her. But his body language made it abundantly clear: he knew she was here. And more than that, she was in his head.

The pure prey energy he was giving off excited the deepest parts of the jaguar. Her blood surged with a heady mixture of need and violence that couldn't be properly explained other than 'instinct.' Most people were fit to control theirs, not wanting to lose themselves to their feral natures. Not wanting to risk falling out with society.

Advent wasn't most people.

The jaguar's nose flared.

She could smell him! Even from across the room. He must've been able to smell her, too. How could he not? All those good times they'd had? Her on top of him, pinning him down. His head between her legs. Oh, he knew her scent. The jaguar had no doubt about that.

She'd claimed him in the most intimate ways possible. Why was he pretending otherwise? Why was he pretending there still wasn't something between them?

She'd been his protector. He belonged to her, and he'd betrayed her. Plain and simple.

Look at me ...

Herkimer sat down next to Talkeetna. The red squirrel put a paw on his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze and leaning into whisper something into his ear.

What was she saying to him?

Is it about me?

Herkimer nodded and touched his nose to the squirrel's cheek.

What does she have that I don't?

With her sugary sweet ear tufts, impossibly bushy tail, and warm, vivid fur, TK was the definition of perky and 'cutesy.' It made Advent want to gag. Can't believe she's one rung away from running this whole place. Advent's claws began to leave permanent marks in the tabletop.

"If you so much as lay a paw on him," Sheila whispered from the seat to Advent's right, "I'll forget my pistol has a stun setting."

Advent knew the hare wasn't bluffing. But that didn't stop her from trying to make her case. Keeping her voice lowered, the jaguar replied, "He loved me. You can all help him pretend it never happened, but I was there."

"Did you love him, too? Or did you just like the idea of him loving you?"

"I would've done anything to protect him. He was mine."

"That's not a 'yes'," Sheila accused. "You protected him so you could keep using him for your own amusement. His pleasure was incidental. You never treated him like an equal," Sheila accused.

Advent balked at the notion. "There was always going to be an imbalance. I'm a jungle cat. He's a mouse."

"I've seen interspecies relationships thrive. There's several on Reverie. A bear and chipmunk. A wolverine and possum."

"How quaint."

"It requires give-and-take, but it can work. But all you know how to do is take, don't you? It's always about you. You don't want him back because you miss him," Sheila said of Herkimer. "You want him back because he broke it off. He took the ultimate power in your relationship. And to see him so happy with someone else? It's like there's a knife in your controlling back."

"Careful, hare," Advent said, in an eerily calm whisper that sizzled with an undercurrent of white-hot anger. "A pistol's only useful if you can aim it in time."

But Sheila didn't let up. If the jaguar wanted to claw her, she was welcome to try. The hare was legitimately angry and not willing to pull her punches, especially with her longtime rival who more than had it coming.

She continued, "Herkimer was on his first true deep-space assignment, vulnerable, lonely ... a sweet mouse like him, and you took advantage of that. You made him emotionally rely on you, and you repaid it by treating him like a scratching post."

"That's a lie ... "

"I saw the cuts and bruises! My mate is the one who patched him up."

Advent fumed. "You're prey, too. You all are. Every goddamn one of you," she said, of the entire room. "Don't you dare fucking judge me!"

The girls' whispered conversation had become a bit louder. More than a bit. Everyone was looking their way. Except Herkimer, of course. He was too afraid.

Sheila nodded at the others. "Nothing to see here!" she announced in her best crowd control tone.

Advent withdrew her claws from the table. Her breathing was audible, even with her jaw clenched shut.

"Is there?" Sheila said to Advent.

The jaguar, offering no comment, was spared further humiliation when Commander Graham, Ambassador Annika, and Admiral Flint entered the room together.

The crew stood to attention.

Advent remained seated.

"As you were." Flint nodded warmly at the assembled. Gesturing at Graham and Annika, he said, "Your superiors were giving me a proper tour of the station. The before and after is quite remarkable. What was once an empty husk is now an important, thriving outpost, one of the most important we have. You're all to be commended."

The group broke into a light applause.

Advent rolled her eyes.

"How long will you be staying, sir?" Seldovia asked. The glamorous skunk, a deposed princess, was sitting next to her mate, Seward. The snow rabbit was the station's chief engineer.

"My ship back home doesn't arrive for another week. It'll be carrying a ton of supplies and even some new crewmembers to help your more taxed departments," Flint said.

Barrow looked to Sheila, who nodded with satisfaction.

"However," Flint said, letting the word hang in the air for a bit. "I've recently been given some disturbing information about pirate activities in the area ... "

"By who?" Sheila wanted to know. It couldn't have been Advent. Sheila had told Graham, but they weren't going to tell the Admiral until this meeting.

"I'm afraid I can't divulge that. Classified," the Admiral said, with an air of authority. "However, it's enough to properly prepare for what we'll be facing. ."

"Which is?" Talkeetna asked, squirrelly tail-tip fluffing behind her head.

"An all-out assault on the station."

There were squeaks and mews and murmurs.

Flint held up both his paws, silencing the room. "The pirates are getting desperate. They know our mission here has been a success. They see that we've made friends with the Syndicate." Flint gestured to Advent, who officially had a Syndicate commission. It was the only reason she was still allowed on the station after her rap sheet of antics. Diplomatic immunity. "This is their last chance to stop us. And they'll throw everything they have our way."

"It can't be a coincidence that we now have these dragon artifacts onboard," Barrow said.

"Likely not."

"When's the attack going to happen?" Seward asked. "Will your ship arrive before then? I'm expecting materials to upgrade the torpedo tubes on the upper pylons."

"We don't have a timeline for the attack just yet. Could be a few days. Or a few weeks. But I would proceed as if your only defenses will be existing ones."

As the meeting went on and Flint offered more details, Advent started to lean forward. She forgot about how punchable Sheila's tall-eared face was and how Herkimer was fooling everyone with his victim act. Some of Flint's information was extremely specific and correlated with hers in a way that would only be possible if the sources came from the same place: the pirates themselves.

Advent had gotten her info from fake Arem. Where'd he get his from? Classified? Why would the source be classified if the information obtained wasn't? It's not like the crew would out the source. They were too goody-good for that.

Something's not right ...

I know when I'm being played.

When the meeting was over, Advent left immediately. The Redwing bunch all hated her, anyway. Their minds were made up. Why pretend otherwise for the sake of politeness? Screw them.

Sheila, who'd stayed behind, thought about going after her, but instead said, "Minuet ... "

The computer chirruped.

"Keep an eye on her for me, will you? Make sure she doesn't cause any trouble."

Sheila had no idea what the jaguar's next move would be. Advent had claimed to have a 'pet' onboard the Syndicate vessel she served on. But, then, she'd also claimed there were spies and assassins onboard the same ship, lying in wait to kill her at fake Arem's command. Would she go back? Or stay on Redwing?

Maybe she'd have to assign a security officer to her, too.

"I will alert you if I detect the possibility of mayhem," the computer promised.

Sheila nodded and jogged after Seward, who had just left with Seldovia in tow. Sheila needed to talk to the engineer about establishing a forcefield grid around important areas of the station in case they were boarded.

Herkimer lingered behind, quietly standing a step or two away from the trio of high-ranking snow rabbits. Admiral Flint was pointing at Annika's rounded belly and asking her when she was due.

"I've a couple of months yet."

"Is it your first?"

"Go on," Barrow whispered to Herkimer, giving the mouse a winged nudge.

Herkimer squeaked. How long had Barrow been standing behind him?

Admiral Flint looked past Graham and Annika and offered a light smile to the mouse. "Is there something I can help you with, Lieutenant? I notice you were the only one who didn't say anything during the meeting."

Herkimer nodded. Though that had as much to do with Advent's presence as it did being too shy to speak up. "Sorry, sir. I just ... I just wanted to say how much I admired you, sir. I mean ... I mean, that I think you're doing a good job with the fleet."

Amused by the flattery, Flint said, "If you're wanting a promotion, it's Commander Graham you'll have to butter up."

Annika came to the mouse's rescue, explaining to Flint, "Herkimer is our Operations officer. He plans out mission specifications for us."

"Is that so? Well ... you're doing a fine job of it." Flint stepped forward and extended a snow-white paw.

Herkimer slowly extended his.

The Admiral grasped and shook it. "Keep up the good work!" he said.

Herkimer beamed. "Oh, I will! Thank you, sir!" He took over the shaking and kept moving the Admiral's arm up and down.

Barrow, seeing the mouse had short-circuited, pulled him back and told the others, "Maybe I'll take him to the infirmary."

Flint chuckled. When they were gone, he told the two remaining rabbits, "You have a good crew! I've always said that a crew is only as good as the example their leaders set. If you have a bad leader, it can sour everyone's attitude. But that's clearly not the case here. You've been the perfect appointee for this position," Flint told Graham. "Top-rate job."

"Thank you, sir," Graham said, bowing his head in deference to his superior.

"But when we have talent like yours at paw, we don't want it sitting in the far reaches, do we? We could use officers like you closer to home."

Graham lifted his muzzle, ears standing tall. He exchanged a glance with Annika. He knew what was coming next. They both did.

"There's a captaincy opening up," Flint affirmed. "The Saltair. Tundra-Class. She's a fine ship."

"I'm sure she is." Graham stood a little taller. Though Flint still had a few inches on him. "What led to the opening?"

"The previous captain recently ran for a spot on the High Command Council, representing her home planet. She was successful. So, you aren't shoving anyone out! The position has been willingly vacated."

"I see." Graham paused. "Still, I don't want to step on the toes of the Saltair's second-in-command."

"They were only promoted to Commander a month ago. I can't be elevating them to Captain already."

Graham said nothing.

Sensing his hesitation, Flint tilted his head and assured, "You'll be able to bring the Ambassador with you, of course." Looking to Annika, he added, "You can keep your rank. The Saltair's mission is multi-purpose. There's always room for a diplomat."

"I'm very pleased to here that," the doe said.

Flint looked back to Graham. "Then it's settled!"

"Yes." In theory, it was. Graham knew he couldn't turn this down. Captaincies didn't open every day. It was what everyone who entered the service dreamed of, right? Heading a starship? "But I must ask, Admiral, who would be taking command of Redwing in my absence?"

"Your first officer, Talkeetna ... she didn't attend the Academy, did she?"

"No, sir. She's a UT native." The squirrel's commission was a 'field commission.'

Flint exhaled regrettably. "This is such an important posting. It would be breaking decades of precedent to appoint someone who never even attended a satellite campus! I may make the final choices on command-level postings, but the Council still scrutinizes them, and I serve at their behest. Pleasing them takes priority. Would your officer understand this?"

"I suspect she would. However," Graham said, taking a deep breath, "I won't feel right taking the promotion if she's not my replacement. She deserves it, sir. She's ready."

Flint gave the other snow rabbit a careful look-over.

Graham held his ground. If the brass wanted him that badly, Flint would have no choice but to acquiesce.

Sure enough, Flint said, "Perhaps we can meet halfway and institute a 'transition' period? Talkeetna can take remote Academy courses via holo-suite. Enough to earn a basic degree. That will take a year, perhaps? Maybe a little less if she's truly devoted. And your baby," the Admiral said, gesturing at Annika, "will have been born and be old enough to not be jarred by a long-distance move. Another chair will be open up by then." The admiral paused, saying, "And you'll sit in it." It was an order.

"Yes, sir."

Flint smiled lightly and nodded. "Good! Now, I have to work on some things in my quarters. I'll see you both later? For dinner?"

"Yes, of course. I have to take care of some things in Ops in the meantime," Graham said.

Flint strode off, leaving Graham and Annika alone.

"A year is fair," Annika said. "It will give the crew time to come to terms with the change. And ourselves, as well. Give us time to adapt to the prospect of moving on. It's better than immediate transfer."

"I know." Graham walked to a curved window. He looked out at the stars. "It's been a long time since I've been home, though."

"I was not born on our ancestral Home-world," Annika reminded. "But I know what you mean."

"I guess our baby won't be, either. Born there, that is."

"Does that bother you?" Annika asked him.

"It just makes me appreciate how, this far from our origins, in a universe this big ... I managed to meet you. If I believed in miracles, I would classify that as one."

The doe answered with a kiss.

"Minuet," Advent said, asking for the computer. The jaguar had returned to her guest quarters and was sprawled in a feline fashion on the floor, staring at the ceiling. Her fluffy tail flicked back and forth.

"Yes?" the disembodied voice asked.

"Where's your holographic interface? I don't like talking to a bulkhead."

An idealistically beautiful female snow rabbit shimmered into view, dressed in a High Command uniform. "What do you require?"

"Your assistance."

Minuet tilted her head. "You need help standing back up? Is that why you are on the floor?"

"I was sprawling."

"I see ... "

"Sheila's having you spy on me, isn't she?" Advent asked, skipping further niceties.

"What makes you think that?" the holo-rabbit asked.

"Cause she doesn't trust me."

"Should she?"

Advent rolled over onto her belly and grinned, pushing herself to her knees. "What have you told her so far? Anything juicy?"

"You tried to infect me with a fatal computer virus shortly after my reactivation," Minuet deflected with a frown.

Advent waved a paw. "Water under the bridge."

"For you, maybe. My memory is perfect. I remember it like it just happened."

"Consider it a good slap to the face. You were cranky as hell after your half-a-millennia sleep. You were gonna kill all 'organics,' remember? Someone had to stop you. The crew didn't have the nerve, so it fell to me."

Advent stood up, flexing her intricately spotted arms over her head. "Looks like it all worked out. I mean, you're well-adjusted now, and sporting this ... lovely bobtail here." She began to circle the hologram.

Minuet turned with her, following her every step.

"Thanks to my 'tough love,' you've even got yourself a real-life boyfriend. How's that work, exactly?" Advent stopped moving. "You can tell me. Girl to girl. When he cums in your ... avatar," she said, gesturing not-so-subtly, "where does it go when you turn it off?"

"My relationship with Adak has nothing to do with you," the A.I. said, of the station's young stellar cartographer. And also not answering the jaguar's juvenile question. "You will not approach him in any fashion."

"Relax. He's not worth my time."

Minuet frowned again.

"Now, since we've established that I helped you out once ... "

"Once," the A.I. stressed.

"Perhaps you can return the favor?"

"You wish me to slap you in the face?" Minuet stepped forward, eagerly raising a snowy paw.

Advent's arms dropped, claws unsheathing as her arms spread to a defensive posture. "What the ... no!" The cat took a deep breath. She wasn't going to be flustered by a collection of 0's and 1's. "I need to know," she said, as serenely as possible, "about Admiral Flint's whereabouts since he arrived on the station. Everyone he met with. Everyone he talked to, in person or remotely."

"Why?"

"I believe his 'classified' source is nearby. Maybe even right under our noses. I want to know who it is."

"Why?"

"Because," Advent stressed, aggravation returning. "And, if I'm wrong, and there's nothing to find ... you can tell Sheila all about it. But if I'm right?"

"Then I will still tell Sheila."

"We'll see about that," the jaguar insisted.

Minuet, already accessing her surveillance database, noted the gleam in the jaguar's eyes, and how if she were 'organic' it would send a shiver up her spine.

Captain Aria was respected by her entire crew.

The snow rabbit was tough but fair. Passionate and cerebral. Throughout the High Command, the former security chief was quickly gaining a reputation for intelligence, strength, and poise. Her starship, Arctic, was one of the most advanced tactical cruisers in the fleet, as well as the first line of defense for Redwing Station.

She was currently being spit-roasted in bed.

Aria mewed as her muzzle was stuffed with rabbit cock. Sliding past her rounded lips and over her tongue and taste buds, the rigid organ throbbed with masculine power. Over six inches, dribbling from the tip.

Its owner, Elim, Arctic's first officer, reached down with his paws to gently grip the bases of Aria's charcoal-fringed ears, effectively keeping her from pulling back. "Careful with those buckteeth," he said, already beginning to move himself back and forth. His flesh glistening with her saliva, Elim thrust against the doe's face, his white, fuzzy balls slapping at her chin.

The helpless captain groaned. An affirmation, not just of Elim, but the figure on his knees behind her. Aria was in no position to turn her head to watch him, but it was Ross, the mouse who ran the ship's mess hall. Like the two rabbits, he was fully naked.

"Raise your tail," Ross breathed in his light, squeaky voice.

Aria flicked her furry flame upward.

Furless paws on her curved hips, the rodent lined himself up and penetrated the snow rabbit's sex. He was too impatient to tease her. He needed her now. Ross wasn't as long as Elim, but he was thicker, and Aria felt every bit of him. Her wet, silken walls instinctively hugged his shaft.

The mouse huffed, eyes hooding. He pulled back and started humping. He didn't let up.

Nor did Elim.

"Mmf!" Aria went, body rocking back and forth between the see-sawing males, on all fours between their rutting bodies.

"Hah ... ah, Ross," Elim panted, letting go of Aria's ears and reaching over the top of her. A paw wound up on the mouse's neck, his nape, white fingers curling in the other's brown fur. Elim desperately pulled the mouse forward.

Ross swooned, going where guided.

Leaning over Aria, Elim surrounded the mouse's lips with his own, giving him an intensely passionate, suckling kiss. He even threw in some tongue.

Ross, nose twitching, ears rosy-red, stopped humping for a second as he became momentarily flummoxed. How could he be so lucky as to be in bed with not one but two amazing rabbits? When their muzzles fell apart, the mouse regained his bearings and his hips motored once more.

Slick-slick-slap!

"Mmh ... "

"Huh!"

Aria, beneath them, swirled her own tongue against the underside of Elim's shaft, making sure to catch the ridge of his glans each time he pulled back. She could feel him starting to 'jump.' Faint, little twitches, but it meant he was close.

Elim, ears twiddling, suddenly lost focus, both mentally and physically. He stopped thrusting into Aria's muzzle. His chest pushed out, head tossing back. "Hah ... ah, ah, AH!"

Elim came.

Aria closed her throat to catch it all. Even after she swallowed, it began seeping out of her maw, dribbling down her chin and to the sheets. She swallowed again. Then she got dizzy, slapping a paw on Elim's hip.

The buck knew this was his 'withdraw' signal, and he did so, his dripping, twitching cock flopping out of her.

"Oh ... oh," Aria panted, her front end sinking down to the sheets. Head on the sheets, she was drooling. Her back half was still raised in the air, and Ross was doubling down, pounding her pussy, trying to finish both him and her.

Aria toppled first.

The doe's sex erupted in vice-like, milking spasms, the tremors of orgasm shaking her entire essence. She swore she saw stars, and not the ones outside the windows. "Oh!" she cried, even louder than before.

"Ah! AH!" Ross squeaked, going to a hilt and hanging his head as he shot his seed. His brown-furred body shuddered with bliss, and he stayed inside her even after he was done.

Eventually, he pulled out, flopping to the bed with a spent, squeaky sigh.

Aria laid herself in the center of the bed to the mouse's left.

Elim snuggled to the left of them both.

Their three heads on the bed's downy pillows, side-by-side-by-side, Aria extended a paw to each of them.

They both laced their fingers with hers.

"My boys," Aria breathed lovingly, turning her head to kiss one and then the other.

"My mates," Elim replied, grabbing for Ross's long, ropy tail.

"My rabbits," was Ross's sweet whisper.

The polyamorous trio cuddled quietly for a few minutes more, a warm fur-pile.

A comm-chirrup interrupted the afterglow.

"Bridge to Aria."

It was Ensign Kaplan, the youngest member of the senior staff.

"Here," Aria answered, clearing her throat. "What is it?"

"We're receiving a distress call," the snow rabbit buck said. "From the freighter Reverie. They're on their way to Redwing and are under attack from pirates."

"How soon can we get to their location?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Can they last that long?" Aria asked, wanting more information. A good captain was always detail oriented.

"They're currently undergoing evasive maneuvers. Their shield emitters are junk, frankly, but they have ablative hull armor. However, they're outnumbered four to one. It'll be close ... "

Aria's jaw clenched. "Send them a message saying we're on the way. All subspace channels. When the pirates hear it, too, maybe they'll run early. If not, we'll kick their tails. Set a course and engage. I'll be on the bridge in fifteen minutes."

"Aye, m'am."

The channel was cut.

Aria sat up, climbing over Elim and hopping out of bed. Her naked backside was displayed to the two males, tail flickering. She was very much in shape. Once a security officer, always a security officer. "We should shower together," she told her first mate, looking over her shoulder.

Elim nodded and got up, moving past her and into the bathroom.

Then, to Ross, Aria said, "We'll see you in a few hours." She turned around to face the mouse directly, her breasts hanging freely.

Ross nodded quietly, remaining in bed.

The ship was going into combat. It often did. It was designed to. And his mates were going to lead the charge. Ross knew they were capable, maybe the best in the fleet, but he worried about them getting hurt. He didn't know what he'd do if ...

"We'll be fine, mousey," Elim promised, popping back into view and seeing the look on his face.

"My legs are still shaking from the pleasure you gave me," Aria added tenderly. "We love you."

Ross blushed, trying not to smile. "I love you, too." He met both their gazes as he said it. Though he'd fallen in love with Aria first, it wouldn't be fair to choose between her and Elim. The mouse rubbed at his cheeks and mumbled, "You both better, uh, hurry and get cleaned up."

The two rabbits didn't argue that. They hopped to the bathroom, getting into the sonic shower. How Ross wished he could join them! But then they'd probably be late.

When they were gone, he'd clean up on his own. He had to get back to the mess hall to prep the crew's evening meal.

Closing his eyes, the mouse wondered: what should I make for dessert?

On the bridge, Elim's clawed fingers danced over the tactical controls. Dapper and composed, the snow rabbit showed no signs that he'd been in the throes of a heated threesome with the ship's captain just half an hour ago.

"Reverie is leaking plasma from its starboard nacelle," he announced. "Their impulse engines are fluctuating." The computer beeped an alert. "They still have full thrusters, but that's not sufficient to outmaneuver the pirates."

"Shields?"

"Gone."

"They're trying to disable her so they can force their way aboard," Aria said, squinting at the main viewscreen. "Destroying Reverie doesn't do them any good." Less loot that way.

"Agreed. But I doubt they care about the crew," Elim said.

Aria nodded, understanding the implication. If the freighter was boarded, the crew would be executed.

The doe left her chair in the bridge's center and strode to the helm console. She put her paws on the back of the pilot's chair. "Mirabelle," she said, "move us between the pirates and the freighter." Looking over her shoulder to Elim, she didn't have to give the order. Just a look.

"Torpedoes loaded. Phase canons ready," Elim confirmed.

Before Arctic could fire, however, the pirates began to strafe its primary hull with green energy bolts. They lanced out from prongs on the front of the pirate ships. Arctic's shield grid glowed ethereal blue.

"Shields at eighty-eight percent."

The deck shook, and everyone grabbed onto something.

Sparks flew from a console in the back.

"Seventy-seven."

Aria stumbled back to her chair, activating the seatbelt. Strapped in, she gripped the armrests. "Time to kick back. Elim?"

Elim unloaded Arctic's weapons on the lead pirate ship. Cobalt-blue beams flung from multiple canon ports.

The lead vessel veered off.

"They're hoping we follow them," Aria observed. To Mirabelle, she ordered, "Hold position."

Reverie, meanwhile, used its thrusters to keep as close to Arctic as it could without running into her.

A second ship made a direct run at Arctic, and Elim, with laser-like precision, deterred it. Shields were down to sixty percent. "I don't like sitting still this long," he told Aria. It wasn't in his prey instincts.

"We're not here to protect ourselves," Aria reminded.

Elim nodded, beginning to feel some tension in his muscles. "Firing high-yield torpedoes ... now." He looked up at the viewer as sparkling blue spheres shot away from the ship and honed on the nearest enemy signature.

Smash!

A torpedo made contact. The pirate ship reeled, tumbling end over end.

"Don't destroy them," Aria said.

Elim nodded, unleashing torpedoes on the rest of the hostiles.

Kaplan, monitoring communications between all ships, said, "They're calling off the attack."

Sure enough, two pirate ships immediately warped away. The third activated a tractor beam on the fourth before doing the same.

"Where are they headed?" Aria asked Elim.

"They're joining some friends." Elim overlapped his sensor readings onto the main viewscreen.

"That looks like a fleet!" Mirabelle exclaimed from the helm.

"How many ships?" Aria asked quietly.

"At least thirty. Long-range sensors are picking up more signatures headed toward them. Doesn't look like the whole party's convened yet."

One thing at a time ...

"Kaplan, open a channel to Captain Peregrine," Aria said, of her Reverie counterpart.

The young buck tried and shook his head. "Their comms are down."

"Lifesigns?"

"All accounted for. Though several have moved to the location of their sickbay. I'd say they took some injuries."

"Engineering," Aria called. "What's the status of Reverie's key systems?"

Oliver, the snow rabbit chief, responded, "Aside from their communications array, their engines are offline. And we're not talking hours from being repaired. More like days. They'll need to be tractored back to Redwing."

"How fast can we go with them in tow?"

Assumpta, a striking, cool-headed snow leopard who was assistant-chief (and also happened to be Oliver's mate), injected with, "They'll slow us by half."

"Then we best leave as soon as possible."

"Captain," Assumpta added. "Permission to take a shuttlepod to Reverie? We can have a team stay there and start working on their repairs during the journey."

"I don't see any issue with that. Take a medical officer with you."

"Aye," the snow leopard said, cutting the channel.

"Elim, learn everything you can about that fleet. Send it to my ready room as soon as you do. Kaplan, get me in touch with Commander Graham on Redwing." They had a lot to talk about.

"We're on our way back to the station, now," Aria told Graham, over a secure subspace channel. "We'd be there in a couple of hours at maximum speed, but with Reverie in tow it'll take us closer to a day."

"And the pirates?" Graham asked. The snow rabbit was seated behind the desk in his office, overlooking Redwing's Operations Center. Through the windows, Seldovia would be seen talking someone's ears off. Annika came to their rescue.

"Their fleet is still amassing. Judging by our scans, the stragglers will be there in two days. Should top out around fifty ships." Aria let that hang before continuing, "They're slower than us, so it'll take then that long to reach Redwing."

"Four days to prepare for an all-out assault?" Talkeetna asked, blowing out a breath. The rodent was standing behind Graham's left shoulder, her bushy tail fluttering at the news.

"Better than nothing," Graham reasoned. "And we've known there's been a risk, so we're not completely unprepared."

Talkeetna nodded, her whiskers twitching. She went through the actions they'd need to take. "We'll have to lockdown, if not evacuate, the civilian population. Double or triple security around the dragon artifacts."

"I'll contact the Syndicate," Graham said. "They have several vessels still in the system. I know Marcus will help us. So, that's them, Arctic ... the station itself. Beyond that, I'm not sure where we can get additional reinforcements?"

"The Syndicate can't give us more help? They're our allies, now," TK said.

"Would we send a fleet to help the Syndicate if the pirates were attacking them?" Graham asked fairly.

"Probably not," the squirrel admitted.

"The pirate ships are not better-armed than us," Aria interrupted, showing her pride. "Arctic was outnumbered four to one and our shields were still at sixty percent. And that was _without_performing any evasive maneuvers. If we're moving around, combined with Redwing's massive armaments? They have better numbers. But if we have a smart strategy, we can defeat them."

"Your confidence is inspiring, Captain," Graham said with a light smile.

Aria bowed her head and asked, "Is Admiral Flint still onboard?"

"Yes. The starship he's heading back home on isn't due 'til next week. He's going to be here for the big show."

"That's unfortunate," Aria said, furrowing her brow. "Is Luminous still at the border, by chance?"

"No, she's not. Solstice is. We can call her into the fight, but that would leave that segment of the border unguarded."

"It's worth the risk. Conscript them," Aria ordered, outranking Graham. Back to the topic of the Admiral, she said, "I feel it's awfully convenient this attack will coincide with Flint's visit. You said you caught a spy, once?"

"Once," Graham emphasized, of the chameleon Sheila had uncovered.

"There's rumors the Scalie Solidarity is feeding the pirates with weapons."

"I've heard that. There's been no indication there are more spies currently onboard."

"I'm going to invite the Admiral to move onto my ship once we arrive. No offense, but I feel Arctic is more secure. Less people coming and going."

"As you wish," Graham said. While part of him wanted to defend the station's honor, he wasn't going to pick a fight right now. They had bigger issues to deal with.

"We'll see you soon," Aria said, cutting the channel.

Now that they were alone, Talkeetna admitted to Graham, "She's so ... intense."

"It suits her role. Arctic isn't a science vessel, after all." Turning to his first officer, Graham said, "And she's right: if we do our jobs, we'll get out of this."

The squirrel nodded in agreement, moving to leave the office.

"Admiral Flint offered me a promotion today," Graham said, not knowing how else to break the news but to blurt it out.

TK stopped, spinning around. "Oh? Wow. Did ... did you take it?"

"Only with a caveat."

The red squirrel tilted her head.

"He was hesitant about promoting you to full Commander ... unless you would be willing to get an Academy degree. Remotely, of course. You wouldn't have to leave the station to do it. But to advance into a command-level position, it's a barrier you'll need to cross. Not just here, but anywhere in the fleet."

"Me?" the squirrel said. "In charge of the whole station?"

"There would be a transition period while you earned your degree. The changeover wouldn't happen for another year, but ... I felt it had to be you," Graham said, leaving his chair. He rounded his desk to stand before his first officer.

TK's tail stood at full mast. "Thank you, sir."

"You know this place. You know this region. A station isn't like a starship. There are a lot of civilians involved, and one has to have a certain comfort level with the locals. I've seen how you interact with people. Everyone likes you. They trust you. Redwing is a home. And I know I'll be leaving it in good paws."

Talkeetna beamed, rubbing her cheeks with her paws. A very rodent gesture. "I don't know what to say ... I ... we're all going to miss you!"

Graham gave a warm nod. It was his turn to say, "Thank you."

"Annika will be going with you, I presume?"

"Yes."

"When I tell Herkimer, I think he might freak out," Talkeetna joked.

"You can tell Herkimer, of course. But let's otherwise keep it quiet until after we've dealt with the crisis at paw? Like I said, it's a year off. No reason it should be a distraction right now."

"Of course," the squirrel agreed. She smiled at Graham and impulsively hugged the snow rabbit.

Graham returned it.

Eventually pulling back, Talkeetna scampered out of the office. There was so much work to be done!

As for telling Herkimer about the promotion-in-waiting, she'd wait 'til they were both fully off-duty. She had a feeling the form of their celebration might require some lengthy 'alone' time.

Aurora entered Flint's quarters, the doors swishing shut behind her.

The Admiral had an armed security detail now. Two tall pieces of muscle with big, phallic pistols had turned her away when she'd tried to come in. The hypnotic mouse had pouted, looking into their eyes. With hers. Her swirling, colorful eyes. So pretty.

They'd realized their error and let her in.

Flint looked up from the desk he was at, blinking in surprise. "Aurora?"

"You in hiding or something?" the white-furred mouse asked, pink tail arcing behind her. "You weren't answering my calls. I thought you could use some company." She paused, for emotional effect, doing her best to sound worried. "I keep hearing there's going to be an attack on the station?"

Aurora, as usual, knew more than she was letting on. She'd even managed to get hold of the news that Aria had delivered to Graham: the pirates would be here in four days. And Flint wouldn't be leaving the station before then.

This was a problem for the mouse.

A big problem.

She was in the process of betraying the pirates. Maybe they'd anticipated that? They'd sent her to the station knowing full well they'd attack it while she was still there. Bottom line: they wanted her dead, and she needed to leave. Now.

"I'm not sure you should be here," Flint said as diplomatically as possible. "I have much to prepare for. You said you came on a ship? You should leave before things get rough."

"And abandon my pet? Without so much as saying goodbye?" Aurora replied, eyes beginning to glow. "What kind of Mistress would I be if I did that?"

"I, uh? You ... " Caught in the gravity of her eyes, the Admiral found it hard to focus on anything. Except her. "You'd ... " The sentence floated away. All of his thoughts were evaporating in the heat of her presence.

"Look at that face," she cooed, booping a fingertip on his nose.

"H-huhhh ... ?"

"Let your dumb bunny brain empty out, pet. There's only room for me."

"Only ... you ... "

"That's right," Aurora said, casually undressing. Wrapping a powerful male around her finger? It was such a turn-on. She tossed her bra, breasts flopping free. "You, too," she chided, gesturing with her tail. "Let's go."

"Yes, Mistress," the snow rabbit said, also removing his clothes.

When they were both naked, Aurora got in his lap. A straddle, arms around his neck. She leaned her forehead to his, eyes washing over him like supernovas. "Now, pet, I have to leave you for a while ... but I'm going to leave a trigger in your little bunny brain, okay?" She didn't know where she'd be going or what she'd be doing once she left Redwing, but she needed a fallback plan, something secure and stable.

"If I'm at the end of my rope, I'll send you a coded sub-space message. You'll know it's from me, and you'll open it. It'll provide coordinates of wherever I happen to be at the time. You'll send a ship, and you'll have it bring me back to you no matter where you are."

"Yes, Mistress," the powerful rabbit said, rubbing his seven-inch cock parallel her folds.

"That's not all, pet ... in order to leave the station?" Aurora cooed, grinding her hips against his, working closer and closer to getting his shaft aligned with her passage. "I'll need a ship. I was thinking a runabout? They're bigger than a shuttle. Faster. But still small enough to hide."

"Good choice, Mistress ... "

"I'll need access codes. The landing pad requires command-level codes ... " Both to get in and activate the runabout's power core.

The snow rabbit pushed himself into the mouse, unable to hold back, unable to resist her. His want for her was all-consuming. "I will ... give you the codes ... "

"Oh," Aurora moaned, arching her back and steering his cock around. Then she began to bounce, crying out, "I knew I could count on you!"

An hour later, Aurora looked up and down the corridor. Coast was clear. Bidding goodbye to the subdued guards, the mouse left the Admiral's quarters, freshly showered. It wouldn't help to have Flint's scent all over her.

The mouse headed for one of the docking pads. Docking Pad C. There was a full complement of runabouts there. She took the 'scenic' route so no one would stop her.

Along the way, she heard something. Or maybe 'felt' it?

Something was wrong.

What was that?

She spun around.

Nothing ... ?

The soothingly-lit corridor was empty. The hum of the station's power core provided low-level white nose. But, beyond that, nothing was out of place. No clinks, clanks, or clunks. Just her own heightened breathing.

Aurora wasn't the paranoid type. But, then, she _normally_didn't have an admiral in her thrall, did she? Most of the people she'd hypnotized in the past were pirates or nobodies. Not that she hadn't enjoyed them, but Flint was a whole new pedigree. And that brought greater risks if she were caught.

Aurora kept walking, bare foot-paws barely making a sound on the thin, carpeted deck plating. Quiet as a mouse, listening, whiskers sensitive to every vibration in the air.

There it was again ...

Something.

But what?

Aurora was sure someone was stalking her.

A rich, purring voice confirmed the suspicion by saying, "Turn around ... slowly ... "

Aurora did so.

"Raise your paws."

The mouse lifted her arms, revealing her lack of weapons. She then lowered them and demanded, "Who are you? What do you want?"

"I'm Advent." The spotted jaguar grinned with wild menace. "I don't believe we've met."

"Maybe we should keep it that way," Aurora replied immediately, turning to leave.

Advent cut off her prey's escape, moving between her and the lift. "I think you'll find we have a lot to talk about."

"You have no authority over me," said Aurora, her eyes glowing. Bright, beautiful, nebulous. They swirled with color, looking directly into the feline's golden orbs.

Advent stared back, unflinching.

Aurora felt something she rarely, if ever, felt. Vulnerability.

The hypnosis wasn't working. Why wasn't it working? Her eyes worked on everyone else! The mouse's whiskers stiffened, and she started to back away.

Advent quickly maneuvered with her, expertly altering the mouse's retreat so that she inadvertently backed up into a bulkhead.

Aurora squeaked, scolding herself for being outplayed and cornered.

"You'll find my mind isn't as feeble as the pushovers you're used to," Advent said, unsheathing her claws. "Probably because I'm not saddled with a penis."

Aurora looked past the jungle cat, not because she expected to find someone coming to her rescue. But maybe she could plot an avenue of escape? Maybe she could get past her, somehow? "Computer!" Aurora called, about to ask Minuet for a distraction.

"Don't bother. She's with me," Advent said, of the A.I. "Aren't you, Min?" The jaguar glanced at the ceiling for verification.

The computer chirruped and said, with a tone of sheepish reluctance, "As I failed to detect that the admiral was being compromised, my freedom to remain in complete control as station computer would be called into question were the failure to be known. Advent has ... graciously agreed to keep this between ourselves."

It was no secret that the High Command was uncomfortable with an 'alien' intelligence having such unfettered access on one of their most valuable outposts. Minuet didn't want them tampering with her programming.

"How charitable of her," Aurora quipped.

"You, of all people, should sympathize," Advent said, sniffing at the mouse.

"Meaning what?"

"You and I? We both help other people to understand what they need to do ... for us." She kept sniffing. "Mm, I do like how you smell." It reminded her faintly of Herkimer. Aware that she was waxing, the cat said, "Been a while since you've been outwitted, hasn't it? Have you secretly wanted this all along? To meet your match?"

"I've faced tougher."

"Yeah, like my old pal Arem?" Advent said.

"Didn't even know you were acquainted."

"Maybe you can help me track him down."

"So you can kill him?" Aurora guessed.

"Yes," was the blunt, vengeful reply.

"Why should I help you?"

"You never told me your name," Advent said, briefly changing the subject.

"Aurora."

"Well, Aurora, I've got the leverage here. And I'm stronger, too. By a lot. So ... " The jaguar planted her paws against the wall, arms stilted, one on either side of the mouse's shoulders. "I could maul you? That's always fun. Or I could go to hard-ass Sheila and have her arrest you, lock you up for years. Less fun." She paused. "Or ... "

"Or what?" Aurora whispered. She tried her eyes again, attempting to hypnotize her. It was worth a shot, but ... still nothing. Where had the feline gotten such extreme mental discipline? Who had taught her?

Advent's breath washed over Aurora's multi-colored head-fur. The jaguar was close enough to taste her. She held back, but barely. Was there any more diametrically perfect pairing in all of nature than cat and mouse?

Aurora, waiting for the feline to answer her, felt a semblance of fear. Anger, too, at being 'caught by the tail.' But there was more than that. Something else, something about Advent's confidence, her mannerisms, her raw, sensual power? It was magnetic.

Maybe she could use that to turn the tables ...

"Are we just gonna stand here all day?" Aurora finally asked.

Advent replied, "More than you helping me, we can help each other."

"Each other? How?" Aurora echoed, a paw touching the jaguar's spotted arm. Her fingers caressed the cat's limb, gingerly tracing a path down to her wrist. The touch was light-as-air, unmistakably sensual.

Advent purred, a paw going to the mouse's head, stroking down her neck in return. "We both want the same things, don't we? Respect, adoration ... power."

"Surprised to hear you admit that out loud."

"I'm capable of self-reflection," the jaguar defended. "Not that you know anything about me."

"Aren't all cats the same?"

"You do have a mouth on you." Advent grinned dangerously. "Here's an important fact: no one touches me unless I say so."

"But you're touching me."

"I'm an apex predator." Advent dug her claws not the mouse's skin. Hard. Unnervingly close to her jugular. "You're not."

Aurora, giving a chitter of pain, immediately withdrew her paw from the cat. Her pulse was racing, now. The 'fight or flight' sensation had her limbs shaking.

"You smell even better, now," Advent cooed, removing her own paw.

"First things ... first," the mouse said, keeping an even tone, trying to stay toe-to-toe with the bigger female. "How'd you find out?"

"About what? You? Your plans to start a harem of High Command jocks? Admiral Flint gave a pretty detailed account of the pirates' attack plan in the staff briefing this morning. I happened to be there. I heard him repeat information only I was privy to," Advent said.

"Flint had to have gotten it from the same source as me, and since he wasn't anywhere near the pirates ... he got it from someone who was. I had Minuet backtrack Flint's every move since arriving on Redwing. The only person he interacted with, other than his aide and the senior staff, who are all trustworthy squares, was you. And we traced your arrival to a ship whose flight path originated very close to pirate territory."

Advent ended with, "Minuet showed me the surveillance video of him screwing you. I didn't know reflecting pools were a kink."

Aurora tried one last, desperate attempt to wriggle out of this. "What if I gave you someone else in my place?"

"Someone?" Advent squinted with suspicion. She was well-versed in prey bargaining. They'd say or do anything to get out of her clutches.

"Someone's mind you want ... changed? Molded? I can do it. Anyone you want, I can deliver to you. Then you wouldn't need me."

"A bribe?"

"A gift."

Advent scoffed. "Stop it."

"Who?" Aurora repeated, tail wavering lightly. "A name."

Advent exhaled, playing along. "There's a mouse. He used to be mine ... he got away." The way she looked at Aurora as she said this ...

Aurora clicked her tongue on her buckteeth. "Sorry, I don't mess with other mice." She'd seen how her own species had been treated by predators. She'd sworn early on that she wouldn't prey on her own. "Species solidarity. You understand."

"There's always a fucking catch." After a moment, the jaguar added, cynically, "Solidarity is for suckers. There's no such thing as strength in numbers. Sticking together only makes for bigger targets."

"And yet you want me to stick with you?" the mouse accused.

"You're different."

"How?"

"We both know how." Advent's paw cupped the mouse's cheek. "I don't need someone else. I need you. I need ... your talents."

"My hypnosis ... "

"Mm-hmm."

Aurora twisted her head away from the feline's touch. "You gonna pay me?"

"You'll get your rewards."

That sounded very ominous to Aurora. How could that be read as anything other than a threat?

Advent crossed her arms and explained, "When the pirates launch their attack on the station, they'll use nearly every ship they have. They know they'll only have one shot at it, so they'll have to go all in." Beginning to smirk, she added, "Their central depository ... "

"Will only have a skeleton crew left to defend it," Aurora realized. Holy fuck! Her colorful eyes widened. "Maybe one ship, if any!"

"Bingo," Advent said. She nodded, unfolding her arms and saying, of the pirates, "They're such cocky bastards. They'd never fathom that someone would come in the back door when they've all rushed out the front. But I know where the depository is. I've been inside. I know the layout. There's just one thing I don't have."

"Codes," Aurora said.

"Right. The vaults. That's where you and your pretty eyes come in. You'll seduce the guards. Mice are universally non-threatening. You wouldn't be shot on sight like I would. You'll get close, get them in your clutches ... get them to let us in, help us load our ship with loot. Could make it even more fun and screw 'em on-site or take one along as a pet in case we get bored. Possibilities are endless."

"I've just lost a good pet," Aurora lamented, of Flint. For now. She didn't tell Advent about her contingency plan.

"I'm about to lose one, too," Advent said. Tam was still on the Syndicate ship. She couldn't go back for him. "But we won't need them after we raid the pirates' stash. We'll be rich as royalty. We'll be able to buy a heavy cruiser. Not that I want to think that far ahead. Success is about adaptability, and you can't adapt if you over-commit."

"I don't want to spend the rest of my life in the UT," Aurora said.

"Why leave it when you can own it?" Advent pitched. "If you didn't want to sit on the throne, you wouldn't be plumbing brains and riding cocks, would you?"

Aurora didn't respond.

Advent turned and started to walk away, patterned tail swaying lazily.

"Where are you going?" the mouse called in confusion. Was she just going to end it there ... ?

"I assume you were going to steal a runabout?"

"Maybe ... " How was the jaguar always one step ahead? With no telepathy, no mental powers whatsoever?

"Do you know how to fly one?" Advent asked, inspecting her claws.

"I assume they have auto-pilots ... "

"Do you know how to disable the transponder so you won't be tracked?"

The mouse sighed. "No," she grumbled, scrunching her face. "I didn't think the whole plan through. It was improvised. I just wanted to get away."

"Then come with me," Advent beckoned, spreading her paws. "I'll protect you."

Against all her better judgments, Aurora walked to Advent's side and pressed the lift button. The doors swished open. "I'll only go with you if we're equal partners in this," she tried to qualify. She was willing to bet that Advent wanted to screw the pirates more than she wanted to turn her into Sheila.

The jaguar studied her prey. Aurora wasn't as deliciously meek as Herkimer. But she was still a mouse, and the idea of being with one again? It made her wet.

"Do you hear me?" Aurora said, as forcefully as she could.

"Loud and clear," Advent said, not exactly answering the mouse's demands. "Let's go." She entered a lift, holding the doors open for the mouse.

Aurora exhaled and followed her in. What choice did she have? She had to leave this place, and Advent's scheme was pretty ingenious. She didn't trust this feline at all, though. There was only one person the mouse trusted: herself.

When the time comes, I'll end up on top.

Prey always finds a way.