FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"What the hell happened here..."

It had been several hundreds of years since humanity developed the space-travelling technology, which finally granted humankind the ability to venture outside of their own solar system. What they found was confusing, intriguing and, in some cases, terrifying.

Aliens, straight out of fantasies, were real. There were space stations, trading various goods and services, countless planets to visit, with their own unique life forms, wildlife and sentient species, and, of course, mercenaries, who accepted different contracts from the highest bidders.

Hugh was one of the latter - a human from the Blazing Bullet starship crew - living his life from one assignment to another, slowly filling up his interstellar bank account with funds for his retirement.

Nothing promised trouble about the job the captain took the last time they were at the Aurora Trading Station. Deliver supplies to a research facility on Epochos, the dusty desert-like planet, get out, collect payment. No hassle, no gunfights, no other crews messing things up for you. This, however, was something entirely different.

"Jake, report!" the captain, a grumpy man by the name of Samuil, barked into the commlink.

"Never seen anything like it, Sam..." the stocky bearded technician of the crew replied to the voice in his earpiece, "It looks like whoever was here was... disintegrated. I'm picking up the ionizer signatures in alarming numbers."

The whole facility the men found themselves in was without a single soul, the scanners confirmed. There were only occasional claw gashes on the walls or corners and a few scorch marks here and there. Bret, the young pilot of Blazing Bullet, nervously gripped an energy rifle. It was weapon of choice that he took with him to every deal, anxiously checking every hallway for anything unusual.

"I got something," the haunting silence was broken by the medic of the small human crew, Lucas, "There are DNA traces everywhere here. Mostly airborne."

"What do you mean airborne? Are these traces draconian?" inquired the captain.

"Yes, draconian. I mean, whatever was left of the poor saps who worked here is now, well, scattered in the wind. Literally." Lucas grimly stated.

The contract Samuil scored for his crew stated that they simply needed to take the goods to a small research facility that hosted a couple of dozens of wingless dragon-like aliens, namely the draconians. The recent developments had surely complicated things for the Blazing Bullet mercenaries, however.

"You know anything that could do such a thing to someone, Hugh?" Jake asked quietly, his voice barely heard over the crew commlink channel.

"No," replied the weapons chief, while staring at the claw gashes deeply embedded into one of the facility consoles.

---

"Bullshit. We made it halfway through the whole damn galaxy only to find that no one was there to collect the Christmas presents and now we're told we won't get paid because of that?" grumbled the pilot, giving one of the supply crates the crew was supposed to deliver a kick.

Blazing Bullet had just entered hyperspace, travelling at five hundred light speeds back to the Aurora station. Autopilot subroutines were engaged, all support systems online and fully functional and there was enough fuel for the journey back to the where the apparently failed contract started. Now there was only one thing left to do for the disheartened humans - waiting.

"Hey, I don't like this either, you hear me?" growled the captain. He was leaning against the wall of the cargo bay, trying to get his thoughts together after a heated conversation with their employer. "We will get some credits for the data we gathered there at least. It still doesn't make any sense."

"From how it looked, there was a struggle there, but I wouldn't be able to say what exactly happened. As far as I'm concerned those draconians that worked there might have made all those nasty scratches on the walls themselves." said Hugh thoughtfully.

The weapons chief was seated on the other side of the cargo bay at the repair station. It was the invaluable tool on any spaceship that allowed restructuring and patching up of clothes and weapons.

"So what, those reptiles just suddenly started tearing their place up? Doesn't sound convincing," mumbled Bret.

"Who knows?" sighed Sam, "Jake and Lucas are going over the logs that we got from that facility. Maybe there will be at least something there that might clear things up a little and that we can present to our employer to get extra credits."

"It'll take us a couple of days to get back to Aurora, so I hope they do find the answers." sighed the pilot.

---

Lucas would still cringe as he recalled the conversation with their draconian employer that he unfortunately had to be a part of. When the Blazing Bullet crew found no workers in the research facility, the captain made the call straight away using one of the few working terminals there. Heated words were thrown by Sam at a pale-red old reptile that talked to them and that geezer was visibly infuriated himself, but Lucas could tell that the lizard was more upset about what happened to the researchers than about the failed cargo delivery. In the end the draconian requested the crew to collect as much data as they could and bring it back.

"Why couldn't we simply send them the data? Why do we have to do this the old way and bring it back in person?" wondered the medic.

Jake, who was typing commands on the ship's computer terminal, chuckled slightly.

"Maybe they don't want it to leak somewhere, I don't know," he replied, "This, however, is a royal fuck up on their end - the key for accessing that facility database is the same for decrypting whatever they had in there. Don't know about you, but I'm curious to see what's inside."

"Uh-huh," Lucas laughed half-heartedly, "Curiosity killed the cat, remember? And if you're really going to dive in there, try not to kill the power to the life support this time."

"Yeah, whatever."

Suddenly, the terminal display flickered violently for a fraction of a second.

"Ah, c'mon! Don't you die on me now!" swore the technician, giving the console terminal a slight punch, "I know I fixed you the last time we were ashore, you blasted piece of crap!"

"Hey, it's finished!" The medic pointed at one of the windows on the reanimated screen, getting a little excited himself.

The decryption software brought up a report, stating that the task was indeed complete and there were no errors, but what confused the two men, haunched over the terminal, was that there were only a few files.

"Huh..." Jake raised an eyebrow, "I thought we'd get more."

Warily he executed the biggest file, expecting to see an archive full of text, audio and probably video logs. The terminal however had other plans for the unlucky crew: the display started flickering again, the speakers made a few screeching noises and the whole thing shut down plunging the whole ship into darkness for a few seconds while the machine automatically restarted. The technician swore colourfully.

"Jake, Lucas, what the hell was that!?" came the captain's shouting from the intercom a few seconds later.

The two men sat there in front of the loading machine, looking at each other as if trying to telepathically decide who'd be the one to answer Sam's question. Meanwhile a small line of code flashed on the terminal display in an alien language before disappearing.

---

The scrawny pilot of the spaceship was glad that the day was coming to an end. Too many disappointments and things going wrong. First, they never found the draconian scientists that they were supposed to deliver the cargo to, then they got told they won't get their promised payment and, to top it all, the ship's computer had gone haywire.

"I wonder if it can get any worse," Bret exhaled as he laid down on the bed in his room.

Thankfully, ship controls were on a separate subsystem when systems had crashed. Otherwise, there would be a wrecked spaceship floating in open space, torn apart by whatever they might have crashed into if they got thrown out of their hyperspace tunnel. That thought scared the pilot.

"Ugh, why is it so hot in here..."

It was finally time for him to get some sleep after the crew managed to stabilise all of the spaceship support systems, but the human simply couldn't get comfortable in his own bed. He felt sore and kept tossing around, the covers hurling in all possible directions.

"Computer," Bret finally addressed the ship's AI from his bed, "What's the temperature in this room?"

"The temperature in this room is 25C, Bret," replied the bodiless voice from the intercom speaker, "Do you want me to increase it?"

The pilot was startled. 25 Celsius? Why would the temperature be so high all of the sudden?

"Who set the temperature to this value?" grumbled the human.

"This is the default temperature set on this spaceship. It was not changed."

Default? Wasn't the default one somewhere around 20?

"Do you want me to increase the temperature in this room, Bret?" the AI asked again.

The pilot was confused. Maybe Jake broke something again when he was fixing that thing a few hours ago. But strangely, for some reason, the simple inquiry from the AI sounded very appealing.

"Yes, bring it up to 27C." the pilot finally said.

The temperature in the room quickly rose and, surprisingly, Bret felt better. The human laid back on his bed and stretched, feeling a few joints making satisfying popping sounds. A wave of warm dizziness washed over the human and he finally managed to get comfortable, his thoughts becoming hazy. As he laid there on his bed, the covers completely discarded and piled nearby on the floor, the skin on his back and shoulders grew taut and became slightly discoloured taking on a barely visible dark-purple hue.

---

The view out of the cockpit of the spaceship was always amazing whenever Blazing Bullet was in hyperspace. Stars and various solar systems flashing by, millions of colours, lazily bouncing off each other, illuminating the small windowed room of the ship when the lights were dimmed. The captain was sitting alone in the pilot's spot, watching the lights dance and part as the ship was racing across the galaxy.

Usually that little miracle of a view of space-travelling helped him think about the future, the possible contracts, what needed to be bought and repaired in order to keep Bullet capable of flying. Now Sam's thoughts were sluggish and unfocused. The human was simply sitting there, staring ahead and watching the mesmerising lights.

One thing troubled him: he was worried about the state of the crew morale. He had been flying with the current members of Blazing Bullet for years. Together they had their ups and downs, but this time there were just too many failed contracts stacking up on top of one another. While Sam encouraged openness about this issue and was always open for discussion, he knew that none of his men would bring it up. This was just the way space mercenary business worked - if you're not happy about something, you leave without a fuss, find yourself a new ship and carry on.

Letting out a small sigh, the captain scratched his chin and kicked back in his seat not noticing that the nails on his hand had become slightly pointed.

---

"I'm telling you, this is not normal research." the technician pressed on.

Jake and Lucas had stayed up late, both anxious about what they could find in the salvaged data and very tired. Their findings, however, had brought little joy to them so far.

"Define normal." Lucas countered.

"Zero-phase augmentation, Pulse sequencing, Cold juncture shifting... I can't understand half of this crap here! And this thing right here, something about mind control, is really nasty." Jake retorted.

"And what do you want us to do about it? Report those draconians? Where would that get us?" the medic, just as disturbed by what they had found as Jake, almost growled. The more he and the technician were closer to figuring out what experiments were done in that facility, the more hazy Lucas' thoughts became. Staring at the screen of the console, going through the alien data, was making him unusually tired. What confused him even more was that weird faint buzzing that he could swear was coming from somewhere. With a grunt the medic pulled off his shirt and flopped back in his chair, wincing a little bit as he sat on his tailbone.

"Wha..." Jake trailed off as he saw Lucas discard half of his clothing. Was that guy always that buff? Strong defined muscles could clearly be seen on the medic's torso and arms. Wait, he had not just been checking out his crew mate, had he? But there was something wrong: Lucas' skin was discolouring right before Jake's eyes, taking a more tanned look and getting tougher, almost leathery and somewhat segmented. As the medic stretched back in his seat, the technician saw some weird-looking bone spikes breaking through the skin of the guy's forearms.

"What was that?" Lucas asked after he finished yawning. That yawn had granted Jake a look at the other man's strangely sharp teeth.

The technician was suddenly overwhelmed by an unknown but pleasant smell. It was earthy and musky, relaxing and strong. What was it? Where was it coming from? Jake shook his head trying to get his thoughts together and turned towards the console screen, but his eyes soon drifted back to the other guy in the room of

their own accord.

Lucas was still leaning back in his seat, a relaxed look on his face. He was slowly massaging his sore arms, not paying attention to the thick dark claws that his fingertips now ended with. Each second his skin was becoming tougher, his belly taking a slightly lighter coloration compared to the rest of his torso.

"Hey, man..." Jake managed to say as he got hit by another wave of the delicious smell, making him feel hot and out of breath. Strange thoughts wormed their way into the technician's mind. Two lumps appeared on his forehead, swollen and steadily growing, applying even more pressure on his confused mind. Then the pressure was suddenly relieved as the toughening skin on those lumps broke painlessly and two small ebony horns started steadily growing out of the technicians forehead.

Both men felt warm and pleasant as the changes slowly progressed. Surprisingly neither of them could say that something was out of place - to Jake and Lucas the whole process was akin to waking up after a long sleep and stretching their muscles.

The feeling of horns, strong and proud, growing from Jake's head made the technician forget about everything in the whole galaxy for a moment. He was just sitting there beside his crew mate, staring with a vacant look in his eyes at the console again. Lines of alien code were running on the display of the machine, going back and forth, and, after some time, Jake could almost recognise what was written there in the language that was unknown to him. Just like Lucas, the changing human started slowly taking off the upper portion of his garments, making the medic, who immediately fixed his eyes on his colleague, drool slightly in his dazed stupor.

Sliding the fabric over his new half-grown dark horns, Jake sighed in relief. It was much better now and a lot less hot without that stupid shirt on.

"I think I've had enough data mining for today, man..." said the horned man in a much deeper voice than before as he shakily stood from his seat, "Feeling tired, I'll go take a nap..."

When the technician left the console terminal and started talking, Lucas was finally brought out of his dream-like state. A little embarrassed to nod off like that, the medic shook his head trying to cast away the wave of fatigue that crashed in on him out of nowhere a few minutes ago and grunted his acknowledgement. What had not escaped Lucas' attention however was that Jake had grown at least twice his size since they both started working with the salvaged data. With what little stretched-taut clothing that remained on him, the technician was becoming strong and imposing with impressive muscles clearly defined under his leathery green hide. Tough-looking darker green large scales were appearing on technician's broad shoulders, the boney spikes on his forearms were both menacing and attractive. But, hadn't Jake always been like that?

"Sure, man," said the other man in his own low growling voice, "I'll be here for a while longer."

"Don't stay up too late, Akilos." grunted the technician. He adjusted his pants that were already ripping in the back, giving room for a long powerful tail to grow. Needless to say, neither the low rumbling voice of his crew mate, nor how he addressed his crew mate rang any alarm bells in the changing man's mind.

Yawning, Jake tiredly walked out of the medbay heading towards his room, awkwardly massaging his aching tail as he went with a clawed hand.

---

Just like almost every other crew member of Blazing Bullet, Hugh had long ago discarded his clothing, but, seeing as he was practically working in complete solitude with the ship's guns, he allowed himself some more liberty. The weapons chief was deep in the guts of the spaceship defenses, only the lower part of his body sticking out from under one of the massive energy converters that lined up the walls of the biggest room of the middle deck. His pants, shirts and underwear were laying nearby, completely forgotten.

The nude man was finding it hard to concentrate on his task though. Every now and then his mind would wander places and his hand would drift towards his stiffening member of its own accord.

"Damn it..." growled Hugh. The fact that it was unbelievably warm in the gun room didn't do much good either - it made the man feel light-headed, images of his scaled crew mates occasionally coming up in his mind. Their strong horned forms, powerful fur-tipped tails, sharp claws scratching the metal floor as he asserted his dominance right up their leathery behinds...

No, it was useless to try doing any work right now. Grunting in irritation the weapons chief closed the panel of the converter and started crawling out from under the machine. He was almost free from the enormous mechanism when his horns bumped on its edge making the man swear.

If anyone who had known Hugh saw him now, they would never believe it was really him. While the human had always been quite big, with good layer of extra weight hiding his impressive musculature, he was now even bigger than before and his frame was quite clearly defined. His majestic black horns were curving back along his hairline before going up and ending in sharp strong points. The almost black dark-blue hair on his head was much thicker, but no longer existent on the sides of his head. His beard was replaced with a thick dark-blue growth covering his powerful lower jaw and connected with the bushy sideburns on the sides of his face.

As the rapidly changing, lust-addled human stretched on all fours on the metal floor of the deck, his eyes closed and a look of bliss crossed his more angular and savage face while the nails on his hands and three-toed feet pushed into proper thick black claws. Brownish large scales were covering his shoulders and muscled thighs. His thick solid tail, now the natural extension of his upper body, was curling slightly upwards with the furred tip of it slightly swaying in the air. His skin had already been warped into a thick scaly orange hide worthy of a proud draconian.

Hugh's manhood underwent even more drastic changes, becoming bigger and thicker, reaching an impressive fifteen inches of virile tapered flesh. Several spines and ridges decorated it and showed his draconic heritage. His testicles got closer to his body before sliding into their new place right under the changed rod, becoming internal and growing much larger than they ever were.

The weapons chief couldn't hold out any longer. With a rumbling growl he almost crashed on his side, sending strong vibrations across the whole floor, and finally gripped his altered equipment in his massive clawed hands. The thicker and slicker bright-red skin of his shaft could barely register the ebony daggers that came out of his fingers, bringing a completely new high to the man as he was slowly, but steadily pleasuring himself. In his mind visions of his crew mates were calling out his name as they were pounded by him, aggressively but passionately and lovingly. His name, Garr...

For a moment Hugh got the feeling that something was wrong, that there was something he was missing. That feeling, however, instantly vanished as the doors leading to the middle deck slid open and a tsunami of the most pleasing scent assaulted Garr's senses. The draconian sniffed the air, taking deep breaths with his nose, the nostrils on his fierce but remotely human face flaring. He turned his head towards the source of the delicious scent, slowly opening his brightly-glowing amber eyes. It was another one of his kind... Well, of course it was! All of his crew mates were just like him after all - they were all proud draconians.

With a confident fanged smile on his face, Garr got up on his clawed three-toed feet and started moving towards the wonderful scent, his intents quite clear as his neglected shaft was at its full mast between his muscled legs.

---

Sorkan yawned and rubbed his face roughly as he woke up in the pilot's seat. He hated falling asleep like that in the cockpit, but sometimes, when fatigue got the best of him, he just couldn't help it.

"Computer, report." he growled huskily and suddenly, a moments after he said those words, he was wide awake.

"All systems functional. Flight speed is 502 LS. Estimated time of arrival to Aurora Space Station is 83 hours," replied the AI, "Do you have any further inquires, Captain Sorkan?"

The man was only half-listening to what the computer told him. The words he spoke to the machine... It was not his voice. That simple request was said in a low gravely rumble worthy of a beast of an alien, not of a human being. Wait, what did the AI call him? Sorkan?

"Do you have any further inquires, Captain Sorkan?" the computer of the spaceship asked again.

Yes, Sorkan. That was his name, right? There was nothing special about it, or... Wasn't his name something else? The captain gripped his head, trying to remember, but found no success.

"No, computer." the man grunted in the same strange new voice still clutching his head.

Something was wrong, seriously wrong. An unexpected jab in his cheek jolted the man from his thoughts, making him take his hands away from his face. His fingers were wrong - they had thick sharp claws instead of simple nails and these claws were slowly darkening with each passing second. Sorkan, no, Samuil... Yes, Samuil! That was his name! Sam glanced around the cockpit in panic, half expecting to see Joresh, his pilot, sitting there in the seat next to him. But there was no one in the room but him. Something was happening, something was changing him, messing with his head!

The lights of the hyperspace tunnel Blazing Bullet was flying in gave off a bright flash, illuminating the entire cockpit for a few seconds, and Sam's heart fell down into his feet when he briefly saw his own reflection in the glass windows in front of him. His face was angular and rough, almost feral-looking, with two dark horns growing out of his forehead. And his eyes! He noticed that only now, but in the dim light his eyes had been glowing in a bright amber colour since he had woken up. Frightened, the captain brought his shaking hands up to feel the new bone additions that now crowned his head. Both horns were hard as stone, with countless small spikes and ridges on them, and they were anchored deep into the man's skull.

Sam started panicking. He knew what alien species this kind of horns belonged to - the draconians. He was changing into a draconian. Another look at his hands confirmed that his human nails were gone and now replaced with black vicious claws. The skin on the backs of his hands were impossibly tough and looked almost like a scaled dark-grey hide.

Breathing hard and deep Sam pushed himself out of the pilot's seat and stood up on his wobbly legs. He felt terribly sore and every bone in his body was slightly aching, like back when he was a kid and had growing pains. He needed help. He was changing into a goddamn horned wingless dragon alien!

Unsteadily, he made it to the doors leading out of the head of the spaceship and, as the doorway slid open, the captain almost fell flat on his face when a jolt of pain wracked his tailbone. The draconians had tails, big powerful tails ending with a tuft of fur. It only made sense that he would grow one himself if he was indeed becoming a member of that reptile alien species. His clothing felt impossibly tight all over his frame as his body was slowly beefing up, converting whatever fat he had into hard muscle. A sickening rip later some of the pressure above his butt disappeared and a quick look behind him confirmed that there was a small new appendage slowly growing out of his spine.

The sight of the new tail the captain now possessed made the poor man's heart beat even faster, in a way accelerating the changes, but also making him emit a strange smell. The smell of a powerful male, virile and unbreakable. The smell of the leader. Sam's nostrils flared a little as he got a whiff of it, his changing brain immediately identifying what his new scent meant. No! He must get help before it got any worse!

The captain got back on his feet and another ripping sound made him loose his concentration - his footwear was destroyed as it almost exploded from his swelling feet that now had only three toes, each of which endowed with a deadly black claw. The soles of his feet had become leathery and tough, not feeling the cold of the steel floor any more. Breathing even faster and panicking even more, Sam took off down the spaceship's hallway, hoping to find someone from his crew.

Muffed grunting and growling noises made him stop as soon as he got down to the middle deck of the ship. His ears, now pointed and dark-grey just like the rest of his thick hide, could hear a lot better than his old human ones, even through the closed doors of his spacecraft. Oh, God. Was he not the only one who was changing? With uneasy careful steps the captain got the the door leading to the ship's guns. Gar- no, Hugh was supposed to be there, tinkering with the cannons as he always did. If this change was affecting not only Sam, but his crew as well, he had to find a way to reverse this! He had to find a way to fight this affliction and hold on to his waning humanity for the men he was in charge of. Hesitantly he opened the doors into the room the grunting was coming from.

The sound of his claws clicking against the steel floor was loudly ringing in the captain's pointed ears even with all the noise the energy converters made. The first thing he saw after he stepped into the arms room was a pile of clothes, laying there abandoned and discarded near one of the machines. There was also an earthy musky scent, a strong one. One that roared power and dominance. It made the captain tense and the changing man started unconsciously flexing his black deadly claws, looking for the one who this scent belonged to, completely forgetting about his weapons chief. He would not tolerate anyone who would so blatantly declare their superiority on his ship! Whoever this whelp was, Sorkan would teach him a lesson he would never forget. Sorkan would make sure that this arrogant creature submitted to his will.

"Hey there, Captain," a low rumbling voice finally broke the silence.

Sam instantly turned in the direction that voice was coming from, slightly crouching, as if he was ready to pounce on anyone in a second's notice, his growing tail whipping from side to side. What he saw, however, startled him enough to drop his guard.

It was Hu- Garr, leaning against one of the converters to the right from the captain of the ship and grinning a mouth full of sharp carnivorous teeth. He was almost completely changed. Gone was the human weapons chief. In his place now stood a big, almost seven feet tall, naked draconian with scaled orange hide, curved black horns, dangerous claws and a raging crimson tapered erection that was rooted in some sort of a genital slit between his legs. As soon as the captain's eyes noted that particular part of Garr's anatomy, they became glued to that spot. Part of him wondered if his own package would get the same treatment and it would get as big as his crew member.

"No need to be so tense, Sorkan..." the draconian said in a calming tone, as much as his new vocal cords could manage to sound soothing, and Garr unhurriedly walked over to his commander, "Why don't you loosen up a little."

With that, the big reptile placed both of his enormous clawed hands on the captain's shoulders and started gently rubbing them, making the changing human fall into a stupor. This scent - it was much stronger now that Garr was so close - was making Sorkan's mind become hazy and unfocused, but the touch of those strong hands relaxed the captain like nothing else. Conflicting feelings battled in his head. It was Garr's scent that questioned Sorkan's authority on Blazing Bullet and that needed to be dealt with accordingly, but it was Hugh, his weapons chief and friend.

The captain's worries soon melted away and he gave into the massage, standing back up to his full hight and half-closing his eyes against his will. No, he had to fight this! How did he even let the draconian get so close to him? Was he so enthralled with the alien's scent that he let his guard down that much?

"Haven't you turned out to be a big fella," smiled Garr as he turned his head up a little to look the captain in the eyes, not consciously understanding what he was saying.

That small remark triggered something in Sorkan and he looked back down at the draconian in front of him. If Garr was somewhere around seven and a half feet tall, he must have grown to at least eight... Another ripping sound jerked the man back to reality.

"Don't worry, Captain. It's just your old clothes. They definitely won't fit you any more." rumbled Garr with a predatory grin.

He was right. In his daze Sorkan looked down at himself and finally saw that all of the clothes that he wore were already covered in numerous tears or stretched beyond repair. He could clearly see the valleys of muscles on his chest, how imposing and powerful his huge arms looked. A glance behind him showed that his tail had reached its full length stopping at about five and a half feet of bone and muscle. He had not even noticed that he was instinctively haunching forward, just like Garr, to counter-balance the weight of the new appendage that had become a natural extension of his upper body.

While Sam was stunned by how much he had already changed, the other draconian was busy with tearing off the ruined clothing from his captain. Garr was methodically stripping the man in front of him, throwing tattered clothing to the sides of the room, not caring where the torn fabric landed. The almost completely draconian man was taking in every curve of Sorkan's majestic body, feeling every muscle with his claws, making the other man instinctively growl in appreciation. When he was finally done with his task, the changed weapons chief was more than happy to see a stiff draconian manhood standing proud between his captain's powerful thighs. But his goal was a little lower.

Grinning almost a maniacal fang-filled grin Garr angled up his own shaft with the captain's tight, leathery pucker, huffing and growling as he did. There was something about making Sorkan his, making him submit that the man couldn't yet fully understand with his almost completely changed mind. He wante- he needed to show his dominance, to assert his leadership. To have control.

Garr's plans, however, were not meant to be. The very second his crimson rod touched Sorkan's taint, the bigger draconian snapped out of his daze and a blood-chilling snarl shattered the air around them. Without a second thought the captain of Blazing Bullet instantly gripped the weapons chief's strong neck in his huge clawed hand and squeezed, clearly stating without words that whatever Garr had in his mind was not going to happen. Instead, driven into a frenzy by both his own and the other draconian's scent, Sorkan forced the smaller male onto the cold metal floor and got on top of him.

Dominate him, show him his place - screamed the new instincts in captain's head - and he will never leave you, he will forever be yours. Snarling and roaring like a beast, Sorkan obeyed and quickly got his own seventeen inch erect member lined up with Garr's tight back entrance. Skipping all prelude and foreplay, the captain thrusted forward and speared into his weapons chief.

Garr was expecting anything the universe would throw at him but this. Roaring and having his brightly glowing amber eyes bulging wide in shock, the draconian loudly bellowed as he was penetrated. For a moment he expecting tremendous pain, but surprisingly for him there was only pleasure. Mind bending pleasure. Sorkan was driving his colossal rod in and out of Garr with relentless power, not holding back even in the slightest, and after a few thrusts Garr started thrusting back. Spines and ridges of Sorkan's shaft were stimulating the smaller draconian's abused tail hole, the tapered length striking Garr's prostate with each push. His instincts told him that he was bested, that the man on top of him was now his leader and that he should and would do anything for him; unquestionable loyalty to Sorkan was taking deep root in the smaller draconian's mind.

With that, the final change in Garr took place: his pupils started growing narrower and narrower until they became reptilian slits. The weapons chief was no longer human. He was now a complete draconian, both in body and mind.

At the same time Sorkan was not even thinking at all any more - he was acting strictly on his own instincts that demanded him to show the other male his place, to solidify the other draconian's submission, to make him acknowledge the dark hided male as his leader. The captain's feral face was grimaced with both effort and pleasure as he was pounding his crew mate, but soon his thrusts became slow and even more forceful - he was approaching his limit, the point of no return.

Thick and lustrous black fur-like hair started rapidly pushing out of Sorkan's tough leathery cheekbones and the same growth quickly grew above his twitching upper lip giving the enormous male bushy muttonchops and a much more dangerous look. The greying human hair on his head discoloured until it became the same midnight-black as his facial fur. His new mane became rich and dense, hanging past his broad shoulders and putting old short haircut to shame, pointed dark-grey draconian ears sticking out.

Unable to hold back any more, Sorkan's internal testicles went into overdrive and started pumping ridiculous amount of thick draconian seed straight up the monstrous cock that was embedded deep in Garr's abused tail hole. The weapons chief couldn't hold back any longer either: after admitting the captain as his superior on a much deeper level than just being his employer, Garr felt happy and accomplished that he managed to bring pleasure to the beast on top of him. His painfully hard, tapered crimson shaft started trembling and with that Garr started shooting his load between him and his leader.

Haunched on top of the weapons chief, Sorkan gave one final push and snarled, roaring at the top of his lungs, declaring his status and making sure everyone on his ship knew who was in charge on his vessel.

The climaxes the new draconians reached were akin to explosions, wracking both males with pleasure neither of them had ever experienced before in their lives. Their muscles were tense and hard as steel, the captain's tail stiff and raised, the furred tip of it rapidly swaying in the air, the expressions on their faces showing nothing but pure bliss.

After some time the flow of semen from Sorkan's great rod finally came to an end and Garr's lighter coloured cream belly became slightly distended from the sheer amount of seed that had been pumped into him. Both of their strong chests were covered by Garr's cum, the smell of which made the captain lick his scaled lips with a thick tongue. Only then Sorkan opened his bright amber eyes for Garr to see that the captain's pupils were now just like his own: predatory and slitted.

---

No matter how hard Bret wanted to have the rest he deserved after all the earlier ruckus, those first few hours of sleep was all he got. After checking the clock on the holographic screen on his nightstand the pilot grumbled in annoyance - he was awake a couple of hours early before he had to take over the bridge from Sam. With that the young man flopped back on his bed, sighing.

No more sleep came though. Bret felt cold and hot, his arms, legs and back were aching and his butt felt like he had been sitting in one place for week. Thinking it was just the consequences of pushing himself too hard and the earlier stress at the research facility on Epochos, the human turned in his bed sluggishly and rubbed his face with his forearm. That motion was supposed to relax him a little, but instead Bret felt something hard and pointed pinching against his face.

Jerking his arm back made the muscles in his shoulder groan in protest, however the pilot ignored them and was just staring at the bony spikes that grew out of his forearms as soon as they got into his vision.

"What the..."

Tentatively he brought his free hand up to the strange spikes and cautiously felt them with his fingertips - those things were hard, dangerous and rooted deep in his arm, not yielding as he carefully prodded them. As he was inspecting his new arm spikes, his fingernails suddenly got his attention - they were pointed and discoloured, almost black.

What first started as confusion and bewilderment was now full blown panic and fear. Something was happening to him!

"Lucas... Lucas! LUCAS!" the young man started yelling as he all but fell from his bed and bolted towards the medbay of the spaceship.

Bret was running as if his life depended on it, cutting corners and hitting a few metal walls. When he finally reached the medbay, he all almost slammed the door panel open and tumbled inside.

"Lucas, there's something wrong with me!" Bret blurted out while holding his spiked forearm in his other hand, not noticing that his other arm had the same new developments.

When there was no reply, the poor pilot tore his eyes away from his mutated appendage and quickly scanned the room: it was quiet there, only the sound of his laboured and panicked breathing disturbing the silence. The console terminal was lit and one of the chairs next to it had its back turned towards the pilot. A tanned arm was hanging off of its side.

"Lucas!"

Bret rushed towards the chair and roughly turned it around only to find the medic sitting there with a vacant look on his face and his eyes slightly glazed over. A thin line of drool leaked from his mouth.

"LUCAS!" the pilot yelled on top of his lungs and clutched the other man's shoulders with the strength he never knew he had.

Something was happening! These spikes growing from his arms, his nails changing colour, Lucas looking like a vegetable. Were they being abducted by some other crew or aliens? Bret's heart was beating like crazy and blood drained from his face. It was one of his biggest fears: being forcefully taken by some alien race and being experimented on.

Getting even more frightened with each passing second, the pilot started shaking his crew mate trying to get the other man to his senses.

In a moment of clarity, Bret finally noticed something that made him recoil from the medic and fall back on the hard metal floor: Lucas was changing just like him and he was way further at that than the pilot. The medic was not wearing his shirt and that allowed the scared man on the floor to see that the other man's human skin was completely replaced with some sort of scaled tan leathery hide, the chest, belly and face taking a slightly lighter coloration.

The thick brown beard that the medic had before had grown even more dense and the thin hair on his head stopped looking like he was balding. A proud mane of brown fur was bursting forward right before the scared pilot's eyes, taking away years of age from the medic's looks, but showing his experience and wisdom.

Big, tough, dark plate-like scales covered the man's shoulder and the same big scales could be seen bulging on his hips, straining against the fabric of the medic's pants. There were black claws in place of Lucas' fingernails, familiar spikes were on his forearms and three menacing black claws were pushing out of the torn holes in the medic's boots. Swollen lumps were seated on Lucas' forehead and his half-closed eyes were unnatural bright blue and glowing. The medic was muscular and a lot bigger than before, at least twice his size.

Bret stared at the man in front of him in disbelief and was about to fall unconscious from all the shock and stress his poor mind was going through when Lucas suddenly grunted and shook his head, snapping out of the stupor-like state he was in. Immediately his bright glowing blue eyes fixed on the pilot and a look of confusion crossed his face.

"Bret? What are you doing there?" Lucas asked in a deep rumbling voice.

The young man on the floor was stunned by his fear, too afraid to move a muscle.

"Hey, are you alright?" the medic asked worriedly and stood up from his seat, taking a step towards his crew mate.

Bret was absolutely terrified. From his position on the metal floor the man in front of him was like a giant, looming over him and coming closer and closer, like impending doom. Terror-stricken, the pilot scrambled away from the medic. Short sharp breaths were the only sounds he made.

Lucas though was terribly confused. Why was Bret behaving this way? It was like he was looking at a ghost or something.

"Bret, it's alright. Calm down," the medic stopped and held up his hand in the air in a disarming gesture, "Take deep breaths. I'm going to come over to you now, okay?"

With that the seven feet tall tan-scaled man started slowly advancing again. The poor pilot all but bolted away, but his back hit the wall of medbay not a second later.

"Shh... It's alright, it's alright..." Lucas, not disturbed by his own dangerously growling voice, tried to soothe the pilot. Soon he was crouching down in front of him, trying not to spook the unmoving terrified young man.

"L-Lucas?" Bret half-audibly whispered, his panic attack finally starting to dissipate as a pleasant smell made its way to his nose.

The medic, confused by what was happening to his crew mate, slowly extended his clawed hand and carefully placed it on the pilot's shoulder in a comforting and reassuring way. Bret flinched a little at the unexpected physical contact but held himself in place, still to scared to move.

"Yeah, buddy, it's me," Lucas smiled, baring big vicious sharp fangs that replaced most of his human teeth.

"Lucas, w-what's happening to us?" the pilot whispered, his eyes wide in alarm.

"What do you mean?" the other man slightly tilted his head to a side in confusion, but not letting the pilot's shoulder go.

A sudden feral roar pierced the silence between the two men. It was coming from somewhere under them, probably a deck or two lower.

Bret's reaction was instantaneous. The poor scared pilot yelped loudly in distress and gripped the medic's arm, coming closer to him and pushing himself into Lucas' chest, as if seeking protection.

Lucas, on the other hand, swiftly turned his head towards the door leading out of the medbay and strained his hearing, not consciously understanding what he had just heard. On the subconscious level though, his slowly altering mind understood what happened in another part of the spaceship very well. It was their captain, claiming an unruly member of their crew and declaring that anyone else who would challenge him would be dealt with accordingly.

"Lucas, something's happening. We are being changed into something," Bret said again, this time louder than before. The scent of Lucas was calming him for some reason, bringing a sense of security.

The medic looked down at the man clutching onto him as if the young pilot's life depended on it. What was he talking about?

Bret looked up and met his crew mate's glowing blue eyes.

"Look at me, look at yourself."

Lucas only furrowed his brows. Nonsense! The whole crew was vaccinated against all deceases in the known galaxy space and all of them were healthy, Lucas himself made sure of that every several days. Then he-

"Bret," the tan-scaled man cautiously began, "What happened to your nose?"

The changing older man saw something that made his heart skip a beat. Bret's nose was slightly wider. The bridge of it more pronounced and tough, nostrils flaring slightly and greedily taking in the air. But the worst part was that he could see how it was morphing into something inhuman right before his eyes.

"Hold still." the medic said in a growling deep voice dripping with concern.

Peeling the smaller man off his chest to have a better look at him, Lucas finally noticed that the man was wearing only his underwear. Instantly the older man's glowing eyes grew wide and shocked at such thing, but then he saw that Bret's skin was tougher and getting discoloured, becoming dark-purple and segmented. Alarmed, the medic trailed his strong fingers over the affected areas, where the human skin was morphed into a thick leathery hide.

"Lucas..." the pilot shuddered under the touch of the black, fully-developed claws.

Then the older man saw his own changes. His eyes started darting from one part of his body to another, taking it all in: his clawed hands, the black claws that stuck out from his boots, the spikes on his arms, his own scaled tan hide. He was almost able to feel how his own bones were getting thicker and stronger to be able to support all that impossible muscle mass that he now had.

The research from Epochos! That research facility from the dusty planet, whatever they were doing there, the DNA traces in the air... It finally made sense!

A steady buzzing noise tickled the pointed ear of the medic for half a second and disappeared, but that was enough to get his attention. His eyes fell upon one of the speakers of the ship's intercom and he finally remembered what he and Jake found earlier in the salvaged data from the Epochos facility.

Shifting, sequencing, augmentation... Mind control.

A quick look over his shoulder at the console terminal confirmed his growing fears. The ship's systems were compromised to an alien code and now that code was doing something to them. But how?

Lucas' train of thought was interrupted when the other man in the room pressed against his chest again. Gone were panic and fear - the older man could no longer smell them on the other male. Wait. Smell?

Bret started nuzzling Lucas' strong pectoral muscles, humming slightly to himself, and then, as his mouth opened, he extended his thicker than human tongue and licked the medic's dark-tan nipple.

The smell, a powerful pleasant smell, made its way into the older man's nostrils making them twitch slightly. The smell of a young male, just barely a man, but growing strong, looking for protection, looking for support.

Lucas was about to call out to his crew mate and try to shake him awake, but the smaller man looked up, staring with his now glowing light-grey eyes, the whites around the irises having turned completely black, into Lucas' own glowing blue ones and leaned forwards, pressing with all his increasing weight and bringing both of them toppling to the metal floor.

The scent of a strong protective and caring male clouded the mind of the pilot of Blazing Bullet. He was afraid, terrified for his life and his humanity not a few minutes ago, but now those concerns were long forgotten. This scent, this calming and relaxing scent that Lucas had been unconsciously giving off, has done its job well - Bret was no longer scared and was now feeling secure.

Both men were having a hard time thinking straight as the younger male was pressing into the tan hide of the older one, their scents bringing out more changes in them. Ripping sounds were ignored as the beginnings of strong long tails burst through the stretched articles of clothing, growing longer and thicker.

First signs of facial hair broke through the leathery skin on the pilot's young face, but it was far from being human: just like the thickening hair on top of his head, the growing fur on his face was vibrant purple. Soon he had a dense goatee - the first one in his whole life.

Meanwhile, Akilos was glad that his crew mate was finally calm. He wanted to reassure the younger male that everything was fine and there was no danger so he curled his mighty tail around Borvak protectively. The other changing human growled contently in reply, loving the warm embrace, and started slowly rubbing himself against the powerful scaly chest he laid on. An expression of bliss settled on the tan-scaled male and a new scent made its way into both of their noses - they were starting to get aroused.

But something was in a way. Slightly confused, Borvak looked down at the protective male he was with and saw that his underwear and Akilos' pants were denying them what both of them wanted. Right before the purple-scaled male's eyes the claws on his hands grew to their full size and he wasted no time in utilising them, freeing himself from the other reptile's tail embrace and shredding the annoying garments.

Free from the constricting garbs and footwear, Akilos stretched his sore legs, kicked off the remains of the ruined boots and licked the other male across his changing bestial face in thanking guesture while growling contently. As he was watching how the smaller male was growing bigger and stronger, the last of his human skin disappearing and his tail reaching its full length, the medic huffed proudly, taking in the looks of the young draconian on top of him.

Neither of the changing men could think straight anymore. Their combined scents, the feeling of hard scales under their claws, feral growling and grunting, the buzzing sound completely ignored but noticeable to their pointed ears - the combination of all those things has forced the soon-no-longer humans into a mating frenzy.

Without any reservation Akilos grabbed onto Borvak's back and brought him closer, pressing his lips against the other male's, their facial fur rubbing pleasantly. The older draconian's thick tapered crimson shaft slid out of the confines of the genital slit between his legs and after a few experimental thrusts it found its mark under the tail of the dark-purple reptile.

Both of them broke the kiss and hissed in pleasure and lust as the mounting pressure on their foreheads finally eased and black tough horns burst forth. While Akilos' horns are long, thick and slightly angled back, Borvak's horns were comparatively small and jutting out of his head only for six or seven inches - a sign of being young and just out of his teens.

The passionate mating session was both sensual and tender as neither male found the need to fight over the control in their coupling: they both knew that Borvak was young and looking up to the older and more experienced men of ship's crew while the crew would do anything to protect their pilot and guide him to the life of a strong and powerful adult.

Akilos and Borvak dove for each other again as they were getting closer and closer to climax. In the fever of their mating they managed to find each other's gaze only to see that their brightly glowing eyes have become slitted and inhuman, marking the end of their long metamorphosis into the noble draconians.

---

The technician of Blazing Bullet was sprawled on the floor, paralysed with pain. His whole body felt like it was on fire, muscles spasming and convulsing on their own accord.

Without that strange relaxing smell that Jake got a sniff of in the medbay while working on the alien data with Lucas, his mind was much more clear and sharp. Unfortunately, that also meant he was more receptive to the agonising torture that his changing body was going through. That weird buzzing sound coming from the intercom speakers of the ship was not helping either - it made his head hurt in addition to everything else that was happening to him.

"Argh!"

Jake roared in pain and managed to roll over onto his back hoping to get some relief, but it was too much for him to handle. The buzzing was drilling a whole in his brain, making him curl in fetal position and clutch the sides of his head, his steadily growing tail pressing close to his bent knees. In his distress, the technician accidentally brushed his fingers over the horns that were still worming their way out of his forehead and a sinking feeling settled in his stomach.

What were those things on his head? With trembling fingers, Jake touched his horns again only to find that not only they were real but they were also firmly rooted in his thickening skull.

Then he saw his hands. His green tough scaled hands with dangerous black claws. The poor man, still laying on the cold metal floor, scrambled to the closest wall in shock, which brought another wave of pain shooting through his body, and held his changed hands in front of his eyes in disbelief. Jake knew exactly what he was looking at - once or twice he had a couple of run-ins with the dragon-like aliens on different trading stations. He was staring at the powerful big and tough hands of a draconian.

"H-how..." the technician managed to exhale the breath that he was holding in out of fear.

Another painful cramp wracked his midsection and pelvis: his developing tail, that was slightly trashing in front of him between his legs, gained another several inches both in length and thickness. That last surge of agony sent the changing human to the floor one more time.

It was too much, he couldn't handle the overload his warping body was going through. The clothes that he was wearing were torn and scattered around him, reminding the man what was happening to him. The thick black claws on his already changed feet were fruitlessly scratching against the metal floor unable to find purchase.

Bloody ruby colour was steadily bleeding into the roots of his hair and neck beard until all of it was striking crimson. The unkept shaggy growth on his head becoming lustrous and thick, becoming red fur. His beard gained volume and cascaded down until it reached his thickening collar bone.

Just as the technician was about to pass out from his torment, a steady clicking sound made its way into his lengthening ears. It was like something with claws, similar to the ones Jake himself now possessed, was near and getting closer and closer. Then the same smell as before, familiar to the one from the medbay, washed over him and finally calmed down his pain a little. But it was different - it was much stronger and Jake could unconsciously make out that this new scent carried much more weight in it, more power and ...dominance.

Still laying in a heap of sore green-scaled limbs, the technician managed to bring his glowing red eyes up to look at what was coming. Involuntary gasp escaped his mouth - an enormous huge dark-grey draconian with thick black muttonchops was moving closer and closer to him, its slitted burning amber eyes fixed on the poor man. Proud majestic black horns in a vague V-shape crowned its head, its feral-looking face unreadable. Thick ebony claws of its plantigrade feet were clicking against the metal floor, the same ones were on full display on its massive strong hands. The belly of the beast was lighter than the rest of its body, almost dull-grey, but still looking very powerful, especially that mighty chest with dark pointed-down nipples. Brawny reptile tail with a tuft of dark fur on its tip was swishing back and forth behind it.

"No, no, no..." Jake started mumbling, panicking again.

He didn't want to become something like that. He didn't want to become a damned draconian! He was a human!

The scent of the male dark-scaled alien was getting stronger and stronger, calming the pain in Jake's limbs, and the changing human finally found the strength in him to move, but only a little. However, as he started fighting the change again, the pain came back with vengeance, paralysing the horned man with a green reptilian scaly hide, the buzzing sound from the speaking pulverising his brain.

It took the technician a few seconds to register the fact that the nightmarish beast that was coming for him had finally stopped its approach. Uncertain and fearful, the man froze and glanced up seeing that the draconian was right in front of him, sitting on its haunches, its tail laying on the floor by its side. Slowly, not making any sudden movements, the monster reached out for Jake with both of his huge muscled arms and... the poor changing human thought it was the end for him... and gently, but forcefully lifted him from the floor by his shoulders, placing his back against the wall and making him seated on the floor on his almost fully-grown thick green tail.

Jake was holding his breath the entire time, too afraid to move a muscle. Only when no death strike came, he slowly opened glowing red eyes and fearfully looked at the beast in front of him. The dark-scaled draconian was looking back at him with an intense piercing stare of its slitted amber eyes, worried expression plastered on its angular feral face. Its powerful scent now covered the man completely, entirely stopping any pain and buzzing the changing human felt and heard before. Then he noticed.

"Captian?" Jake whispered, not believing what he saw.

It was hard, but he could recognise the same facial features of his captain on the feral face of the draconian and that troubled look the massive dragon-like alien was giving him was the same his captain gave him when the technician was excited about installing new modules into the ship's computer and subsystems.

The draconian smiled and growled in acknowledgement, its concerned features melting down a little, and he gave the scared man a few rubs on the shoulder. Jake realised that the alien was still holding him tight in his clawed hands. The powerful scent the captain's scaled body was giving off intensified and Jake felt unsteady and utterly exhausted, almost melting in the draconian's strong arms.

Sorkan grunted in relief - his technician was alright. That terrible stench of fear that his crew member was telegraphing across the entire ship earlier was finally gone, replaced something akin to contentment. The captain could see that the changing man's red eyes became slightly closed, as if the technician was dazed by something, but no distress was shown any more.

The green-scaled man in his arms was almost completely changed: he was much bigger than he was as a human; he had the same distinctive features like his draconian crew mates, such as black claws, tough boney spikes on his forearms, a thick powerful tail and now fully grown ebony horns with the trademark draconian spikes and ridges.

As the captain of the spaceship was inspecting his technician, Garr walked past them, stopping for a second to have a look at Joresh and nodding his head in appreciation of what he saw. Sorkan looked back up at the weapons chief and gave off a mighty growl, scooping the almost unconscious green-scaled male from the floor in his massive arms. Garr only grumbled in reply and turned away, resuming his walk towards the medbay, the captain close behind.

Joresh was fighting hard to stay awake, but being pressed against captain's scaly grey muscled chest and feeling his tender embrace was making it impossible. He was practically swimming in the scent of the stronger bigger draconian and the gentle swaying of Sorkan's stride made him sleepy.

He wasn't struggling to keep his humanity anymore. Captain's commanding scent has reduced his thought processes to the base instinctual level and his instincts told him that he was safe in the dominant male's arms, that the stronger male would take care of him.

The exhaustion from the stress and indescribable torture Joresh went through finally caught up with him and the draconian with a green scaly leathery hide give Sorkan one last look with his slitted glowing red eyes before succumbing to sleep. The captain saw that with a corner of his amber eyes and gave off a rumbling chuckle, smiling and hugging the sleeping male even closer to his warm thick chest.

As Garr opened the doorway into the medbay, somehow remembering the door controls of the spaceship in his feral state of mind, he saw two other draconians, dark-purple and tan, laying on the medical examination table and sleeping in each others arms. Both of them were big and powerful specimens of their kind, but neither of the crew members of Blazing Bullet were as large as their leader, Sorkan.

The sound of the opening doors stirred the medic and the pilot awake from their slumber, making them alert for the first few moments, but the second they saw the newly arrived draconians and recognised the messages their scents carried, such as Sorkan's dominance, Garr's power and Joresh' vulnerability, dark-purple and tan males slightly calmed down but still stayed on guard.

There was something about the dark-scaled draconian's scent that made them recognise him as the superior male, however both of them felt their upper lips pulling back a bit in the beginnings of a snarl. The captain of the ship roared loudly at the two dragon-like aliens in front of him and squinted his amber slitted eyes a little, prepared for them to challenge his authority. Garr, who took his place by Sorkan's side, mimicked his leader's actions with a rumbling roar of his own, declaring that he would stand by his captain side whatever happened.

Both tan and dark-purple males got off the examination table, Akilos instinctively placing himself in front of Borvak, and crouched down a bit, not backing away from the display of power dark-grey and orange males made, their thick tails tense behind them. Sorkan growled again, but understood that the medic and the pilot would not submit to his will without being properly shown their true places. Carefully he placed unconscious Joresh down and stepped forward, dropping down on all fours and snarling dangerously. As he did that, Garr was immediately in front of the technician, placing himself between the green draconian and potential threat, his deadly ebony claws ready to tear apart anyone who would get close without his leader's approval.

Akilos was the fist one to make a move. With a terrifying roar he leaped forward, propelling himself in the air with his strong legs, intending to bring down the newcomer. His instincts were demanding he disposed of the dark-grey male - he was a threat to Borvak, the one he had to protect. As he was soaring through the whole medbay, Sorkan roared himself and side turned at the last moment, bringing his mighty tail under the attacking draconian, curling it around his chest and slamming the medic powerfully into the metal floor.

The resulting rumble shook the entire room. Akilos had his breath knocked out of him and started violently coughing, his blue eyes bulging in shock and his vision blurry from the unpredicted impact.

As soon as that happened, Borvak felt his blood boiling in his veins and he charged at the enormous dark-grey draconian, snarling like a beast. His feral assault, however, was soon interrupted as Sorkan swiped his strong hand up, catching the pilot when he got close enough by his strong neck and smashing him into the floor just like the medic.

When both of the unruly crew members of Blazing Bullet were subdued, the captain of the ship dragged the pilot by his throat, not letting the young reptile go and placing him by Akilos' side. Still crouched and growling, Sorkan withdrew his tail from the medic's torso and grabbed the tan reptile's neck with his free hand. He made sure both of the draconians in his vice grips were looking at him straight in his burning amber eyes and got very close to their pained faces. Squeezing their throats to show them his dominance, he bared his sharp fangs and growled a very low and clear warning to them: submit now or be done with. The caught draconians kept struggling the entire time the bigger male held them in his clutches, but as soon as he voiced his unmistakable threat, they stopped thrashing and became very still.

Staring them down with his slitted eyes, Sorkan was pleased that the insolent males ceased their fighting. He did not want to kill them - somehow faint human memories helped him recognise those two as his friends - and he knew that impaling them on his horns would not be a way out no matter how hard he wanted to go ahead and do that in the heat of the conflict. Slowly, he eased up his grip on the pilot's and medic's necks, allowing some air to rush into their lungs. And with fresh air the indisputable dominant scent washed over the beaten males. That made them completely stop their struggling and in they averted their eyes from the captain's firm amber gaze of the leader, accepting him as their superior. They were bested in combat and when they looked back at the dark-grey male on top of them, their light-grey and green eyes spoke of compliance with Sorkan leading them, protecting them and they wordlessly vowed to follow him and obey him. Only after that, the mighty draconian released his crew members with a confirming short growl and rose onto his feet, towering over the defeated males.

Garr was watching the whole exchange between the other members of his kind. He saw how Sorkan dealt with disobedience of the other draconians, how he roughly showed them their places, how he did not kill them for questioning his leadership. A fang-filled grin crossed his savage face - he chose well in who to follow. Sorkan was powerful and strong, but he also demonstrated mercy and unyielding resolve in uneven odds. Yes, he would never question his leader's dominance and would follow his lead without a doubt.

Meanwhile, the console terminal display nearby was swarmed with alien words and algorithms, that were appearing as quickly as they were replaced by new lines of draconian text. Then the flow of information stopped abruptly and a piercing shrieking sound teared the deafening silence that settled in the medical room of the ship after a brutal display of power, instantly knocking out all draconians that were awake into unconsciousness.

---

"Ugh..." Sorkan growled as he was slowly waking up.

He felt very uncomfortable and when he opened his eyes he saw that he was laying on the floor of the medbay of his ship. His tail was cramped under his leg and one of his arms fell asleep. Pulling himself up, he adjusted himself in a more tolerable sitting position, curling his tail around so it rested on the floor by his side, and rubbed his face.

Another groaning sound came from behind him and made the captain half-turn. It was Garr and Joresh - they have just woken up just like him and were pulling themselves from the floor. Then more groaning come a second later as Borvak and Akilos came around as well.

"You alright, guys?" Sorkan asked in a deep rumbling voice, but he was not disturbed by it for some reason. It felt like his voice has always been like that: strong and commanding.

"Yeah..."

"I think so."

"All good."

"Define good," growled Akilos.

Clumsily all draconians got onto their clawed feet, the fog from their awakening slowly lifting. And then they saw each other.

"Sorkan... Captain, something's not right here," mumbled Garr cautiously.

"No, it's not," agreed Borvak, "Why do you guys look like you've put on some alien costumes?"

Then the dark-purple draconian had a look at himself.

"Why do I look like I've put on an alien costume?" he asked and experimentally flexed his black claws.

The question was left hanging in the air as once again silence settled in the medbay. The buzzing sound from the speakers was long gone.

They remembered, all of them. They remembered what happened, how they started changing into the dragon-like aliens, how they established deep emotional connections with each other. Three of them remembered how they tried to challenge Sorkan and how it turned out for them. Sorkan remembered how he defended his title of the dominate leader.

"Guys," Joresh started, almost growling in his new rumbling voice and gulping nervously, "We are all naked."

Surprisingly, that did not bring any discomfort or self-consciousness to the changed men. In fact, it felt great to be clad only in their own scales. Sorkan looked over his crew members and rubbed his angular face again, scratching his muttonchops with a claw. Their scents were clear and strong, channeling their confusion.

"I might just state the obvious here," grunted Akilos, "We are no longer human."

The tan draconian met the slitted light-grey eyes of Borvak and blushed a little, remembering just how they spent their last evening before Sorkan, Garr and Joresh showed up in the medbay.

"Looks like it," Garr agreed and looked over himself, finding it bizarre but natural that his long powerful tail was slightly swaying behind him.

Suddenly Akilos fixed his glowing eyes on Joresh and started growling, slowly advancing at the other draconian.

"You! It's your fault! If it wan't for your curiosity, then none of this would have happened!" he roared, jabbing a claw into the technician's wide chest.

"Me?" the green-scaled draconian growled back, swatting the tan sturdy hand away from him, "What about you? Why didn't you warn us about that airborne crap in the facility before we entered it?!"

Both draconians were growling loudly at each other, their upper lips twitching and their tails swishing behind them in rising anger. Borvak was the first to see what was potentially going to happen and immediately rushed to the arguing men, putting himself between them. Garr noticed that as well and managed to grab the furious tan reptile around the chest just in time as Akilos tried to lunge at the technician.

All the hell broke loose. There was loud growling, snarling, accusations were traded and Garr got a few good elbows into his sides. Thankfully that was not enough for the bulky weapons chief to release his hold - his tough scaly leathery hide provided good protection against jabs like that.

Sorkan was still trying to wrap his mind around the whole thing that had happened to him and his crew when the ruckus started. The undertones of the scents of his men have changed as well: there was aggression, anger, annoyance. He had to put an end to that before things spiralled out of control.

Rumbling low growl that rattled the glass panels of the medbay cabinets rocked the whole room, instantly making everyone stop whatever they were doing to turn towards the captain. Sorkan's bearded face was grimaced with the most savage snarl any of his men had ever seen. Borvak gulped audibly.

"If you don't stop this yelling and shouting at each other, I will personally tear off each of your tails right off your sorry asses," the dark-scaled draconian stated dangerously, his slitted amber eyes darting from one man to another almost eager to see if anyone would try and disobey him.

Garr released Akilos, who, in turn, carefully and slowly stepped away from the ship's technician. Joresh dropped his intimidating looks as well, dipping his head down slightly and backing off. Lastly, Borvak curled his tail to the side a little and made sure not to make any sudden moves.

"Now that you're all calm," the captain continued and pointed at Joresh with his ebony claw, "You, with me. Borvak, check the ship controls on the bridge. Akilos and Garr, find our torn clothes and take them to the repair station in the cargo hold. Fix them there and make sure we can wear them with these... tails of ours."

Given the direct orders from their captain all of the members of the Blazing Bullet found it hard to go against them. They could, but it felt unnatural, almost like pulling at your own horns.

The weapons chief and the medic quickly nodded and headed towards the door into the hall, getting Akilos' and Borvak's ruined pants and underwear from the floor along the way.

"How are we supposed to find all of it?" Akilos grumbled when he and Garr crossed the doorway.

"By scent," replied the weapons chief, still slightly shaken by how the captain handled the earlier small disturbance.

When the automated doors were about to close, Borvak bolted after them, his fur-tipped dark-purple tail quickly disappearing behind the corner. Joresh could only follow all of his crew mates with his red slitted eyes, feeling very uneasy as he could guess what the captain wanted from him.

"Start talking," Sorkan exhaled and walked over to one of the chairs of the console terminal, taking a seat and sliding his tail into the hole of the chair's back that he was pretty certain wasn't there before.

"Well," the technician stumbled over with words, which looked very funny coming from a seven feet tall naked muscled draconian, "That data we got from the facility on Epochos? I made a copy of it and kinda, um, decrypted it."

The captain kept his technician in his view the entire time and couldn't help but sigh in defeat when he heard what Joresh had done.

"Man, how many times..." all his uptightness evaporated and his hung his head, rubbing his horns, "Haven't we already been through this? Back at Nebula, when you accidentally killed the power to the whole ship? Or at Verge, even before that, when the artificial gravity module went dark on us from your swift claws?"

Joresh tried to look tough, but in truth he was trembling inside. Seeing how his captain was disappointed with him left him with a tight heavy feeling in his chest, like a huge knot was there twisting everything in his ribcage. A very unpleasant feeling, to put it mildly, that the technician couldn't fully explain. At least he didn't tear my throat out, the green-scaled man thought to himself.

"Alright..." Sorkan glanced back up at his crew member, a tired look in his amber eyes, "Can you at least tell me what you found there if anything at all?"

That relaxed Joresh to some extent and the green-scaled draconian breathed out a sigh of relief before coming over to the console terminal. After he sat down in the chair, mindful of his tail but not really consciously thinking about it, he turned towards the display and prepared to start telling his version of what happened to all of them.

"Captain, everything's fine on my end. We'll be in Aurora in about twenty hours," Borvak's deep voice came from the intercom.

"Got it," replied Sorkan, pressing the talk button on the armrest of his seat.

While the technician was typing away at the console terminal with his claws, the captain of the Blazing Bullet noticed something on the holographic display of the computer that made him even more confused than before. Those lines of text that Joresh was going through, they were not in human language - they were in draconian. While the technician may have known the language of the reptiles before all of them became members of that alien race, Sorkan was positive he didn't know a word. And now there he was, looking over his crew member's shoulder and understanding everything that was brought up on the display.

Another thought crossed his mind the next second: if he could suddenly understand draconian language, could he speak in it? Licking his lips in concentration, the large dark-grey man focused at one line of text on the screen that wasn't changing and tried reading it out loud. A series of growls, grunts and hisses instantly made Joresh stop typing and, without looking back at the captain, he briefly clarified what than line of text was about while pointing at it with a claw.

"Joresh, I just spoke in draconian. I didn't know draconian before," Sorkan grunted with a concerned look on his savage face.

Now that made the technician turn around and look at his captain with equally worried but at the same time amused look.

The doors into the medbay opened and Garr and Akilos walked in, both clothed and carrying folded fabric in their arms.

"There you go, guys. The repair station downstair already had our measurements in the system, I mean the new ones, somehow. We also rebuild your other clothes that we got from your rooms while we were on it," said the weapons chief as he handled the garments to his captain. The medic, still visibly angry with Joresh, did not reek with his frustration anymore and he even managed to force a small smile as the technician took his new clothes from the tan draconian.

"Thanks, these would do," Sorkan nodded as he unfolded the new pants.

Basically their old outfit, but several sizes bigger to accommodate their new forms, and the pants had a big gap where their backsides would have been earlier, the clothes felt a lot different on a scaled leathery hide compared to sift human skin. The shirt now had a zipper in the front - a smart solution, given just how awkward it would be to pull the cloth over a horned head. The boots that the medic and the weapons chief brought were huge and tough-looking, but seemed to be just the right size for their clawed three-toed feet.

"We placed your other rebuilt clothes back into the drawers in your rooms," Akilos said, not disturbed by the fact that he had just openly admitted that he and Garr were rummaging in their captain and crew mate's personal belongings. Strangely, neither Sorkan, nor Joresh found that unacceptable either and simply nodded.

"What about Borvak?" the captain asked as he fastened the laces on his boots.

"We got his stuff to him earlier. Figured you wanted some time alone with Joresh," said the medic uncertainly, which made the green draconian get slightly red in his scaled face.

It felt weird, but Sorkan could almost physically feel the unseen bonds between him and his crew members. He was aware that his men were looking up to him the way they never did before and, in a way, the mercenaries of Blazing Bullet were now closer to being a family, than a band of grunts with their own interests. The crew would never abandon their captain because of something as trivial as a streak of bad luck with their recent contracts. Sorkan could somehow tell that the same bonds have formed not just between him and his crew, but between his crew members themselves as well, making them more understanding of each other, their own personal needs and their unique characters.

"I'll go make us something to eat," grunted Garr, "Don't know about you guys, but I'd tear something apart with my own hands right now just to get some food."

"Makes sense. How long were we out, a couple of Earth days?" nodded Akilos, looking at the console terminal to check the time.

"Don't care. I just want to sink my fangs into something. I'll get some for you guys as well," said the weapons chief and promptly left the medbay.

"Good," Sorkan growled and turned back towards the technician, content that all of them now fully clothed and would get something to eat soon, "So you were saying..."

"Yeah, when we were in that facility on Epochos... Oh, wait..." Joresh interrupted himself and began typing again while the captain activated the intercom so their pilot and weapons chief could hear them.

---

"Explain again what we're dealing with here," the grey draconian growled quietly to his companion, "The briefing was frustratingly vague."

"In short, we're making sure that the crew of our most recent employees is well and in the right state of their minds," replied the pale-red alien.

Two draconians were seated at a small table in a lousy rundown joint in the docks of Aurora Trading Station, somewhat impatiently waiting for Blazing Bullet spaceship to arrive.

"Elaborate," said the first draconian, the stronger and bigger one of the two, his slitted eyes squinted in irritation.

The other dragon-like man, who was much leaner and slightly smaller, looked at the portable computer device that we wore on his left forearm, checking the time again.

"You must have heard how the research station on Epochos had gone dark the other day, haven't you? Of course, you have. Rumours travel fast in the military, don't they?" the pale-red draconian scientist started, keeping his low voice down so that no one but his guard may hear him, "They, well, evaporated themselves in an accident and while their demise is unfortunate what is truly important is what was left behind after that incident. The combination of their DNA and the unstable substances that they had been working with left a very volatile airborne agent that, by own rotten luck, would transform anyone that got exposed to it."

"Transformed?" the guard asked in confusion, "Transformed into what?"

"Into our kind, the draconians. I ran the data while those mercenaries where on their way to Epochos, but their obviously outdated equipment would not allow me to get in touch with them while they were in hyperspace."

The scientist looked around the docks alertly, scanning the area for anyone that might be onto them. Only after a few seconds of heavy silence, he relaxed, but only a little bit. Aurora Docks was a treacherous place: you could find members of any known galactic sentient race going about their business, which sometimes was more shady than legal. Cautiousness was vital.

"My attempts to remove the agent from the facility or to ventilate it before the arrival of humans were futile since some of life support systems there were damaged. What would make the matters even worse was once they contacted the agent, they would not change into someone like you and me - they would be reduced to the level of animals, just slightly smarter than an average beast."

The guard suddenly got tense. Was this why he got this assignment? To deal with a bunch of humans turned into his feral brethren?

"As you can probably imagine, they would not find anyone inside the facility and leave, fly back to some space station like this one, the autopilot systems engaged while being in hyperspace. What happens when the pilot does not take manual control over the ship after exiting the hyperspace?" the scientist asked his companion.

"The autopilot flies the craft to the assigned destination itself, sends a distress signal to the station and docks the ship," the other draconian replied getting more and more nervous.

"That's right. Imagine what would happen when a spaceship hosting feral draconians opened its airlock and those beasts went free," the scientist cringed, "I'm not talking about potential casualties of these space vermin around us, but about something else. The authorities could trace the ship's records back to Epochos, trace the transmissions to us. Now that would be disastrous."

"So this is why I am here? To take down almost half a dozen feral beast that are, by chance, our own kind?" the guard growled quietly, tremendously displeased with how the events were turning out.

"In the worst case scenario, yes, that would be necessary. All is not lost though and our new brothers could still be there, in good health and aware of themselves as individuals," the pale-red draconian replied, "Thankfully, they contacted me when they were still inside the facility, unfortunately already contaminated, but could yet be saved. However, the methods that I had to use were rather unorthodox and there's no guaranteeing they worked."

"What did you do?" the guard all but hissed though his clenched fangs.

"There was another research about five hundreds of years ago, focused on mind control and mind altering techniques. It was canceled, but it beared fruits before it got disbanded. One such product of that research warped a person's mind, making them believe they were something completely different, and cemented the changed mindset firmly in them. It was not complete and I was tinkering with it in my spare time, updating it and polishing it."

The guards slitted eyes went wide in rage and disbelief.

"You pathetic wyrm..." he rumbled dangerously almost ready to wrestle the scientist onto the dirty floor of the docks and take him away to present the pale-red reptile to the laws of their people. Messing with someone's mind was one of the most unforgivable crimes in draconian culture. What he had already heard was enough to send this pathetic waste of old scales behind the bars for good several decades if not for the rest of his life.

"Let me finish. Yes, I did that and I'm not proud of it," the old draconian sighed, "but it was necessary. I uploaded my recent build of that mind altering software onto the facility servers and tricked those humans into downloading it, supplying them with the required security key. Then I could only hope one of them would run it on the ship's computer and trigger the process. Now do you understand why I said that your presence may probably won't be needed at all?"

"Yes," the guard grunted, not letting the other draconian out of his sights, "Those humans, even turned into us could still be themselves and not attack anything that has a pulse."

"Correct. Once the software is in the system, it would penetrate the ship's subroutines and access the life support subsystem configurations, making them more suited for our kind. Then, the heavy weaponry would go off: while the men on the ship would mentally degrade to the state of smarter than average animals, the ship's intercom would constantly drill new knowledge about their changing forms into their vulnerable minds," the scientist stopped for a moment and checked his portable computer device again, "They would without a doubt not be able to associate themselves with their new forms to full extent after they finish changing, so the software would alter their very perception of selves. To keep it simple, it would change their names and force these new names deeply into their minds. A name has the most powerful connection with self-perception and changing it would considerably increase the chances of success."

The poor guard was now both terrified of the old scientist in front of him and enraged. How can anyone speak of things like these so calmly and without worry? How could he justify these atrocities to himself?

"Of course, other things would need to be changed, but not about the no-longer-human's minds. Their ship would need a few adjustments, such as the seats, to fit our different anatomy, the new measurements of the crew in the repair station records and a few other things. I can only hope that their ship is capable of what my software is programmed to do." the old draconian went silent for a few moments and focused his eyes at the distant space that could be seen from the docks from the enormous glass windows, as if trying to find something there, "All of that would be done while the people on the ship are unconscious and the software is restoring their scrambled brains, namely: bringing forth their unique personalities, integrating the knowledge of our language and phraseologies, changing their mating preferences to accept both genders like most of us, draconians, do and, finally, locking everything in place, securing their minds and erasing any possible stitches that could be left behind. In theory, they would be just like any other draconian, as if they were born that way. But they would know what happened to them. They would remember how they changed and what they did in their feral frenzy. That's about the only thing I could not make work no matter how hard I tried."

The grey-scaled guard was sitting wordlessly for some time, studying the older scientist's face. There was no disgust of himself or revulsion from his own words. He was calm and faintly excited about something, probably the arrival of the mercenary spaceship Blazing Bullet.

"You are a madman," the guard finally said.

"I may be," the scientist sighed, "but look at this situation this way: our people have died on Epochos, regardless of what reason. They are gone. Now these humans are on their way there and I am not able to warn them of the imminent danger that is looming over their heads. They are doomed to lose their minds and turn into savage beasts. Their ship docks here, on this very trading station, for example, and they are released to kill, maim and shred into pieces anyone they come across. That is, if they do not kill each other during their metamorphosis. The connection is made back to Epochos and, subsequently, to us. It would be a disaster."

"You mean, disaster for you," the guard said, now growing fearful of the old man. If that old lizard did that to those humans, what it he had other tricks up his sleeve that no one knew about? What if he turned on him after he finished his business here? The grey draconian gulped nervously.

"While not being able to save those unfortunate souls on Epochos, I managed to save the five who I was able to reach," the scientist dropped his slitted eyes a little and added with a sigh, "I hope..."

"Craft Blazing Bullet arriving at Dock 7182," the synthetic automated voice announced over the speakers of the Aurora docking bay, making both draconians glance up and turn their horned heads towards the windows showing the space.

True to the notice, not a minute later the said ship flew into the space station and docked.

"Moment of truth," the old man chuckled sadly and got up from his seat, his tail stiff and tensed.

When the grey and pale-red draconians got the lower level of the docking bay and finally had Blazing Bullet in their sights, they saw something that made the old scientist smile in relief and his guard gasp in astonishment.

Five heavily-built and tall draconians, dark-grey, almost black, orange, tan, green and dark-purple, were standing near the airlock leading into the just arrived space craft, talking to a couple of the station guards that came forward to meet them. The grey draconian that was accompanying the old scientist saw how the guards were scanning the identification chips of the arrivals and he gave the scientist a worried look.

The old reptile was very pleased: not only those humans became strong and powerful members of his race, but it looked like their have managed to keep their minds intact as well. The scientist had no need to bother himself with the identification issues of the new draconians - his software took care of that, adding their names and biometrics into the registry on the draconian home world database using his own access privileges. It felt good to be a valued researcher sometimes.

All of the draconians from the Blazing Bullet were fully clothed and, as the station guards said their last words and left, the scientist could say that they were sane. They looked terribly tired though, their strong long tails hanging low behind them and their naturally haunched postures were slightly lower than what would be normal for them.

The captain of the ship, obviously the biggest of the five, looked around the docking area and his slitted amber eyes finally fell on the approaching scientist and his guard. The big draconian growled something to his men and started moving towards their impromptu meeting committee. When both groups of the draconians were finally in front of each other, they stopped and the captain glowered down at the old man, conflicting feelings visibly fighting in his hard gaze.

Gods, they are big, the grey-scaled guard thought to himself. All of them were towering over their welcoming party, not to mention those human station guards that met them earlier. Both the pale-red and grey draconians had to turn their heads up to be able to look the newcomers in the eyes. The muscles on their bodies were clearly defined through their clothing, those sharp spikes on their forearms bare for everyone to see as they had the sleeves of their shirts rolled up to their elbows. Their horns were colossal, speaking of the vast raw physical power they possessed. Well, except for the dark-purple one, whose horns seemed to be still growing - a sign of young age - but already quite intimidating.

"We know what you did," the largest draconian of the group growled dangerously in the language of his new race and the guard on the scientist's side became alert and had his hand warped around the weapon he carried on his hip, "Yes, we know what you did to us, what happened on Epochos, how you covered everything up with that brain-raping program of yours. My technician and medic found all those nasty little secrets in what we managed to pull from that facility. But... I still haven't made up my mind on whether I should tear your throat out and end your pathetic existence right where you stand."

The other crew members of Blazing Bullet were standing beside their apparent leader, some had their arms folded against their muscled chests and all had their slitted eyes that were glowing in the dimmed lighting of docks fixed firmly on the scientist. None of them said a word and stayed silent.

The dark-scaled man sized up the grey draconian by the scientist's side with his amber eyes and growled a throaty chuckle.

"And you must be the clean-up that got sent to take care of the mess in case things went south, huh, doc?" the massive man smiled a fang-filled grin, "We know what might have happened to us if you had not ravished out heads. That's exactly the reason why we are willing to talk. For now. We don't like something and the news of this fly from Abyssal to Tau faster than you can possibly imagine."

The dark-grey scaled man was right. After what the old draconian had told the guard so far, the poor military man wanted to be anywhere but in his place at that moment. Why did he even ask that old creep to tell him more about his assignment? It would have been much easier if he didn't know. Don't stick your horns in where they are not wanted. Gingerly, the guard put his hand away from his weapon - somewhere in the back of his mind he understood that it wouldn't help him against those five brutes.

"So, let me re-introduce myself and my men to you, doc," the muscled draconian rubbed one of his horns and extended a clawed hand for a handshake, "Sorkan, Captain of the Blazing Bullet..."