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"We haven't heard from Reverie since she left," Seldovia mentioned, fiddling with a silver earpiece. "Or 'it' left ... no, that doesn't sound right. She? Is it weird that we anthropomorphize ships?"

No response.

"Lieutenant?" Or was it lieutenant-commander?

"I'm busy," Sheila finally said.

"So am I," the pretty skunk defended. Her striped tail was immaculately groomed, the yin-yang, black-and-white fur bold in appearance. If I was edgier, I'd make a good 'femme fatale.' "Busy wondering why Reverie hasn't contacted us in six days." She was listening to the comm traffic. Trying to, anyway. There was nothing. From Reverie. Or Arctic. It was dead out there. "Should I be worried?"

"Freighters in the UT normally maintain radio silence. Standard practice," Sheila explained nonchalantly. "With all the piracy about, you don't want to broadcast yourself."

"So, they can't communicate at all?"

"There's no reason to unless they're nearby. If they must send a long-distance message, they'll use a coded frequency. To a casual observer, it'll looks like subspace static."

Seldovia blinked, tapping a few buttons on a nearby screen. She adjusted her earpiece again. "All I hear is white noise ... but I thought it was coming from the star in this system?"

"Might be. Might not. The codes are formulated by computer. You'll never notice them by ear. If they were easy to detect or decipher, there'd be no point." She trailed off and then added, "If you think you're getting a coded transmission, ask me or Petra. We'll be able to tell."

Frustrated and embarrassed, the skunk gave up. She'd never actually gone to school to become a comm officer. She was entirely self-taught. Learned everything while hiding from the rebels who stole her future throne. Hopefully, her lack of academic knowledge wouldn't prove to be a detriment. Removing the earpiece, she spun her swivel chair back and forth. Left to right. "So, how do we know they're okay?"

"We don't," Sheila said.

The skunk considered. And stopped swiveling. "Captain Peregrine seemed pretty competent ... "

The hare nodded distractedly. "I'm sure he knows what he's doing." She was pulling up some schematics of the lower decks. She and Seward were going to do some exploring later. Redwing Station was a big place.

"I think he bred with Petra when he was here ... " More than 'think.' It totally happened. The way they acted around each other?

"Probably."

"And she's in heat, now, you know? That's why she's off-duty. Stuck in her quarters." 'Heat leave.' Mandatory for female officers when their time came. To be in public while in such a state would've been very distracting for everyone. The leave was extended, by regulation, to the female's mate or chosen partner, but Petra's 'significant other' was obviously on Reverie. "I guess she could be in the holo-suite, actually. I keep forgetting those are online. I really should try them out." Need to brush up on giving muzzle ...

"Uh-huh."

"I will," the skunk insisted. Then paused and wondered, "What if he got her pregnant?"

"What?"

"Peregrine. Sperm can survive a few days in the female body, right? There could've been just enough left when her heat began. They seemed pretty eager. I seriously doubt they used protection ... " Her heat started two days after Reverie left. What if it had begun a bit earlier than that, before the symptoms had shown?

"She's not pregnant."

"How do you know?"

"Because they're savvier than that."

"You're probably right. But nature is savvier," the skunk pointed out, wisely. "Furs a lot smarter than them have accidentally knocked each other up. Anyway, if it happens, you heard me call it!"

"Mm." Sheila wasn't one for idle speculation.

"Are they mates? Lovers? What are they ... " Barrow probably knew all the details. He could read their minds, right?

"Horny rodents?" the hare suggested tiredly, looking over her shoulder. "I don't know. It's none of our business." She blinked, seeing the look in Sheila's eyes. "You stay away from Barrow."

"What do you mean?"

"You're going to flirt with him to get information."

"What? Me? No." She held her paw-pads up, innocently. She swished her tail, too.

The hare gave the skunk a whisker-stiff stare-down.

"Well ... " She fidgeted. Then scowled for a moment. "You're really no fun, you know that? Have you always been this serious?"

"Barrow doesn't need to be encouraged," Sheila added, looking back at the computer readouts.

"My job is to listen for and collect information, and he's a valuable source of that information!"

"He's also a scoundrel."

"And our only doctor. Better hope you don't get sick," Seldovia said.

"I won't," the hare assured.

"For someone you're sleeping with, you're awfully dismissive of him. I think he's charming." The skunk arched in her seat, curling her toes and dragging her bare foot-paws across the carpeted floor. "You don't like him even a little? I'm pretty sure he likes you."

"I neither like nor dislike him. We're just ... " She didn't know what they were. They were just ... just.

" ... yeah, I thought so. Why is it that none of the relationships on this station are easily definable? You and Barrow. Petra and Peregrine. Herkimer and Advent before they broke up. All this tension and drama. What happened to actually mating someone and being in love with them? When did that go out of style? I know I'm an ex-princess, but has true love really been reduced to a fairytale?"

"Happiness isn't native to the Uncharted Territories."

"Maybe it's not. But I am. And I want to be happy." She skipped a beat. "I want to be like the commander and ambassador. They're so adorable together!" She almost squealed thinking about it. "They're normal." At least I think they are. Unless there's something I don't know ...

"Well, good luck," the hare said, dryly.

She skunk made a face. "So, if you're not in love with Barrow, and you don't care about him, you wouldn't mind if I slept with him, too? Think he'd be open for that?" She wasn't going to. She wasn't a relationship-wrecker. But she wanted to see the hare's reaction.

Sheila clenched her jaw, those tall, silvery ears twitching near the tips. Her metallic fluff-tail flagged high. Clearly, the thought of the skunk breeding with the bat made her uncomfortable. Maybe even jealous? Or maybe she was just getting annoyed beyond her tolerance.

"Uh-huh. That's what I thought. You do like him! Or, at least, you've come to view him as 'yours' ... just admit it. You can trust me, lieutenant."

"Princess," Sheila said, as patiently as she could. God dammit. Why won't she shut up? "If I told you anything, the whole station would know before I left the room."

"Would not."

"No one likes a gossip."

"I'm not a gossip!" When did I pick up that reputation? It's totally unwarranted. "Anyway, it's not my fault everyone's life is more interesting than mine." I need a mate, is all. I need someone to keep me busy when I'm not, you know ... actually busy.

"You come from royalty. How is your life not interesting?" the hare demanded.

"Well, I'm poor as dirt, now. I have nothing!"

"Oh, the indignity," Sheila said, again with that acerbic sense of humor. "Welcome to the real world."

"Hey," Seldovia shot back angrily, "I've been in the 'real world' longer than you think. My parents were murdered. Maybe I wasn't a prisoner of the wasps, but I was abandoned by my home, my government. Just like you were with the Federation. I'm a nomad." She stopped to take a deep breath. Calm down. "So, we have something in common, whether you like it or not."

Sheila sighed, apologetically. Maybe that was true ...

"I don't even have a mate. Or a partner. Or a fuck toy. Or whatever it is Barrow is to you. It hurts, you know? All you other furs are engaged in these soapy, high-stakes romances that could get each other killed or whatever." Referring to Petra and Peregrine, now. "And maybe they're complicated relationships, but they matter, and they fill your time. Meanwhile, here I am with nothing but my job to look forward to, and guess what: there's nothing on duty, either. Just this fucking static. No one ever calls us! We're not important enough yet. Maybe we'll never be. So, how am I supposed to keep my mind from wandering into other furs' business?" she challenged passionately. Her dander was definitely up. She felt her negative spray instinct rise to the fore but clamped down on it. Don't want to let that loose. You'd have to evacuate Ops ...

The hare deactivated her screen and hopped up some steps, striding toward the main lift.

"Sheila?"

"Princess ... Seldovia," she corrected, politely. Or as politely as she could. "I like you just fine. I appreciate your problems. I really do." Sorta. "That being said, I'm not the right fur to tell them to." She just wasn't. She didn't have the empathy or the patience. She was a no-nonsense security officer. If you were going to come at her, you better do it confidently. Without doubt or pity. And confidence was something Barrow, for all his annoyances, possessed in spades.

"So, where are you going?"

"To explore the lower decks. Seward just got life support restored down there. We have the schematics in the database, but internal sensors aren't reliable in the areas near the power core."

"Why? Cause of radiation? That's not reassuring," the skunk said.

"There's no radiation to worry about. It's just interference from the power output of ... " She sighed. The skunk wouldn't understand. She'd never been to the Academy. Any academy. "The only way to find out what's down there is to check for ourselves. Until we can fix the damn sensor net." The day Reverie returned with their supplies, even if it wasn't all of them, would be a relief.

"Well ... alright." That meant she'd be alone in Ops. The commander hadn't shown up yet. He was sleeping in (with Annika, no doubt) after working a late shift last night, mostly composing and sending off the station's weekly logs and status reports to the High Command. He'd informed her of this before going to bed. And who knew where Advent was. She'd been cranky since Herkimer left her. Still performing her duties, mostly, but not open to socializing. And Herkimer was with Barrow. They were restoring the Promenade. "Keep a comm-link ready in case something goes wrong. I'll be here," the skunk insisted.

Sheila nodded and entered the lift. She was a lithe creature, full of coiled energy. Always looking like she wanted to user her large foot-paws to spin-kick someone into the nearest bulkhead. You just didn't mess with someone like her. Not unless you were asking for it.

As it whisked her away, Seldovia shouted, "Oh, hey! Say hello to Seward for me!" Seward. Hmm. He was the only unattached male left on the station, right? Well, wait, that wasn't quite true. There was Herkimer. But the mouse's eyes had been all over Talkeetna when Reverie was here. And Advent was a jealous ex. Too many obstacles there. What do I know about Seward, exactly? He's still getting over some war injuries. He's a bit more fragile than most snow rabbits. But he is a rabbit, nonetheless. A snow rabbit. Handsome. Must be quite virile ...

The skunk put her elbows on her console table, resting her chin in her paws with a sigh. I'm not an aggressor, though! I enjoy being wooed. I don't see him wooing me. As a princess, growing up, she was used to everything being done for her. You could say she was spoiled. She was even going to be betrothed, eventually, to some big masculine skunk prince. But like she'd told Sheila, enough years had passed. She'd grown. Changed. Suffered and scrounged.

Maybe that's the only bright spot about my current life? I have choices, now. There are actual possibilities. I'm not stuck in a defined role. I don't know the first thing about actively pursuing a mate, but who's to say I can't? Just flirt with him. With Seward. Maybe he'll respond? He'll have to. Yeah ...

She sat up, primping her tail and smiling toothily.

After all, who can resist a princess?

"When do you expect to hear back from the High Command?" Annika asked, a paw resting on Graham's bare, white-furred chest. They were both naked. In the same bed. And neither of them the least bit ashamed by it. They couldn't have been more relaxed. Her fingers curled around patches of his pelt, only to uncurl just as soon, as if she couldn't make up her mind as to what she wanted to do. There were so many different ways to touch him. Hard to choose. She eventually pressed her paw-pad flat against his barely-visible nipple. The fur almost hid it. But it was there. She rubbed it in a circular motion.

"Mm ... " A slow, heavy sigh. He liked that. The little nipple hardened, and he closed his eyes, again. He'd only woken up about five minutes ago. "It's hard to say," he finally answered. "From this far out, our reports may take a day or so to reach them." Or longer. There were communication buoys scattered all through snow rabbit space, including along the border. They formed a network. When you sent any long-distance message, it had to be transmitted from one buoy to the next until it was within range of the independent target. Took some time. Especially when you were this far from the message's destination. And factors like heavier-than-normal comm traffic or general subspace interference affected delivery time, as well.

"Mm-hmm ... " Her paw left the nipple. And moved right to the other one.

The commander opened his eyes, looking to the ambassador. "I rather suspect we're low on their totem pole. As much as I scold Sheila and Petra for mentioning it, they're right when they say the High Command is mainly interested in viewing us as an 'alarm' against possible enemy incursions. We're an early warning post against coming storms." Another sigh, pushing his chest up against her paw.

She gently pushed him back down.

"But they needed to tack on the part about 'society building' and being a 'beacon of civilization' to make the mission seem more palatable to the public." After all, seats on the High Command's High Council were based on elections. You had to please the populace. And despite all the wars they'd engaged in, and being victorious in all of them, the snow rabbits wanted to view themselves as a logical, peace-keeping species. They didn't want to be like predators. They had a veneer to maintain.

"If our mission is, as you say, 'low on the totem pole,' why should the public have cared?"

Graham turned onto his side, fully facing the female. And, oh, was she ever female. He reached between them to gently caress a breast. "I don't know. Perhaps I am off base. Regardless, until we can build Redwing into a viable hub of trade, commerce, diplomacy ... a place to live ... or maybe uncover some valuable technological secret," he said, trailing off. She had the most lovely breasts.

She gave one of those light, restrained snow rabbit smiles. "You were saying?"

"Mm?" He blinked. "Oh. Well ... just that I suspect we're truly on our own until we can warrant more resources and attention from back home." And he understood that. He wasn't bitter in any way. The health and safety of the Home-world came first. Then the other interior worlds came after. Then, of course, rebuilding the fleet to acceptable battle readiness for future conflicts. Not to mention exploration and policing of snow rabbit territory. With the neighboring Federation in a constant state of flux, who knew what would happen if they truly splintered apart? The High Command had to be ready for everything. The frontier wasn't their priority.

"Well, no matter ... " Annika sat up, the soft, linen sheets slipping from her body. Exposing her entire upper half. Her delicate belly, the curves at the top of her hips. Which led to a most-delectable rump. And, yes, those breasts again, which now hung with gravity, like snowy mountains with pink, perfect peaks. Only better. More beautiful. He would rather scale them than any rock. Scale them with his tongue. He'd done that last night.

Graham reached out to touch her, a paw sliding around her side. Moving to the small of her back. Just above her flame-white bobtail. "No matter, indeed," he echoed, quietly, pupils dilating as he drank her in. She was more intoxicating than any beverage or drug could hope to be.

She pulled the sheets fully away. Off both of them. The single blanket, too. Exposing their bodies to the bedroom air and moving to a straddle of her partner's hips, placing her paws flat on his chest. "It may be a while before we see any results here. We have to get the station running, first. We need defenses. And we need a runabout before we can start exploring the nearby planet. Need more staff to take on regular traffic." Maybe members of the Reverie crew would like to live aboard Redwing? Or maybe random passersby? It was going to be hard to grow their numbers. "Patience will be our virtue ... "

"Patience? I am the epitome of the word. Except when it comes to you, my dear." He lifted one of her paws off his chest and brought it to his muzzle, kissing the pad. And then suckling on a few random fingertips.

"Flattery."

"Truth," he countered.

She pulled her paw free, tracing his lips with a blunt, ebony-black claw.

He reached out to hold to her hips, pulling her a few inches closer, aligning her loins with his. He wanted her to feel something. "See what are you doing to me?"

Eyes shining with affection, she nodded. His erection was growing against her inner thigh. "I hope, before leaving this bed, that I will be able to do more."

"That hope springs in me, as well," he assured.

If snow rabbits could've outright laughed, she would've. But they couldn't. She could only mew with gentle mirth. "That much is obvious."

"Annika ... "

"Yes?" she asked, claw leaving his lips. Her fingers reached for an ear, instead. She gently traced their outlines. Such distinguished, slender lobes.

He shivered. "Do you think I am a good leader?"

"Of course. Why do you ask?"

"Many of the crew are native of this region." Advent, Seldovia, Petra, even Sheila to a degree. "They are used to anarchy. I am not an authoritarian. I wonder if my gentle approach to command makes them respect me less?"

She shook her head. "You are a calming, inspiring influence," she assured. "The way you treat those under command makes it easier for them to develop a heartfelt loyalty to you. Not harder." She was speaking as a diplomat, of course. Someone who believed that peace and reason were best solutions for any problem. Historically, that hadn't always proven to the case. But the only way to keep history from repeating itself was to change attitudes in the present. She had to try. They all did.

"I wonder if you are saying that only because you love me."

"I love you?" she echoed, teasingly.

He gripped her hips a bit tighter. "I should hope so ... "

"Then consider your hope confirmed." She did, indeed, love him. And she put a paw above his heart.

"I love you, as well," he confessed passionately, looking deeply into her ice-blue eyes.

She met his gaze.

"I know that mate-ships are not the norm amongst our species ... "

"No, they are not." The majority of snow rabbits were open-breeders. It had been that way forever. A combination of enhanced libido and emotional semi-detachment. Even though closed unions had become more accepted recently, those who truly engaged in them were still far and few between. "But you have something to ask me?" she guessed.

"Only that, if you should like to become my mate, I would feel compelled to be yours, as well," Graham breathed formally. His pulse had picked up. His heart was beating faster. Was that adrenaline? Was he afraid she'd say no? "The population here is quite small, and I can't imagine ... that is, I don't believe I shall find anyone more desirable than you."

"And if you are recalled to High Command space? To a populous planet or station? Full of females? What, then?"

"I have been in such postings before." Full of females, yes. In all their ripe variety. "But I was never as satisfied as I am now, with you. You satisfy me completely."

"Yet your cock tells me otherwise," she said, cheekily. It was incredibly stiff, now. She reached down and grabbed it, closing her fingers around the shaft. Giving a slow, firm squeeze. "I took care of it last night, yes? Your desires? If I satisfied you, why has it become needy again so soon ... "

"I, uh ... " His breath caught. It was very sensitive. Her touch! "Ah ... well. Yes. That is because," he said, mind suddenly hazing, "you satisfied me so well that I became unsatisfied with the prospect of never being satisfied again."

"Really?" She raised a brow in amusement. "You speak in circles. But I suppose a mate-ship mirrors that ... " A circle. A whole. She began to roll her hips in much the same fashion, lifting them just enough ...

... to let him comfortably move his into position, angling, bumping. His drooling tip smearing pre along her fleshy petals, her pink oasis surrounded by a thick sea of white fur. His paws stroked up her sides, then down again. She had much more self-control than he did. But, then, she was an ambassador. She'd been trained to not show her cards until the proper moment.

And that moment was now. She mewed for him. "I need you ... "

He pushed forward, into her. Her sweet feminine tunnel took him in, steamily surrounding his essence, all six inches or so. Slick, raw, like a furnace, like the wet antidote to thirsty desire. Her pussy. Poetry aside, that's what it was. And he hilted as deep as he could. His rump was sinking into the mattress, though, beneath her body's weight. The bed on one side of him and her loins on the other? He was only happy to be in that sandwich, but there wasn't much space to move back and forth, in and out.

"Let me do it," she mumbled. There was a look of pleasure on her face that couldn't be described.

He nodded hazily. "By all means ... "

She lifted her hips, bobtail pointing upward. It flickered crazily as she eased into a rhythm. She began riding Graham without pause, his achingly stiff member glistening with her nectar as it was steered about, appearing and disappearing in lewd flashes.

"Oh-h ... ah, Annika ... "

She delighted in his delight, bouncing more eagerly.

He moved a paw to the source of their union, fixing his thumb upon her clitoris and keeping it there, pressing down on it at random intervals. His other paw fondled her rump. Eyes glued to her jiggling breasts, he seemed caught off-guard when his orgasm came. He twitched inside her, dousing her womb with pulses of white, creamy seed. Grunting like an animal, paw falling away from her clit. He grabbed at her side, possessively. "Uh, h-huh ... uhg ... "

"Ah-h ... " She hunched over, arms stilting on his chest. Everything he was doing to her, she took. The wave built. Her pleasure crested, walls fluttering, shaking wildly. She mewed and whimpered, milking him dry. Panting 'til her throat was raw and the feeling tapered off, she slowly layed down atop him and whispered, "Graham ... "

" ... mm?"

"In case all that didn't make it clear, my answer to your question is yes," she promised against his cheek. "I will mate you."

Graham hugged her tightly. Tipsy on afterglow. He felt like he was floating. "Thank you, my darling. It means so much to me ... you," he corrected, still finding his breath, "mean so much ... "

Annika bumped noses with him and tilted her muzzle to the left.

He went right, opening his maw.

Their lips met in a kiss, a suckling, smacking one. It went on for seconds. When they parted, she laid her head on his shoulder.

Graham ran his paws up and down her back, breathing of her scent. Their mixed scents. "We are going to have to shower, now. And there is still the matter of breakfast before going on duty ... " As lax as life on this station was compared to serving aboard a proper ship or base, they still had to take their duties seriously. Mated or not, they were still officers of the High Command.

"Seldovia says hello, by the way," Sheila said, prying a panel off the wall. She let it drop to the floor and peered inside. No booby traps that she could see. But you could never be sure. She passed a scanner in front of the opening.

"Does she?" the snow rabbit replied, blinking, sorting the tools in his kit. He liked them arranged just so. He was on his knees behind the standing hare. "That's thoughtful of her."

"Uh-huh. Just don't be surprised if she tries to flirt you up in the near future," Sheila continued, putting her scanner away.

"Is she interested in me? In that way?" the snow rabbit asked, raising a brow. If so, this was the first he knew about it.

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Are you interested in her?"

"I have not really spent much time with her, to be honest." Or any time, really. "Our duties rarely overlap. She spends most of the day in Ops, and I spend it roving about fixing things."

"Makes sense."

"I admit I'm quite lonely, but ... " What were skunks like, as partners? "I've, uh, never bred outside my own species," he whispered. He felt weird or backward admitting that, especially to Sheila. But since they were on the subject ...

"Not that unusual. Mixed-species partnerships aren't as common on planets or large bases, since you're surrounded by furs just like you." That's not to say it didn't happen. It obviously did. Just that the demographics in outer space, on ships and solitary stations, tended to be way more diverse, so you were much more likely to end up with someone different. "I assume this is the furthest you've been from your home?"

He nodded quietly.

"And the High Command is mostly made up of snow rabbits."

"Yes ... "

"Mm." She made a clicking sound with her tongue. "If you want my opinion, you'd be a mismatch," she said, of him and Seldovia. "She's a chatterbox. And you're not that big a talker. She's former royalty, and you're extremely down-to-earth."

" ... yes, I was thinking that. But what other choice do I have? Advent? Loneliness?" Seward paused. Why not attempt it? "Aren't you and Barrow much the same? Opposites, I mean?"

The hare scrunched her face. Why the hell does every conversation about relationships come back to me and Barrow? "I don't know," she mumbled, ears bunching up. She checked a few of her security devices and then told the snow rabbit, "It's safe. We can open the door."

"Oh. Right." Seward nodded and stood up, shoving thoughts of sex and companionship aside for the moment.

"I see you ditched the cane."

"Yes. I'm feeling somewhat better. Barrow has certainly helped with that. He's a good doctor."

"I guess telepaths would be." They could connect with their patients in a way that non-telepaths simply couldn't. She'd never seen Barrow 'on the job.' Though, per regulations, all officers were required to get a bi-monthly physical. The bat had done plenty of things to her naked body but never in a professional setting. She'd be sure to give him a hard time when that came up ...

"The locking mechanism is fried. We're going to have to pry the doors apart."

"How heavy is it?" Sheila asked, paws feeling the metal. "Can you handle it? I don't want you to strain anything." No use in getting him reinjured.

"I can manage," Seward insisted. Even if he hadn't been able to, he wouldn't have admitted it.

"Right." Sheila pried her fingers into the crease where the two doors met. "On the count of three. One, two ... " She tensed. " ... three!" And pulled, grunting, muscles straining beneath her pelt.

Seward made similar, though deeper, grunting noises.

And, together, they got the doors halfway open. They easily slid into the bulkhead from that point. Dust swirled.

"Great. Faulty ventilation. And emergency lighting," Sheila said as she looked into the vast room beyond the doors. "The wiring's gonna have to be completely replaced down here."

"Add it to the list," Seward said, with as much sarcasm as a snow rabbit could muster.

Sheila strapped a paw-beacon to her furred wrist, activated it, and slipped through the doorway, aiming her light-beam against the walls. "Huh ... "

"What?"

"There are fences. Over in the corner ... "

"Why would a station need fences? Force fields do the same thing more effectively."

"Does the station have force field technology? I mean, we haven't tried to use one yet ... "

"I just assumed. It has to ... " If not, they'd need to jury-rig some of those, too. Force-fields were very important. "There's got to be a system in place. What did the builders do when they had hull breaches? Stick clay in the holes?"

"Maybe the station's force-fields are external only. Not internal."

"High Command technology is much more organized. I can't wait until this place gets a complete overhaul."

"Well, I guess that's why avians are bird brains," the hare remarked. A rare joke from her. Even though she didn't smile while delivering it. She approached the said fence, reaching out to rattle it. "A lot firmer than it looks. Gonna need a phase pistol to cut through this." She whipped out her weapon.

"But I brought a laser torch," Seward said, logically.

Sheila, raising her arm and pointing her pistol, said, "I like my idea better." She fired the weapon, the ruby-red beam lancing out. She moved it in a large, circular pattern, cutting a hole big enough to step through. Once the smoke cleared, that's exactly what she did.

Seward followed her, bumping right into her backside. He mewed in surprise! "Why'd you stop? What's wrong?"

"See for yourself ... "

Seward peeked over her shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of ...

" ... skeletons?" Graham said, standing in the infirmary. "There's more than one?"

"Apparently. But I only had enough room on the mag-cart to bring one of them back," Barrow said, powder-blue wing-arms gesturing about. His angular ears leaned back on his head. "Once transporting the bones back up here, I put them on the bio-bed like puzzle pieces. Not all of the bones are present. I couldn't find half the tail on this one ... "

The commander circled the bio-bed, bobtail raised, a concerned look on his brow. "How old is it?"

"Three hundred? Maybe more ... "

"Years?" Annika said, mostly from surprise. It was obvious that's what the bat had meant.

"That's almost a century before my species ventured out of its home system," Graham whispered. "Do you know what species it was?"

"Yeah." Barrow hesitated. "Mouse."

Sheila, who'd returned with Seward, crossed her arms and squinted. "You know, when I said that the builders of the station ate live prey, I was only being twisted. I didn't think it was actually true ... "

Seward had to look away, being the most sensitive soul in the room. He didn't want to have another panic attack. Not in front of everyone. He looked to Graham for silent permission to be excused.

The commander nodded gently.

The engineer promptly left.

Once he was gone, Barrow answered Sheila with, "Well, you might've been right. There's evidence of blunt force trauma in the skull. As if the brains were, shall we say, extracted. And from the scans I did of the other skeletons ... " There were at least a dozen down there. " ... they were all prey. All in that cage." That's what it was, right? "I want to be wrong, but I don't think I am."

"Prey. Like us," Annika said, very quietly. There was an extreme sadness to her tone.

"Yeah. Well." Barrow paused. This didn't set well with him, either. But he was a doctor. He was used to blood, guts, and gore. "I don't know if there were any bats or rabbits, specifically, but I assume they didn't feast on just one species." Which would lead credence to the builders being some kind of 'bird of prey.' Kestrels? Falcons? Eagles? Something of the sort.

"That's barbaric," the ambassador continued, unable to comprehend. "How ... why would civilized creatures do such a thing?"

"I don't know," Graham said. And, truthfully, he didn't want to know. This day had started off so wonderfully. Sleeping in. Annika agreeing to be his mate. Making love in bed. A nice breakfast. All that happiness felt like a distant memory, now. "I want these remains gathered and processed. We'll give them a quiet proper jettison into space." He paused, adding, "I would appreciate it if Herkimer doesn't find out about this?"

"Yes, sir," Barrow said seriously. He'd become good friends with the mouse.

The commander looked to Sheila. "Did you find anything else down there?"

She hesitated. "As a matter of fact ... " She opened Seward's tool-kit. He'd forgotten to take it with him. "I don't know what it is. An artifact of some sort? Very old. It's giving off intense power readings, almost matching the output of the station's core itself. Yet it's not technically active ... "

"It's the size of a grapefruit. How is that possible?"

"Beats me. It doesn't do anything that I can tell ... or, at least, I haven't been able to make it work. But it makes my scanner spike every time. It matches no furry or avian design in the High Command database."

"Could it be human?" Barrow hypothesized. Had anyone actually seen one of those?

"Or dragon." Weren't avians and reptiles related, somehow? "It could come from the nearby planet," Annika suggested. "There may be ruins there. Similar to the 'Gateway' ruins scattered about furry space. And if Redwing used to orbit that planet ... " The 'Gateways' were portals that advanced dragons had constructed thousands of years ago to allow for instant travel from world to world. They'd evolved to a different physical state or gone extinct or something. And most of the Gateways had been destroyed in their absence. Only one or two had even been uncovered, but they were inactive.

"Well, we don't have the fur-power or appropriate space vehicles to explore the planet just yet," Graham said. "But I would like to go through every deck of the station. I want to finish cleaning this place up." Then they could move to actual repairs and upgrades.

"We only have a quarter of it left," Sheila said, nodding. "We didn't find anything else unusual. Just ... well, this stuff here. Hopefully, it's just an isolated thing."

Graham clasped his paws behind his back. "Take a break for lunch and resume your exploration. I may join you myself when you're ready."

"Right." Sheila strode off, out the infirmary and onto the Promenade.

Barrow, seeing the look on Graham's face, offered, "You know, this place, this station ... is extremely old. It's from a different time. It's bound to have secrets. And in the Uncharted Territories, secrets are usually dark. Don't get too caught up in it. None of what happened in Redwing's past changes our present or future. We're still who we were this morning. We're still on the right track ... "

Graham, while listening to this, nodded and looked to Annika, his warm, kind-hearted mate. She looked back at him with a gentle smile. And when she did, all seemed right in the universe. Whether it was or not was immaterial. It gave him hope.

Sheila, on her way to get lunch in Ops and steeling herself for more of Seldovia's rambling, heard a squeaky coughing noise. And sniffling, too. Someone was crying. Blinking, she stopped short. Took another turn into a nearby corridor. "Herkimer?" she said.

The grey-furred mouse was sitting against a wall under a flickering overhead light, hugging his knees to his chest, tail lying limp on the carpet.

"Hey ... Herkimer," the hare said, again, voice softening. She approached him and crouched down.

He finally looked up, rubbing his reddened eyes with his paws. He didn't say anything, though. Just cleared his throat weakly. His whiskers were drooped.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Sheila asked. But even as she asked, she was already guessing the answer ...

"What the fuck were you thinking, Advent? Fucking bitch," Sheila spat, bursting through the sliding doors of the dimly lit ward room.

The jaguar, sitting alone at the head of the conference table, looked up coolly, a tuna sandwich in her paws. She replied, with her mouth full, "Oh, it's you."

"Why did you tell Herkimer about those skeletons? How did the hell did you even know about that, anyway?" the hare asked, crossing her arms. Then uncrossing them. Then putting her paws on her hips. She was hardly able to contain herself.

"Histrionics, any?" Advent muttered. "Look, the station's 'public area' security cameras can be monitored by anyone. " She shrugged, her spots appearing darker than normal in the low light.

"So, you were eavesdropping on our meeting in the infirmary?" Didn't she have anything better to do?

"Herkimer had the right to know what you found. We all did." The feline chewed for a while and swallowed. "Freedom of information. He would've found out eventually."

"Maybe you're right." Sheila approached the table and put her paws on the edge, leaning over to whisper, "But I have a feeling you didn't give Herkimer a tasteful, respectful description of the situation."

"Your 'bosom bat' tell you that? Everyone knows predators used to hunt prey. And not just feral prey, either. It's no use pretending it didn't happen."

"We're millennia beyond that." They were supposed to be, anyway. The fact that Barrow's scans said all this happened only three hundred years ago? It was just a number, but it was incredibly disturbing. "It's a sordid part of furry history that just isn't discussed."

"So, we should've all kept it a secret from Herkimer? Conspired to keep him in a naïve bubble? I was doing him a favor. I was the only one who wasn't going to lie to him."

"Shut up," the hare barked. "You must've used some vivid detail, because Barrow's having to telepathically calm Herkimer down. He's unbelievably scared. You made the story as macabre as possible, didn't you?" Sheila asked, standing upright again.

"Big word," Advent quipped.

"You were taunting him. Getting back at him for breaking up with you."

"He's a fucking mouse. They get scared at the drop of a hat."

"Tell that to Peregrine's face when Reverie comes back."

Advent gritted her sharp teeth. "A very rare exception," she admitted slowly. "Now. Leave me alone." She reached for a brownie.

Sheila pinned the jaguar's wrist down.

"Touch a cat's food, you die," Advent breathed dangerously, beginning to growl from the throat. The fur on her nape stood on end.

"You so much as breathe on one of Herkimer's whiskers, and I'll pin your hide to the wall," the hare promised, speaking fast and furious. "Got it?"

"An empty threat." Advent started to laugh, dismissively. "You know what? As big as you carry yourself, you're just ... "

Sheila used one of her big foot-paws to pull Advent's chair away from the table, spin it around. Then flip it over. In a flash.

The feline yowled as she found herself staring at the ceiling.

The hare wrestled the jaguar away from the chair and straddled her belly, pinning her shoulders down. "Just what? Huh? Don't tempt me."

"Into what? Sex? If only I had my dildo ... "

Sheila shoved the jaguar into the floor. Hard. With a sneer.

Advent struggled but couldn't free herself, claws fully unsheathing. She wanted to place about ten streaking scars in the hare's pelt. But she thought better of it. Not that she'd lost this fight. I'm just going to be the bigger fur and not prolong it.

Swallowing and sucking air, Sheila let Advent go and stood up, panting, then pausing to swipe the brownie from the table. She took a bit chocolaty bite. To the victor go the spoils. She padded toward the door.

Coughing, the spotted got back into her chair and claimed, "You're no better than me, you know."

The hare looked over her shoulder.

"You're no angel. Who are you to pass judgment?"

"I am an angel, Advent. An avenging angel." She was a security officer. Always had been. Always would be. It was woven into her moral fabric. "I protect those who can't protect themselves."

"Well, aren't you special," she breathed back.

Sheila matched her golden-eyed gaze. Took another bite of the brownie. And left.