Frustration by Gren

Frustration

Gren, Alien, Handjob, Human, M/M, Sci-Fi

Frustration

In which a security guard successfully masturbates an alien to climax.

2011 Gren Drake

Hanging in orbit around a dying star, the only object of any interest in the mostly barren system was Turli Station. It was not a popular destination and, in fact, was rarely an actual destination at all. It stood at the nexus of several warp chains and served as a vital node in the transshipping network that extended throughout known space. Most of the station was taken up by the docks and short-term storage facilities. Those with an interest beyond picking up or passing on cargo often had mechanical or medical problems they could not deal with.

In the slightly run down passenger area there was a small casino-brothel that would have long since gone broke for lack of custom had it not been subsidized by Station Authority, along with the Starlight Inn. This inn had nearly a dozen species-agnostic rooms and always had vacancies; most travellers preferred to stay aboard their own ships.

Situated between the docks and the passenger area was a large pub, favourite of travellers and station crew alike. It served a wide variety of food and drinks, as any such establishment in common space had to and served as the main social life for those who lived on the station.

It was this pub that Trevor wished he was in, but he was on duty walking the short, curved corridors in an effort to be visible to both the local and transient populations. Most trouble could be avoided through a visible presence.

It didn't prevent every problem, though, such as the one he had just received a call over the radio about. One haltonian was following another, possibly harassing it. The one being followed had snarled and its pursuer and rapidly left the station. Though the second had tried to follow, it had become lost in the crowd. It was now reportedly upset, growling, spitting, drooling, and otherwise upsetting people in its area. The operations lead had initially tagged it as an animal and had been about to dispatch animal control instead when the computer had tagged the creature as a sophant.

What in the blazes is a haltonian? Trevor asked himself as he moved through the corridors in a quick, but unhurried fashion. While two thirds of the traffic at Turli Station was composed of less than a dozen different species about which he'd been briefed extensively, the remaining traffic was more-or-less equally composed of the other hundred-plus known species. Although he could recognize some and was familiar with the names of a few more, most were total unknowns to him, as indeed the haltonians where.

Fortunately his superiors had foreseen this circumstance, though such foresight is hardly surprising, and he pulled out his small datapad and had it connect to the station computer for more information. This was such a practised motion that it didn't slow his brisk pace in the slightest.

The top of the article displayed a picture of a haltonian, including a silhouetted figure, human since Trevor was human, for scale, and he winced on seeing it. A small symbol next to the picture indicated that the individual depicted was male and, thanks to the link it had to operations, he knew that the real haltonian he was off to deal with would be as well. A second, dimmed symbol indicated the presence of a female sex, but he decided that was unlikely to be important.

It seemed that a haltonian was a quadruped with a pair of tentacles arising from just behind its shoulders each ending in three 'fingers' and a short, but sharp-looking, claw. It had a thick, but short tail and a long muzzle with a decided overbite. The shape of the visible teeth were not such as to give their possessor a less dangerous appearance. Its eyes were hidden in a recessed brow. Every one of its feet had large claws. Remarkably, its hide was a variety of bright colours in a seemingly random design. From the scale human at the side its head would be level with his chest. Like all the database pictures, the haltonian was pictured naked; there was an option to see common clothing arrangements, but he didn't really have the time and, besides, he'd know that soon enough anyway.

Below the picture was a long writeup that he wouldn't have nearly enough to time to read. This, too, had been thought of, however, and a summary of the most important details was provided in bullet points at the top. His steps did finally slow as he read these.

* WARNING: Territorial; do not approach. * WARNING: Do not make physical contact. * WARNING: Do not meet eyes. * WARNING: Do not run. * WARNING: Venomous; avoid contact with bodily fluids. * NOTICE: Telepathic. * NOTICE: Early Urite uplift.

How the hell had they gotten into space? The second notice suggested an answer; the Urites (named after the sector they originated in) had decided to physically and culturally uplift every species that seemed even slightly eligible. Not all of these were entirely successful. A few had even been spectacularly unsuccessful and the Urites were now entirely extinct. In the fifty years since the last Urite outpost was destroyed the sector and the species that dwelt there had settled down, but it remained a very backwater and violent area.

The real question was what he could do if the individual didn't want to cooperate. It was something he'd have to figure out on the fly, though, because he had arrived.

The haltonian was in the midst of a clear area in a growing crowd. A small swatch of furry hide was on its back, the closest it came to having clothing, and a small pack was attached to a belt secured around its chest. As Trevor arrived it was shaking as well as growling, drooling, and so forth. Hopefully it wasn't going to experience a seizure; Trevor's multispecies first-aid didn't cover species that were potentially dangerous to touch. Not that the training was all that useful; by the time first-aid was generalized enough to be used on most species it consisted of little more than instructions like 'keep the patient breathing if breathing seems necessary'.

The haltonian's tentacles were lashing through the air and it was quickly apparent that the crowd had been smart enough to stay back, out of their reach. Trevor pushed his way to the front of the crowd, which was made easier as the crowd parted just enough to let him through.

"Sir," he said, hoping the haltonian had one of the translation ear-buds offered to everyone who arrived. "You need to move along. If you like I can lead you somewhere quiet and out of the way to calm down before returning to where you're staying. We can discuss what happened later." Station operations would want to know if only to try and avoid future recurrences.

<She rejected me!> The words burnt themselves into Trevor's brain, almost seeming not to bother with the whole business of passing first through his ears. The haltonian turned to look straight at him, staring with its vibrant eyes. Remembering the summary on his datapad, Trevor was careful not to meet its gaze, but he couldn't help but notice that its eyes were just a flat orange without pupil or iris.  The alien's lips did not move as it spoke.

"I am going to have to ask you to come-" Trevor started, confident now that it could understand him, but he was interrupted as it continued to speak.

<She had no right!> As the haltonian's words continued to burn themselves into his mind he realized they didn't just seem to be bypassing his ears, they were. It was 'talking' telepathicly. <How dare she! I pursued her through this entire place and she rejects me!>

"You were stalking her? How long have you been doing this?" The haltonian had only come to the attention of station security with this incident; for all Trevor knew this haltonian had been stalking the other, apparently female, alien for days, perhaps even since before they arrived on Turli Station.

<Long enough; it is my right!>

"You don't have the-" Trevor stopped speaking as he noticed the confused stares and the curious looks from the crowd. They couldn't hear the haltonian; they could hear Trevor, but not the alien's replies. I hate telepathy, he thought.

"Let's go somewhere we can discuss this without the crowd," he said instead. "Follow me." Without looking to see whether his instructions were followed he started towards Observation Bay 5. The haltonian was not quiet and only a moment later he could hear its footsteps sounding solidly behind him, each accompanied by the clicking of its claws against the floor.

<She needs me; how could she just abandon me like that?> The alien continued its ranting as they walked; Trevor only half listened to it and only that much because the alien might let something important slip through. He was going to have to get an explanation, but the corridor was not the place to do it.

It did not take long to reach the observation bay and Trevor's official keycard readily opened the door. Originally the bay had, like all the other bays, been open to the public to observe the ships docking, undocking, loading, and unloading. After an accident had caused it to lose pressure the delay in getting it repaired had caused most people to become accustomed to it being closed. Once repaired, station security took it over without any fuss. It was a great place to question people or get statements away from the general hustle of the station.

Once he saw the haltonian in, he shut the door and settled into one of the plush chairs bolted to the floor. There was no need to worry about suspects protesting their treatment; even before the room had been claimed by security, a pair of cameras covered the entire interior.

"I'm Trevor from station security," he addressed the troublesome alien. Although the chair left him looking smaller than the alien, he'd found in the past that the uniform made up much of the difference, even with the more massive aliens.

<Security?> For the first time the haltonian seemed to notice the comparatively small human. <Am I under arrest now?>

"Not at this time," Trevor reassured it. "We simply received a report that you were creating a disturbance in the corridor. What I need now is to know what was happening in the corridor."

<She rejected me! Six months of meticulous courtship, of a flawless performance and chase, and she rejected me like some yearling!>

Trevor carefully kept his expression unresponsive, but metaphorical wheels turned in his head as he tried to put the pieces together. He really wished that he'd had time to read more of the info on the datapad; there was likely information there that would make things a lot easier. As it was he was limited to trying to read the alien's unfamiliar body language.

"And your name is?" he asked, as much to buy himself time to think as because he would need the information for his report.

 One of its tentacles reached down and unzipped the oversized zipper on the pouch strapped to its chest and pulled out an ID card. 

Well, Trevor thought to himself, Subtly-Poisoned-Water here either has something of an ego or there's some cultural confusion here. Wish I knew which it was.

The card wasn't in a format that he recognized, but with over a thousand settled worlds, each with their own designs, that was no surprise. He was happy enough when he could recognize which bits were writing and which parts were decorative. And when they included pictures; he'd found a few that made use of coded scent descriptions or other things unusable to him before.

He used a hand-scanner from his belt to send an image of the card back to station operations. As he was returning the card to Subtly-Poisoned-Water the screen of the scanner lit up with an image of an automatically translated version of the card.

Subtly-Poisoned-Water was indeed the name on the card, and, happily, it included a picture of the individual in front of him. Or at least a reasonably similar one; he had no idea how distinct different individuals were from each other. It was not the most encouraging name he'd heard either; what kind of parent named their child like that?

"Do you know the female's name?"

<She is the gracefully named Wilted-Flower.> Trevor had to make an effort not to roll his eyes at the name.

"Subtly--you mind if I just call you Subtly?--perhaps you can start at the beginning. The more I know the better I'll understand the situation and be able to help you." He hoped Subtly wasn't going to tell him anything arrest-worthy. He didn't want to have to try to arrest the haltonian.

It sighed and lowered itself to the floor, settling to its haunches at first, giving Trevor a good view of its mostly bare belly and groin, before dropping entirely to the floor with its forelegs stretched out in front of it.

Six months? It sounded like stalking to Trevor, but without more information about their culture he wasn't really in a position to judge. Subtly sure made it sound like a normal thing.

"She was receptive for six months?"

<Not quite like you're thinking,> it added after a moment. <She wasn't in oestrus or anything, but the longer the chase the more amorous and fertile she becomes. Blacked-Ruins is said to have had a litter of eight after her courtship. Oh!> The haltonian cradled its head in its tentacles, shaking it slightly. 

"Did she say why? Had she met another perhaps?"

<Why?> From the Subtly's mental tone Trevor suspected the question had never even occurred to it. <Why? She didn't meet another; I would have smelt the difference.>

"Could she have just not liked the way you looked?"

<She's seen me before! She could have told me to stop then, but she didn't.>

"How could she have stopped you?" From a human perspective Subtly's actions sounded like stalking, no matter how much it seemed to think them appropriate. Especially since it hadn't mentioned actually speaking to the female at any point.

[pi]<She could have left a message, she could have filed a request through the Ministry of Courtship, she could have simply not left her pheromones. Damnation, she could simply have said something earlier; it would have been tactless, but we're not limited in our communication the same way sound-biased species are.>[/i]

"You can turn off your pheromones?" Trevor asked. "What would have happened if she hadn't rejected you?" Ministry of Courtship? He was coming to believe that he definitely needed more information before these situations. As much as it sounded stalkerish to him, it was sounding more and more normal for a haltonian. And if the female could've 'turned off' her pheromones then she had been deliberately leading him on.

<Females can,> it said, then its eyelids drooped as it began its explanation. <I'd have taken her to a fine restaurant; not one here, somewhere that understood the high points of courtship, probably back on the homeworld. As we ate I would rub against her, then, just as she was finishing her meal, I would move over her, taking her.> Subtly's voice had become wistful as though recounting a dream. He probably was, Trevor realized. Six months was a long time to go with no more than occasional glimpses of one's prospective partner. How much was normal haltonian courtship and how much was fantasy was impossible to tell. <Then I'd lead her to my quarters and we'd do little for days but have sex. Our meals would be delivered, the galaxy would fade away. We'd remain together until the children were born; she would take the female and leave and I'd keep the male. If she really liked me then, after they were grown, she'd return and we could began it all again...>

Even as Subtly reached the end its voice was trailing off and its eyes were almost entirely shut. It seemed to be descending further into dreams and away from the real world. Unfortunately, as much as Trevor would have liked to have let the alien enjoy its fantasies, he had a job to do, making sure there wouldn't be any further problems. He started to reach out to touch Subtly, to remind the alien that he was there, but stopped as he recalled the datapad warnings.

"So what now?" he asked instead.

Subtly's eyes snapped open once more. <You need to understand, females aren't the only ones whose hormones build up.> It shifted on the ground and made an odd, prolonged grunting sound, the first sound Trevor had actually heard the alien make. <They'll fade in time, but, oh, it'll be unpleasant until then. How would you like to spend the next several weeks constantly aroused?>

Trevor opened his mouth to reply, but hesitated. It would be unpleasant, he could not deny, but still... "Couldn't you just masturbate or wouldn't that help?"

There was no reply for a moment. Silence.

Only it wasn't really silent; the station air circulation system was making as much noise as ever and he could even hear the occasional sound of ships taking to the docks rather more firmly then they were supposed to. Besides, it wasn't any less silent when Subtly was speaking.

<No,> it said at last. <Oh, how I wish...>

"Why not?" While Trevor seemed to be going from security guard to relationship counsellor it was something he was happy to do if it prevented future trouble.

<Oh, it feels good, but it would never stop. A female applies special pressure during coitus without which I cannot climax.> The alien's voice became quieter, if such a term may be applied to something that's silent in the first place.

Seems rather cruel, Trevor thought to himself. Mother nature is not kind sometimes.

"Couldn't you just apply this pressure yourself?"

<Believe me, every male haltonian born has tried and some have even maimed themselves in the attempt. If there was a way it would have been found by now.>

It seemed reasonable enough stated like that, but surely in the time it took most species to go from discovering agriculture to exploring space someone would have found a way.

Only, he realized, the haltonians came from the Urite Systems. They were one of the infamous Urite uplifts. The Urites had died out fifty years previous and had only started doing their thing fifty years before that. It was not only possible, but even likely, that the haltonians had still been discovering the benefits of agriculture a century before.

He opened his mouth, then froze. He may have come to understand the problem, but he still had no idea what to suggest. Instead, he just shook his head. How had he even gotten onto the subject of alien masturbation, anyway?

It seemed that Subtly misinterpreted his gesture though, as was not uncommon between different species. <Don't believe me? Perhaps you'd like to try; go ahead, you won't be able to hurt me and you can hardly make things any worse.>

For the second time in as many moments Trevor opened his mouth to reply and stopped. Subtly spoke nothing less than the truth; he would be very hard pressed to cause any real injury, the alien was simply too large and robust. At least, it looked robust. Masturbation wasn't supposed to be painful, either, except for rather spectacular failures.

Even as he considered the matter, Subtly rolled onto its back, its tentacles sticking out to the sides like it'd rolled onto a squid. Once more Trevor found himself presented with the alien's belly and groin, only this time his attention was specificity directed towards the latter area.

Haltonian genitalia, it seemed, was very mammalian with a sheath and a pair of testicles. The wonders of panspermia, Trevor thought, glad that he wouldn't have to figure would how Subtly's genitals worked. The situation was embarrassing enough as it was.

<Think you can do anything?> Subtly looked at him with eyes that seemed imploring despite their lack of iris or pupil. <Or can't you be bothered?>

Trevor wondered for only a moment what it would take before he'd ask a random alien for help masturbating. What would it cost him to ask?

Only, he couldn't believe he'd ever be able to bring himself to ask; he'd die of embarrassment if he had to try. Subtly hadn't exactly asked either, but the implication was definitely there. The alien had to be desperate to be doing even that much, but it did not seem to hold out much hope that Trevor might succeed.

With a shrug, Trevor decided to do what Subtly had asked; perhaps he'd be able to solve a problem a whole species was encountering. It was more than he'd ever expected to be able to do as a security guard.

From a pouch on the back of his belt he pulled out a pair of latex gloves and slipped them on; as helpful as he may feel, he wasn't inclined to disregard the warnings his datapad had supplied earlier. He also slipped out of his shoes, setting them to the side, not wanting to risk accidentally kicking Subtly. No matter how robust or durable the alien may be, Trevor couldn't imagine that not hurting.

This all done he crouched over Subtly's short tail, the thick mass laying still between his legs. Finally, with a movement both slow and awkward, he took the alien's genitals into his hands. Even with just the haltonian's sheath and testicles, they seemed large, but then, the alien was probably at least twice, perhaps even three times his mass. Large as they might seem to him, they still appeared entirely proportionate to the body they were attached to.

As Trevor took in the feel of the hide covering Subtly's genitals and felt their firmness in his hands, what could only have been the haltonian's penis began to appear. When he saw the size and the vivid blue colouration of that organ he had to hold in a gasp, though intellectually he knew it was entirely proportional. That didn't make it look any less imposing as it remained the size of his forearm. Aside from its bright colouration, the most notable feature was a series of ridges that ran along the top and bottom of its length. The ridges all felt quite solid beneath Trevor's fingers and, judging by Subtly's reaction, were quite sensitive. The four ridges along the bottom were spaced evenly between the five ridges along the top, and were entirely identical.

"These ridges, they're what you needed the pressure on?" Trevor ran a finger along one of them as he voiced his guess.

<Yes.> Though Subtly was breathing faster from even the minimal fondling Trevor had done, its mental voice remained clear and firm. Not like it needs its breath to speak, Trevor thought. Must make it easier to call for help if it chokes. His hands tightened unconsciously as he considered the Heimlich manoeuvre in relation to the large quadruped in front of him. Only when Subtly's tail thrashed slightly between Trevor's legs and its back arched did he realize what he'd done. A large drop of fluid had formed at the end of Subtly's cock.

"Hmm." Trevor considered the problem and, as he thought about it, his hands absently continued to massage the alien cock eliciting an increasing reaction. It wasn't until Subtly's hips tried to thrust, sending its stubby tail into Trevor's crouch that he noticed what he was doing. Thankfully it was a very gentle thump and only caused a wince and a brief curling up.

As Trevor raised his head he saw Subtly was staring at him in a silent, imploring way.

"You okay?" Trevor asked. Subtly nodded and looked urgently at his large, erect cock as it bobbed slightly over the haltonian's chest, dripping its precum onto the hide there and along its length.

Rather than continue to question Subtly as Trevor wanted to do, he took the non-verbal reply as a suggestion that the alien wouldn't, or couldn't, use its telepathic facility during sexual activities.

Instead, he started playing with the alien cock, reaching out with both hands to try and squeeze as many of the ridges as he could, but his hands weren't large enough to reach them all. Though his efforts were having a very obvious and very visible effect in Subtly's squirming against the floor, it wasn't having enough of one, or perhaps not quite the right effect.

That Subtly couldn't do the task himself Trevor no longer wondered at; though he would never say so out loud, his hands were rather superior to the other's tentacles when it came to the length and number of their digits, as well, he suspected, as base manipulatory ability.

He stared at his gloved hands as they continued to shift over the alien cock, trying to press all the ridges at once. Much as it was provoking a reaction, it was not getting him closer to his goal. Perhaps if he had something elastic he could use to hold some of them down?

A thought trickled into the back of his mind. Gloves. Stretchy, elastic gloves. He picked at the latex and pulled at it; the material stretched some before snapping rather unpleasantly back into place. His gloves wouldn't fit that alien organ though, and he was hardly going to cannibalize the only pair he had with him.

But still, if he could come up with a sleeve of latex or some other material it'd be able to hold at least some of the ridges down. It was easy to picture making such a thing, but rather less so with the supplies he actually had on hand.

"Do your people have condoms?" he asked. Despite all the scientific advances, the ancient condom was still the birth control method of choice, in part because it was often the case that many species could use the same or very similar ones. Not every species used them as not every species had the appropriate anatomy. There were even urban legends about species that had never thought of them, though Trevor always found that unlikely. If the haltonians did have them they obviously hadn't thought to apply them for this purpose.

A spoken response (or at least a telepathic one) would have much more clear than a tilted head, half-closed eyes, and slightly parted lips with tongue hanging out. That was what he got, though. Did Subtly mean What is that? Perhaps What does it matter? Of course, if they did have condoms, he really doubted the current situation would ever have developed.

Where could he find a length of stretchy tubing? He turned his attention back to the blue cock as he considered; it was still entirely erect and throbbing. The entire thing didn't need covered, just the ridges. Probably covering most of the ridges would be enough; even those tentacles could manage a few.

He took his hands off of Subtly's cock and leaned back as he considered the problem, but this sudden stop seemed to elicit a response of its own and Subtly's tail thrashed, knocking Trevor over. He wound up on his side staring at his foot where it was partially covered by the tail. Just the upper portion of his sock remained visible.

It was seeing that sock that gave him the idea. Quickly pulling his sock off he compared his foot to the throbbing blue penis; it was about the same width, though flatter, and it seemed likely that his sock would extend over all the ridges, though probably not the entire shaft.

Returning to his position over Subtly's tail he pulled the sock over the hard cock. Subtly stared at him as he did this, then began squirming violently as the fabric slid over the first ridge.

The sock wasn't long enough; it barely reached half the ridges. For the first time, Trevor bemoaned his lifelong preference for ankle-length socks. He pulling the sock off with a single movement in the hopes of minimizing Subtly's squirming then pulled the pocketknife from his belt and, with some reluctance, cut the end of the sock open. If this failed he was going to be annoyed, but he didn't think it would.

It fit. Subtly's eyes went wide as it slid into position over all of its ridges, though not covering the end of Subtly's cock. Taking its balls in one hand and cock in the other, Trevor returned to massaging the sensitive alien flesh.

The squirming, thrusting, and thrashing before was as nothing compared to what he witnessed now and as Subtly's hips thrust upward it pushed that cock through his hands. Its forelegs grasped at the air and its head lolled, tongue hanging out the side. Its eyes were entirely closed and its tail thrashed.

It didn't seem as though this could last for long and, sure enough, it didn't. With a final, deep moan and a powerful thrust of the hips, that long desired orgasm arrived. Unfortunately, Subtly's tail slammed into Trevor's buttocks, causing him to fall forward, wincing and grasping at his own crotch. Before he had a chance to realize what was happening he was laying on the cock now spurting its alien seed.

This seed quickly came to coat Trevor's shirt and chin, some even getting into his mouth and nose thanks to his initial confused response to the fall. It left a bitter taste in his mouth and tingled where ever it touched his skin. He scrambled off the alien, but it was far too late to avoid contact. Worse, in trying to wipe off some of the semen he managed only to spread it around.

 Subtly's mental voice was as calm as ever. When Trevor turned to look, the haltonian had rolled onto its side with one tentacle holding the damp former sock up. 

"You might want to try other materials," Trevor said. "Something with a less rough texture might be more pleasant.

Subtly just stared at him. <You revolutionize haltonian lifestyles and sexuality and you're worried about the texture?>

"If you use a non-porous material and seal one end it will probably work as a contraceptive as well," Trevor offered.

<Contraceptive?> For the first time one of Subtly's words was muffled; perhaps because Subtly was unfamiliar with the concept?

"To prevent pregnancy."

<Why would anyone want to do that?>

"You might want to ask some women about that rather than me. They could probably explain it better."

Subtly nodded and rolled onto its belly.  As it stood it tucked the sock into the pouch on its chest, damp semen and all.

"You want the other one as well?" Trevor had no particular use for a single sock, but dispensing sex-aids was not something he was particularly accustomed to.

<You'd part with both?>

"Sure, why not?" Trevor pulled the sock off and cut the end of this one open as well before handing it over to the alien. Subtly packed it away with the first.

 Subtly said. <I'll send you a few shares once I get started; it's the least I can do in return for what you've done for me. For all my kind.>

Trevor had stepped over to the hazardous materials waste can that security had installed and was stripping off his semen-coated gloves as the alien spoke. Then he felt the fingers of one of its tentacles on his shoulder and he turned just in time to receive a single, long lick from Subtly up his shirt and face. It did remove much of the semen, but that was to little advantage when it replaced it with just as much saliva. He wasn't sure whether saliva was any better to be covered in than semen was.

"Sure," he said. He wasn't sure he wanted shares in a haltonian sex-aid company, but he wasn't going to say no now that Subtly was in a cheerful mood. Perhaps it would forget. "When were you thinking of setting out?"

<I'll be taking the earliest ship heading that way. I can't wait to get started! Goodbye!> It turned and hurried out of the observation bay, the door opening readily for the large quadruped since Trevor had never locked it. As it left Trevor could see its penis still hanging slightly exposed, not to mention the drying semen stuck to its belly.

He shook his head; the hardest part was yet to come, but at least he'd be able to sit in a proper chair for it. Settling into the chair in the observation booth he pulled out his datapad and called the operations centre. The communications officer appeared, a young looking human woman.

"Station operations," she said.

"The haltonian is taken care of and will be leaving the station as soon as possible. My full report will follow in a little bit," he said.

"Glad to hear it. You might be interested in knowing that the managers are planning on reviewing the footage and your report as this is our first encounter with the haltonians."

"Um," he said. He glanced up at one of the cameras; he'd forgotten they were there.

"I imagine they'll find the footage interesting."

He flushed, his face burning. "I'll need to stop at the infirmary, then my quarters before I report in. I got some, ah, haltonian bodily fluids on me."

"So we saw," the communications officer told him.

His cheeks continued burning as he cut the connection. For a moment he just stared at the datapad; he needed to get moving, but he was definitely not looking forward to reporting in.

Finally, he managed to heave himself out of the chair. Perhaps the infirmary would make a mistake and kill him. He could always hope.

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