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Charlemagne's Stolen Secret - Part 2 ~A Persephone and Tritonia story~ by Zmeydros (Edited by Tiliquain and Journeymanic)

Walking out of my quarters, I secured the bulkhead and double-checked to ensure it was locked. Hosting a dinner party was a security breach waiting to happen. I went to the quarters I'd grabbed the cucumber from and surveyed the fruits of the effort to convert it into a fine dining space.

LED lights hung from the bunks and the cupboards twinkling softly like stars over POSC banners. Each banner held our emblem, a giant squid holding a trident while protecting a diver. The colors were cyan, navy blue, and silver grey and Gilon, Alphonse, and Persephone had worked those colors into the table settings. The dining table from the quarters next door had been brought in to make it so six to eight people could sit comfortably in the space between the bunks that lined the walls.

Gillon was washing some dishes in the sink while wearing a light yellow apron with cute grey butterflies and frilly white edges. Somehow, he still looked badass in it.

Septimus was leaning over the counter as he organized utensils. His mouse tail was drifting back and forth idly and his round ass was filling his uniform pants well. I shook my head. He had a talent for getting on my nerves and I'd never ever thought of him in that way. It felt so wrong that I turned my attention to Persephone instead.

Persephone finished straightening a stack of pita slices and then walked over to me. "Everything's just about ready. How are you?"

My eyes darted down to Persephone's shark snout and then drifted across her thick powerful tail which was off to her right side hovering just above the floor as she waited for my answer. The memory of her humping back against her tail as I kept it firmly in place with my knee was enough to make my mare snatch wink. I grimaced and pressed my thighs together.

"You okay?" Persephone raised the tip of one of her fan-like ears.

I sighed. "Sorry, still not used to the fact I have a shark hybrid on my team." It was a useful half-truth.

Persephone laughed. "You should have seen Alphonse last night when he bumped into me in the hallway. I thought we were going to have to peel him off the ceiling."

Alphonse stopped spooning basmati from a large rice cooker that took up a quarter of the counter into a fancy tray and looked behind him. "She confuses me so much. Nightmare fuel and attractive curves weren't meant to go together."

"OooOoo Nightmarish dream guu-url, won't you come sit by me-ee?" Abrams sang as he laid out forks on the table, his soft lilting voice a stark contrast to his well-muscled Pacific islander frame. He looked at me, turning pale. "Sorry, ma'am."

"Your singing is always welcome as long as you're not doing it in an improper context," I smiled. He'd distracted me from staring at Persephone and that was a very good thing.

"That would make a great song!" Tsubumi said, her wiry frame a blur as she transferred tabouli to a tray that matched the one Alphonse was filling with rice. So her ear-length straight black hair wouldn't flop in her face while she worked, she'd pinned it back on the sides with two tiny clips that had cyan-spotted dragon designs on them. It was wholly unprofessional, but I'd given up on trying to rein in her cute hair clip fetish.

"I'll see if I can turn that song into more than just a charming chorus." Abrams winked at Tsubumi.

Pepper was off to my right filling the water pitcher with ice. Her hoarse voice hissed out of her damaged trachea. "So glad we got Percy and Alpha out of those sailor uniforms. They look way hotter now."

"And you're hotter with that breathy femme fatale voice," Persephone said.

"Am I gonna have to separate you two?" I narrowed my eyes at Persephone and then Pepper.

"No, we'll be good," Pepper said.

I caught Persephone checking me out when I looked back in her direction and she immediately looked at Pepper, pretending she'd been looking at her all along. I stole a glance at the bulge in Persephone's crotch while her eyes were averted. My crotch was warm, my clit made a tent in my panties, and I could feel twitches across my pussy lips as they became more equine.

It would have been so much more efficient, so much more productive, if it was acceptable behavior to just ask Persephone for a quickie. No awkward preamble, no period of flirting where we wondered whether both of us wanted it. Simple, effective communication between two adults and then, hopefully, some swift and satisfying sex. Toys would never live up to what her prehensile cocks could do. I doubted there was a faster way to get to orgasm. God, I was thinking with my pussy.

Persephone was looking at me with wide eyes. Just how long had I been staring blankly at her crotch!?

Crap! NPO 6295-370-6 had taken all my goddamned dignity. "Don't you think your uniform pants are a bit too tight?"

Her face went from surprise to a light blush. I hoped I'd thrown her off the actual reason for my staring as she said, "No, I just have big ba--" she swallowed the last word and blushed even more.

Why did she have to be adorable? Why did she have to be so damned sexy? Not in a million years would I have ever guessed that a herm anthro shark would make my knees weak. I couldn't tell if it was my new equine libido, genuine curiosity, or a middle-aged lesbian awakening. Whatever it was, it was an unneeded distraction.

"I can get baggier ones if you think I'm showing too much," Persephone offered, thinking my silence was a form of disapproval.

"You two need to get a room," Pepper said, suspecting the actual cause of our awkwardness.

I glared at her, my blush definitely visible. "Officer Mint? What did I say about you showing decorum?"

Pepper stood straighter. "That I need more of it, ma'am."

"That's right. Either you show more professionalism, or I'll send you back to the infirmary and tell our guests you weren't well enough to attend." I addressed the whole room as my arousal mixed with irritation. "That goes for all of you. Playtime is over. If we can keep our game faces on, we might just survive this fantastically unnecessary risk to our base's security and keep the lights on." I don't think anyone present realized how serious I was; Mark Brin provided a third of our funding.

Gillon clapped his hands. "Mister Brin will be arriving shortly, let's get all the entrees on the table."

As they hurried to get the table set, I motioned for Tsubumi to follow me into the hallway. When she did, I said, "Gillon and Septimus tell me that you have some strange formations in your bones?"

She nodded. "Apparently getting healed by that classified thing beyond my clearance a second time caused further changes. It's not just my bones. Yesterday, chin ups, squats, and reps with sixty pound weights were so easy I got bored."

"Do you feel any different?" I asked.

She smiled wide. "I feel faster."

My eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yeah, I can see the flickering of the LED lights we strung up for tonight's dinner and, when I concentrate, all my senses have an incredible refresh rate. Time just kinda crawls." She shrugged. "I haven't really tested it out, though, so I don't know if I'm actually quicker in combat."

"We'll have to run some tests." I peered in the room and called out, "Septimus, can you join us for a sec?"

He folded a napkin and then joined us outside. "What can I do for you?" His left mouse ear twitched and he reached up with one of his paw-padded hands to smooth down the fur on the back of it.

"Tomorrow, I want you to test Tsubumi's combat capabilities and compare them to the tests we ran six months ago. I'd like the report on my desk by Friday," I said.

Tsubumi and I watched in fascination as Septimus's whiskers fanned forward while he yawned. "Sorry, was up too late running simulations."

Tsubumi's eyes were round with adoration at how cute Septimus's yawn had been.

Even though it didn't show on my face, I'd been struck by cuteness as well. "Try not to make that a habit. Can't have you drowsy if we're attacked again."

"I won't." He turned his attention to Tsubumi. "O-nine-hundred tomorrow?"

Tsubumi nodded. "That works!"

"I'm excited to see what you two find," I said before walking back into the room.

"Are we going with your plan for not trying to have everyone present at once?" Alphonse asked.

I'd been so busy trying to keep my mind off my nethers that I'd forgotten my own plan for this dinner. "Yes! For the first part of the dinner, I want Septimus, Gillon, Abrams, and Tsubumi here, all the team members Mark Brin has met before. We'll switch when it's time for dessert and have the newcomers bring in the triple-layer-brownie cake."

"Do you want us to do something while we wait?" Persephone asked.

"Give me a minute to check on something." I hadn't actually thought about that, but the answer was clear. After walking over to the phone, I dialed Tritonia's number. When she picked up, I said, "Persephone, Pepper, and Alphonse are going to be idle during the next hour, do you think you could continue teaching them the POSC charter during that time?"

"Of course!" Tritonia replied.

"How far along are they?" I asked.

"Forty-eight percent," Tritonia said.

"Good! I'll send them your way very soon." I hung up and addressed the three newbies. "I'm assuming you heard my conversation?"

Pepper and Alphonse nodded while Persephone said, "Don't you want Tritonia here for part of the dinner?"

"You can bring her in along with the dessert." I made a shooing motion with my hands. "Go report to Tritonia and be ready to come back in about an hour."

All three of them saluted me and left the room. I asked Gillon, "What's Mark Brin's ETA?"

"Last I heard, they were on time. However, the proximity alarm hasn't gone off and they're due in ten," he said.

Turning to Tsubumi, I said, "See if you can spot them on sonar. I'd rather not hail them if I don't need to."

"On it." Tsubumi dashed out of the room toward the control center.

While she was gone, I helped get the rest of the food out and ready assuming Mark Brin would be on time.

"They're a half hour out," Tsubumi reported from the doorway.

"A half hour?" My brow furrowed. All the work we'd just done putting the food out was for naught.

"Yeah, want me to hail them and ask what the holdup is?" She asked.

"No, we're not going to get a straight answer." I addressed the whole room. "Septimus and Tsubumi, get tinfoil over the gyro meat and set the oven to warm. I'll bring the rice from the table and cover it. Gillon and Abrams, cover the tabouli and put it in the fridge. After that, red wine stays out, white wine goes in the fridge."

As I picked up the tray of rice, my pussy winked and I dropped it as my clit started pressing into my panties. Everyone's eyes were on me. Picking the tray back up, I said, "Just lost my grip."

I waited till Tsubumi and Gillon were done with the tin foil and then covered the rice. After I put it in the oven, while I was standing back up, my pussy winked again. I gasped and fell backwards, taken completely by surprise. My right hand caught the handle to the oven and it broke clean off. I landed on my ass still holding the oven handle.

Septimus asked, "Are you having bouts of dizziness?"

Tsubumi looked at me with concern on her almond-shaped face. Great, even she was worried about me.

Gillon cut in with, "She's just having hot flashes, nothing to worry about."

"Isn't it a bit early for her to be in menopause?" Septimus asked.

"My cycle is not an acceptable topic for discussion." I glared at him. "Can we figure out what to do about the oven handle instead of trying to diagnose me, please?"

The more lies I was forced to tell, the more I had to keep track of. Plus, if they scrutinized me too much, they'd notice that my sleeves weren't quite long enough for my arms and my that my pants were riding up. I was glad there was some extra length in my military coat and shirt. My midriff showing would be very hard to explain away.

Abrams offered his hand like a true gentleman.

"Thanks!" I said as he pulled me to my feet. His grip was so strong, all of him was so strong. He was probably fantastic in bed...I wiped that thought from my mind hoping it would remain forgotten. He'd been stationed with us on and off for the past year, but I already felt like his mentor. Fucking him was out of the question. As I let go of his hand, I gave the oven handle to Septimus.

He looked at it as if he had no idea what to do with it.

Gillon held out his hand, "May I have the handle? I'll go see if we have any bolts to replace the ones that sheared off."

Septimus handed the handle to Gillon. "Good idea. I'll work to get the bolts out of the door."

While they did that exchange, I got the tool bag from under the sink and pulled out a screwdriver and an adjustable wrench. I worked with Septimus to get the old bolts out and then Gillon arrived with replacements. While I watched everyone work together to get the handle back on, my lips crinkled and I tried not to cry.

Abram's put a hand on my shoulder. "Charlie, are you okay?"

Speaking softly, I said, "It just feels so wrong without Bart here."

Taking me into his arms, he said, "Yeah, it really does."

I hugged him back just on the edge of tearing up. Gillon frowned seeing my face and Septimus looked away awkwardly, not used to seeing me vulnerable. My body was aching to be held, pressed up against someone. I was lucky it was Abrams hugging me, or I would have embarrassed myself. He was stroking my back in the exact same way I had stroked his when he'd learned his grandmother had passed away.

Tsubumi hugged us both from the side. "I miss him too, he would've spent the whole day making funny impressions of Mark Brin while you kept telling him it was inappropriate."

I sniffled. "I miss chastising him."

Gillon put a hand on my shoulder. "You don't have to be here for the whole dinner, dear. It's okay to take time for yourself when you're grieving. Mister Brin is aware you recently lost a close friend."

The proximity alarm went off.

"I can't show him weakness, Gillon. If he thought he could get away with it, he'd take over this whole operation," I said as I let go of Abrams.

Septimus walked toward the door saying, "I wish Bart were here to take my place at this dinner."

"If we let you skip out on everything, you'd never leave your lab," I said, following him toward the airlock.

"Would that be so bad?" he asked as we walked into the diving equipment room.

"Huh, maybe we should try it and see. We might not even notice you're missing." I smirked.

"You're cruel getting my hopes up like that," Septimus said as we passed the ADS 3000, the atmospheric diving suit that Tritonia was an integral part of.

"If I don't get your hopes up, I can't crush them later," I said.

Gillon just shot me a look of approval for my sarcasm.

"That about sums up our relationship," Septimus said.

Tsubumi and Abrams laughed.

The diving equipment room smelled like neoprene and salt. The neoprene scent was from the wetsuits and the salt scent was from the white encrustation of dried seawater that managed to get everywhere. Keeping this room clean was a full-time job.

I leaned on the wall next to the airlock. My trembling snatch and throbbing clit were really testing my patience. Closing my eyes, I breathed in and out slowly, slipping into the focus I needed to make this dinner go smoothly. The airlock cycling was noisy enough that no one tried to talk. And that helped immensely.

Mark Brin's chin and nose seemed sharper today, as did his cheek bones. His face looked more hollow than I remembered and there was less of him. He was more of a pencil than a marker now and his charcoal single-breasted suit looked like it belonged on James Bond. Had he been working out? I never thought of him as an action movie lead, but he was leaning in that direction. The effect was dulled by the fact he actually looked a touch too thin.

His tie had tiny white and black diagonal stripes that made it look grey from a distance and he had a pristine white handkerchief in his pocket. Somehow, his entire outfit set off the tiny bits of brown and blue in his gray eyes.

Next to him was a woman whose hair was every bit as dark as his with the same dark brown shine to it. She also shared his lankiness. But that's where the similarity between them ended. Where he was frail, she was fit, and where his features were angular, she was round. Her hair had big curls, she must have put in a great deal of time and effort using a large curling iron to get it so elegant and natural looking. The strangest thing about her was that her eyes were impossibly blue, she may have been wearing convincing colored contacts. I would have thought she was Irish if it hadn't been for her skin tone. That, combined with her overall shape, screamed French.

Noticing my stare, Mark said, "Francesca, this is Charlemagne." He motioned from Francesca to me and then from me to Francesca. "Charlemagne, Francesca."

Francesca was holding a heavy black briefcase bulging from its contents in her right hand, it was a perfect match for the briefcase Mark had in his left hand. In her left hand was a brown paper shopping bag. Mark took her briefcase from her so she could shake my hand.

I reached out and took Francesca's hand in mine. It was well-calloused and strong. Just what did this woman do for Mark?

"Nice to meet you," she said with a calm smile.

"Nice to meet you too," I replied as I let go of her hand.

"Francesca is my chief of operations," Mark said, answering my unasked question. Then he stepped to the side and introduced an elderly dark-skinned man with frizzy grey hair and a wide nose who looked like he could buy our entire operation and not even notice. His slate-colored suit, maroon tie, and rose gold Patek watch looked to be of the highest quality. "This is Harman Kadran Junior."

His hand felt like it spent most of its time in a vat of moisturizer. How could anyone be that old and have hands so soft? Had he had someone else do everything for him since birth? I knew his name, he'd been bankrolling politicians since the eighties. I greeted him and let go of his hand so Mark could introduce the next person.

"I believe you already know Martha Klum," Mark said patting Martha's shoulder.

Martha Klum was only four years older than me and celebrated her birthday two weeks after mine. My friendship with her is what started the Pan-Oceanic Safety Congress. Pulling her into a hug, I said, "So good to see you again."

"Glad to be here. Things were a bit touch and go for a while there." She'd lost too much weight last time I saw her. Now that she was back to her pudgy self and it was a comfort.

I let her go. "Yeah, no more being followed around by nervous doctors."

I saw a concerned expression flash across Mark Brin's face before he caught himself and put a smile back on.

"No, only nervous campaign managers are following me around these days," she said while pulling her long, brass-colored bangs out of her boxy face.

I chuckled as Mark introduced the last person, someone I knew from the news, but had never seen in person. "Chief of Naval Operations for the United States Navy, Theodore Stephenson."

"Just call me Ted," the short small-faced, wide-shouldered man said as he reached out with his right hand.

I had to stoop to shake it because he was almost a foot shorter than me.

His hand was stocky, strong, and riddled with pink inflamed spots and dry flakes of skin, like the rest of his complexion. He had some of the most severe psoriasis I'd ever seen. Eyes drifting across everyone in the room he added, "That goes for all of you. I'm just Ted, a guy from Kansas who's far more at home above the waves. Charlemagne is the ranking officer here and I just want to enjoy a nice dinner."

"Pleased to meet you." I let go of his hand and stood back up, gasping as my cunt twitched.

His eyes narrowed at me and I died inside as I tried to come up with an excuse. "Sorry, I pulled a muscle in training."

Ted patted his belly. "I wish I pulled a muscle now and then, I spend far too much time hunched over a desk."

"Why are all the most important jobs so boring?" Tsubumi asked.

Ted laughed. "Couldn't have characterized it better myself. What's your name, miss?"

"I'm Tsubumi, the chief sonar operator and covert operations specialist." She held out her hand and shook Ted's.

I took that opening to introduce everyone to the rest of my team and then had everyone follow me to dinner. Francesca stayed quiet as everyone else chatted. Her eyes darted to every bit of technology, every door hinge, and every fleck of peeling paint. I watched her out of the corner of my eye, never looking directly at her unless there was reason to.

Once everyone was seated, I gave a speech about how our mission was going to one day save the world and how great everyone attending was for keeping us going. It all went fine until I made a wide gesture and then brought my hands together while changing my stance. "The best part of this meeting is that we can make connections with each other and strengthen--AAAAH--our bonds."

Everyone was staring at me.

"Sorry, the muscle I pulled is still very twitchy," I said.

Tsubumi came to the rescue with, "It was bad, she had to lean on me to get back to the infirmary."

Ted said, "Hmm, that reminds me of when I pulled my hamstring in basic. I was laid up for two weeks and had to join another class."

I sat at the table realizing I'd said everything I'd meant to say and served myself healthy helpings of basmati rice and gyro meat. For the tabouli, I only put enough on my plate to look like I wasn't allergic to vegetables.

"Do people ever just go through basic training for the experience?" Mark Brin asked.

Ted laughed so hard he shook in his chair. "Maybe, if they've lost their minds."

"But doesn't it help people build discipline and get them in shape?" Mark asked.

Ted looked tired and annoyed, like he was having to explain stuff to a kid who didn't know any better. "No, it was designed to break people down to the point that they will follow orders and pull the trigger before they have time to think about the person in the crosshairs."

Gillon nodded. "Killing goes against human wiring. The average person will hesitate and trained soldiers will just pull the trigger."

Mark tilted his head. "Huh, and I always thought it was like an intense fitness program."

"Have you never seen Full Metal Jacket?" Septimus asked.

"No, actually." Mark shrugged. "Everyone talks about that movie as if it's a big downer."

Margret put her head in her hands. "Mark, dear, a large part of the reason it's a big downer is that the first half of the movie is basic training depicted as truthfully and viscerally as possible."

"Oh...I had no idea." Mark frowned, seeing that the whole table had turned on him.

"Do you know the main reason people become soldiers?" Ted asked. "I'll give you a hint: it's not so they can go through basic training."

"Because they want to protect our way of life?" Mark said.

Harman noisily set his fork down on his plate. "No, Mark, it's because of the GI bill. Kids from poor families enroll in the military for a couple years so they can get their college paid for."

Mark's eyes widened. "Wait, does that mean if we made college free for all Americans, we'd have trouble getting enough soldiers?"

"Unless we came up with more incentives, definitely," Harman said.

"If a candidate stepped up in this next election with a comprehensive plan to fix and better fund veterans' affairs, I'd throw my support behind them. We take better care of them when they're out on the front lines than we do at home for Christ's sake!" Ted thumped the table.

"I'd vote for that candidate in a heartbeat!" I said.

"Me too!" Tsubumi said.

Abrams and Harman nodded in agreement. Francesca and Gillon were just listening quietly.

"Give me some action items, what needs fixing?" Mark Brin said.

We spent the next hour talking about how to fix veterans' affairs while Francesca took notes on Mark's laptop. Abrams busied himself with bringing food to Persephone, Pepper, and Alphonse. He'd never been one for large conversations.

I had no idea why Mark wanted to go so far in depth, but his insights were impressive. He identified areas where resources were being wasted and suggested ways to use technology to improve and update veterans' services. Harman offered helpful economic statistics, Tsubumi offered her experiences, I provided insights into how other nations handled their veterans' services, Gillon talked about how best to handle mental health, Septimus played devil's advocate, and Martha's policy-making experience helped us determine what was most likely to pass.

I'd never seen Mark's innovative and curious side. That said, I'd never been around him this long when he wasn't distracted. He was approaching being wrong as identifying gaps in his knowledge. Gaps he actively worked to fill. Perhaps it was because he didn't consider himself an expert on this discussion topic and hadn't formed strong opinions yet.

To my surprise, we actually had a rather solid plan by the time Mark said, "I think it's time for dessert."

"Right you are, sir," Gillon said before meeting eyes with Tsubumi and Septimus. When he got up from the table, the two of them got up with him.

They worked to clear the table and get the leftover food stowed in the fridge.

"Persephone, Pepper, and Alphonse are probably wondering what the hold up is." I chuckled. Now that I was no longer engrossed in conversation, the intolerable thundering of my loins was making me want to hump my seat. I only had to make it another hour. Then I could reset myself and get off.

"Want me to go get them?" Abrams offered.

I blinked having forgotten what we were talking about. Then, when I finally remembered, I said, "Sure! And the rest of you can go off duty so you can sleep off the big meal you just ate."

Tsubumi closed the fridge and addressed the table. "It was nice meeting all of you!"

Everyone replied with the same sentiment.

Gillon and Septimus bid farewell and then Mark Brin sighed and shook his head.

"Something wrong?" Francesca asked.

"I forgot the bottle of Pineau des Charentes on the sub," Mark replied.

Francesca got up from the table. "I'll fetch it straight away."

"You don't have to, I wouldn't mind going for a short walk." He started getting up from the table.

Francesca put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't trouble yourself. I'm happy to retrieve it."

"Are you sure you know where it is?" he asked.

"I have a pretty good idea, it's gotta be in one of the minibar cabinets, right?" She walked toward the door.

"Yeah, the one on the bottom right." He smiled. "Hurry back before we eat all the cake."

"You either save me a piece or I'll empty the bottle of Pineau des Charentes on your head." She left for the airlock while we all laughed at her friendly jab.

As the airlock started cycling, Persephone, Pepper, and Alphonse walked in. Persephone was carrying the heavy cylinder that contained Tritonia's core. Pepper was holding the triple-layer-brownie cake with chocolate mousse frosting like it was a priceless artifact from an ancient civilization. I had a feeling if anyone damaged the cake, she'd beat the living daylights out of them.

As Pepper set the cake on the table, I introduced the three of them to our guests.

Mark Brin couldn't take his eyes off Persephone. "You are fantastic!"

Persephone blushed as she set Tritonia's cylinder down on the table. "I-I am?"

"I read your dossier, but nothing could have prepared me for seeing you in person." Mark smiled. "Magnificent!"

Persephone's neck glowed with bioluminescence as she blushed more. "I thought I was more something that goes bump in the night than fashion model."

"You're both, girl," Alphonse said.

"Yeah, hon." Pepper patted Persephone on the shoulder, voice sounding quite hoarse.

"Can we turn off the lights?" Mark Brin asked.

"Only if it's okay with you, Percy," I said.

"Yeah, go ahead," Persephone gulped.

Pepper walked over to the light switch next to the sink and flicked it off. Persephone held out her hands and her palms glowed brightly as did the spots on her face, neck, and arms. Mark Brin was struck with wonder, Martha and Harman stared with their mouths half open, and Ted rubbed his chin looking to be deep in thought.

"I can strobe it a bit, maybe use it for Morse code?" Persephone made herself glow brighter and softer in a morse-like pattern.

My mind instantly recalled her flickering from when we'd been trapped in what would become her quarters. The way she'd been so horny she could barely sit still, her powerful thrusts into Pepper, Pepper's heated moans as she was stretched by both of Persephone's glowing cocks, all of it was just so titillating. This time, my pussy winked three times in succession, as if trying to signal to Persephone I was ready for her. But I wasn't...I was in the middle of an important dinner with the lights off and I was having to stifle moans with gasps.

Pepper instantly turned the lights on and asked, "Is someone hurt?" Her injured voice was just barely audible at that distance.

"Just another--NGH!--a muscle spasm," I lied.

"Do you get those often?" Pepper asked, genuinely worried.

Persephone added, "I find eating bananas helps if my muscles get twitchy. Sometimes being low in potass--"

"I pulled a muscle, remember?" I glared at both of them, daring them to disagree with me.

"Oh! I thought it had healed." Pepper grabbed a knife for cutting the cake out of the knife block on the counter. Then she grabbed a glass and filled it with water.

Pulling out the chair next to me, Persephone said, "Me too." She threaded her thick shark tail through the opening in the chair back as she sat down.

As Alphonse took a seat across from her, I said, "Persephone's suitless deep water capability gives her dexterity in environments that are inhospitable to human life. I believe using her in conjunction with Kirkii will allow us to complete missions which would otherwise be impossible. Such as the repair of components in situ that we'd normally have to detach and bring into the habitat."

"You really don't need any water breathing assistance?" Ted asked.

"Nope, I just breathe through my gills." Persephone shrugged. "It is a huge hassle to switch from one type of breathing to the other, though."

"You basically have to drown yourself, don't you?" Mark asked.

"Yeah, and then undrown myself later, which is even harder," Persephone added.

Pepper cut the cake into thin slices. It was a good idea because the cake was so rich. After each slice, she dipped the knife in water to make sure the cake wouldn't stick to it overmuch. It worked like a charm. Every so often, she shot Persephone a look of adoration. I couldn't help but feel a bit jealous of their budding relationship. I'd lost my closest connection not even a week ago.

As Tritonia said, "We may want to make sure someone is present whenever Persephone has to switch breathing methods."

Persephone sniffed the air and then looked at me.

I blushed knowing exactly what she'd just found out. Her eyes were wide, like she couldn't believe such a lewd needy scent was coming from me. I could smell it too because of my body's continued acquisition of equine traits. To my human nose, mares in estrus had smelled a bit harsh, but my changed olfactory sense now registered the excitement of my mare muff as a pleasant smell, like jasmine. I ignored Persephone and the warming of my crotch as I said, "Make a note and I'll put that directive into practice. Persephone will be paired up with Kirkii underwater and with the rest of her team in atmosphere."

My decision to sit at the head of the table nearest the open bulkhead was paying off. My scent would be carried out of the room since air moved from back to front. Persephone was the only other hybrid in the room, so I was probably safe. I was a bit worried about her, though. She was already shifting in her seat, frequently glancing in my direction. Was she getting hard just from my scent? I missed part of the conversation as I bit my lip and weathered another wink from my mare parts. It shouldn't have aroused me, it should have embarrassed me, but her showing interest in me was a powerful aphrodisiac.

Pepper set a piece of cake in front of me and Alphonse handed me a fork. As she and Alphonse worked to make sure everyone had a piece, Alphonse said, "Pepper and I went a little overboard on this. The uppermost layer is a walnut brownie, the middle layer is salted caramel brownie, and the bottom layer is a dark chocolate fudge brownie. Dark chocolate mousse was used for the frosting and as the spacing between the layers."

Once everyone had their piece, I cut off a long chunk that had every type of layer in it. I put it in my mouth and the chocolate mousse hit first, it was sweet with a bitter chocolate undertone. Then I tasted the salted caramel and the fudge and then the walnuts. A wave of delight crashed through me and I bucked my hips on my chair as my clit twitched rhythmically. I was having an orgasm right in front of everyone! Stifling my moan by breathing through my nose, I bit my tongue. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to make my tongue burn with pain.

This derailed my body's dance of pleasure enough that everyone likely assumed my pulled muscle was acting up again. Everyone except Persephone. She was bioluminescing and blushing while she fidgeted and tried not to look directly at me.

Was she into me or was it just my scent and knowing what was actually happening? It had to just be her body reacting out of instinct, didn't it? I was her commanding officer and I'd forced her and Alphonse to give up their lives outside our organization. Plus, if I allowed myself to believe she wanted me, I'd have difficulty controlling myself. I was more than a half hour overdue for reverting my unmentionables back to their human state and now my tailbone was starting to feel odd.

"You look like you're in heaven," Ted said to me as I savored another bite.

"I like chocolate far too much," I replied. "And this desert is incredible."

Everyone used that opening to shower Alphonse and Pepper with complements until they were both blushing and grinning.

After swallowing his second to last bite, Ted asked, "So, why does everyone call you Charlemagne?"

I took a sip of water before saying, "When I was making deals with world powers to set up the POSC, the British council member, knowing I needed a codename, started calling me Charlemagne. He said my uniting the world for this venture was not unlike how Charlemagne united Europe. To his surprise, I gladly took on the name because, although he was poking fun at my tough negotiation tactics, I liked it. I take pride in my fierceness. Everyone before me tiptoed around foreign leaders, honey coating everything they said. Instead of telling everyone what they wanted to hear, I told them what they needed to hear."

"What did they need to hear?" Mark asked.

"I gave them a window into my deepest fears and my highest hopes. First, I told them that China and Soviet Russia would use their NPO alliance to bend history to their will if there wasn't an unified effort to counter them. Second, I pointed out the great feats the global science community had accomplished through collaboration and said they already knew how to work together, when they wanted to. Third, I espoused my faith that they could form an organization that was greater than the sum of its parts." I shrugged. "It got easy once I had the UK, Taiwan, The West African Federation, and Korea on board."

"Huh, I always thought the US was the first country to join," Mark said.

I smirked. "No, they were hoarding NPOs and claiming The Repository was theirs despite all the help they got from Germany in their latest renovation of the habitat. Convincing them to share was very difficult."

"We'd hate to admit it, but if we don't ally with other countries, the Soviets and the Chinese are going to steamroll us," Martha said.

Mark sighed. "You'd think the Soviet Union would've collapsed by now. I thought them giving up East Germany was a sign it was all gonna crumble."

Harman said, "If Chernobyl had gone into full meltdown, the resulting disaster would have bankrupted them while inexorably damaging their reputation."

"The Chernobyl accident wasn't technically a meltdown. It was a steam explosion caused by superheated coolant from an unexpected chain reaction. Because everyone here has the proper clearance, I think I should share an interesting fact. The USSR was using Chernobyl to test an NPO that can rapidly siphon off heat energy. The test that day was delayed and a crew less familiar with the NPO's capabilities ended up running the test. The result was a moderate release of radioactive material, but it would have been a far greater disaster if that NPO had not been able to sap energy from the explosion and chain reaction." Tritonia said.

Everyone's mouths were hanging open.

"And this is where I repeat my mantra: our mission will someday save the world. We need all the help we can get with the Russians performing dangerous experiments on their NPOs," I said with a twinkle in my eye. In that moment, I realized something was off and I waited until everyone had recovered from shock to ask, "Shouldn't Francesca be back by now?"

END OF PART 2

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