Stonerager Chronicles - Ch. 12

Stonerager Chronicles

By 2Charlie

This is a science fiction series that happens to include occasional erotic scenes. If you have not yet read previous chapters of this series, I highly recommend going back to do so before you read this chapter.

All characters in this story are of the age of majority.

Chapter 12

*****Ship's Time: 1230, Day 60*****

Pheebs recompiled the sensor data yet another time, applying a slightly different set of filters for this attempt. The result was a minor improvement in the resolution of the image, allowing her to make out the main sections of the vessel. They could make out an elongated, dual-hull primary section that flared out like an arrowhead, only to taper back and transition to a mammoth propulsion block. One of its engines was longer and broader than the Odyssey, and this beast sported six engines.

Studying the historical records of this type of vessel contained within the records Tao gave them two months ago, she compared the features from that data to the images from the scans. There was little room for doubt. This was a Tao warship, intact, but it might as well have been across the universe, given its current location. Nothing in the amassed data that she and Prime could access suggested any means by which a vessel, having crossed the event horizon of a black hole, could ever return.

Deciding to try a different approach, Pheebs shifted her analysis to the tau particles themselves. Per their observations, the behavior of the particles was unaffected by the enormous gravitational forces being exerted on everything around them. Light photons were unable to escape the effects of the black hole's gravity, but the tau particles' path of travel seemed uninfluenced whatsoever.

The tau particles did not seem to interact with any of the other types of particles flowing around them, other than when they encountered objects with mass, which caused a 'scintillation' in their aspect - a minor variance in their spatial alignment which Pheebs likened to how laminar flow of fluid was interrupted by a change in surface tension.

Sitting back in her seat, Pheebs puzzled over the data. The Tao vessel appeared to be in a stable orbit around the black hole, neither sinking deeper nor climbing out from the gravity well. She could not fathom any way in which such a stable orbit could have been achieved naturally. The careful balance between capture and escape was too precise to be an accident. Something aboard that vessel was maintaining its position.

The two immediate questions that came to her in rapid succession were 'how?' and 'why?.'

****Cestus, Rigellian Moon, RDF Shipbuilding Facilities****

"We'd be very pleased to host you and your crew at tomorrow's commissioning ceremony for the first of the new ships, the Aurora Dancer," Chief Shipwright Thornton Tyce apprised Dutch as he led their small group across the boarding tube to the Quarterdeck of the fourth of their new Odyssey-class ships, the Boundless Voyager. The previous three builds were in the middle of crewing up for their shake-down cruises, which would likely commence within the next few days.

Dutch was taking in the similarities and differences between the new ship and his own. The boarding hatchway was large and square, approximately 3 meters along each side, with the hatch itself recessed into the bulkhead. The airlock was not a visibly separate chamber, but rather integrated into the space, with a far hatch capable of sealing off the quarterdeck from the passageway beyond. On his Odyssey, there were two hatches as part of a tandem pair bounding the airlock, each was round, closer to two meters in diameter, and swung inward on a hinge. The airlock itself was only 3 meters in depth, and jutted inward into the quarterdeck space.

Along the aft bulkhead of the quarterdeck, Dutch could see several tall lockers with clearplaz doors, and hanging within were sleek, minimalist exosuits - much less bulky than the environmental suits aboard the Odyssey. He recalled that the exosuits were not only pressure suits capable of enabling the wearer to function in most hostile environments, from alien atmospheres to the vacuum of space, but they were also equipped with an integrated exoskeleton, enabling the wearer mobility in high-gravity environments.

Turning his attention to Tyce, Dutch nodded, "We'd be honored to attend, of course."

"Excellent!" the Chief Shipwright exclaimed. "I'll have my assistant forward you the details when we've finished here today."

Pulling his pad from the pocket inside his uniform jacket, Dutch captured images and details of interest from the quarterdeck, and moved to follow the Chief Shipwright and his assistant, Senior Engineer Jordon Pennet.

The two made for an odd pair. Tyce was an older man - age was measured differently on Rigellia, but the man looked to be much closer to retirement age than middle age, was lean, with ruddy skin and rugged features, and wore a multipocketed jumpsuit, looking for all the world as if he'd just stepped off an assembly line. Pennet was shorter by half a head, appeared to be middle-aged, eschewed makeup or other feminizing adornments, and wore her hair in a short cut, tapered around the ears and the neck. Her hands were rough, her shoulders were broad, and her clear, icy blue eyes could cut diamonds quicker than a laser. The word handsome came to mind as Dutch appraised her appearance.

As they approached the bridge, Dutch grinned as he saw a pair of doors silently slide into the bulkhead on either side, reminding him of twentieth and twenty-first-century science fiction entertainment from his youth. Stepping onto the bridge, he stopped and looked around, taking it all in. The bridge itself appeared larger, but he came to conclude that the space was the same size as on his ship, but was used more efficiently, and the various stations were much more appealing in their smooth simplicity. Instead of viewscreens at each station, he saw holographic imagers, opening up the space while adding to its utility.

The positioning of the watch stations was as ubiquitous as on his ship, aside from the NAV/HELM positions, which appeared to be interchangeable on the newer vessel, and the command chair, which maintained its isolated position in the center of the bridge. The remaining stations formed a semi-circular ring running around the edges of the bridge, each having a smooth, glossy console butting up to a curved holographic projection surface.

The front wall of the bridge was clearplaz, deck to overhead, offering a one hundred and twenty-degree view forward. The decking was covered by a deep blue synthetic material that was cushioned as well as sound absorptive, adding comfort to the space, and the lighting was recessed and indirect, allowing for a more relaxed feel to the space.

Dutch was impressed with the overall effect, and admitted as much to his two companions.

For the next hour, Tyce and Pennet led Dutch on a comprehensive tour of the rest of the vessel, demonstrating how their variant was designed with a larger crew in mind. Dutch was often surprised by the notion of stationing crew regularly in the engineering spaces, given that his ship was more self-sufficient, with many of the machinery spaces not designed to be manned.

The holo-chamber was of special interest to Dutch. There were limited instances of holo-technology in use aboard the Odyssey, but the entire chamber here was designed to be a highly versatile space, intended to be used for rest and relaxation. Dutch found himself wondering what area aboard his own ship he might be able to reconfigure to make room for such a space.

The hangar bay redesign was a definite improvement over the original. On the new ships, the hangar bay was about the same size as on his Odyssey, but the shuttle craft nestled against the exterior hull on either side of the bay, blending into the hull when docked, and accessed via a portal within, allowing the shuttles to be used without the need to open the bay doors. The hangar itself could be used to bring aboard another small craft, or other similarly sized object, for access within a pressurized environment. Also, a quarantine chamber was nestled conveniently between the hangar bay and medical, making it much more convenient for a shuttle crew to go straight into quarantine if needed when returning from a dangerous environment.

Another impressive difference between the original and new design was the medical bay. On the Odyssey, the med bay was a small, confined chamber with a single examination bed. On this ship, the med bay was a larger chamber, with four examination beds, room for another four beds which folded out from the bulkhead, and a separate isolation chamber and surgical suite. A small space isolated from the med bay by a clearplaz wall contained an office for the ship's medical staff.

All in all, Dutch was impressed by the innovation that factored into the improvements, and each change was being made from the start with the intention of supporting a full crew, rather than as an afterthought.

As the small group headed back to the quarterdeck, Chief Shipwright Tyce probed Dutch, "Well, sir, what do you think of our ship? Isn't she a beauty?"

"You and your team have done a fine job, Mr. Tyce," Dutch openly admitted. "I'm quite impressed with some of the innovations, and I may steal some ideas from you to apply to the original."

"I was hoping you'd feel that way," the aged shipbuilder admitted. "I was giving some thought to your Odyssey, and while I'd think that several of our updates could be made at your leisure anytime in the future, some might be better made in a shipyard facility. I'm thinking of the upgrades to your bridge and medical bay, specifically."

"I won't deny that either of those upgrades would be very challenging outside of a spaceport," Dutch admitted, scratching his chin in consternation. "But I agree that many of the other modifications could be something we'd assign to the ship's droids if it came down to it."

"I agree," Tyce nodded, then stopped to look Dutch dead in the eye. "So, what if I offered to do a major upgrade - including the bridge, med-bay, hangar bay, and all hatchways - in 60 hours? Possibly less? Would that be of interest to you?"

Dutch considered the offer for a moment. "In return for?" he eventually asked.

"Nothing. You've already done a lot, and more to come, if I'm not mistaken," the elder shipbuilder responded. "Giving us the design for the ship, the weapons, the Stealth systems, the fucking reactor - shit, man! That was no small gift, and what I'm offering doesn't offset it by a tenth! Plus, the way I hear it from Director Philson, he'd like you to stay local for a few days anyway while his team tackles the comms problem, so we'd maximize the utility of your time, to my thinking."

"Assuming I agree, when could you start?" Dutch hazarded.

"We can bring Odyssey in first thing tomorrow," Jordon Pennet offered. Tyce nodded in agreement.

"We'll be commissioning the Majestic Horizon and Noble Serenity in the next few days, so maybe you'd like to be here for their launches as well... given you trained their skippers...," Tyce added with a twinkle in his eye.

Dutch weighed the matter for exactly a ten count, then nodded. "I'd like to inform my crew, and I'll probably get my XO to act as the liaison for the evolution. With whom should I have her connect for the duration?"

Pennet nodded her head, adding "That will be me. I will be the shipyard point of contact for your refit, and I'll schedule a meeting with you and your XO for tomorrow morning at 0800 to kick off the schedule. Savvy?"

Dutch grinned at hearing such an anachronistic term. Savvy was an old term, even in his day, having originated during the Age of Exploration. The term was widely used among ancient pirates, and was believed to have evolved from the Spanish word sabe, which meant 'he knows,' or from the French savez-vous, meaning 'do you know?.' Savvy was often meant to convey comprehension or imply understanding, and Dutch appreciated its use, even as he wondered at whether or not the woman deliberately hoped to impress him with her usage of such an antiquated turn of phrase.

"Arrr, we'll be seeing ye at eight bells, then!" he replied, with his best impression of a pirate.

Tyce looked confused, while Pennet actually giggled, impressed with his response.

"Ye do know that I hale from a long line of pirates, now, don't ye?" he added, to her continued amusement.

"It seems fitting, all things considered," she nodded, still grinning.

Ahead of them, on the shipyard end of the boarding tube, Director Philson waited for them, along with Commander Doherty.

Pausing to extend his hand, Tyce bade them a farewell. "I have other pressing matters to attend to, Captain. It was certainly a pleasure speaking with you!"

Taking his hand, immediately rewarded with a firm grip, Dutch agreed, "Yes, I thank you for the tour of your team's handiwork."

Pleased, the man nodded to Dutch, then again to Philson, and took his leave.

The Director of Engineering and Technology turned a questioning glance to Dutch. "I take it you approved of our work, then?"

"Well, I suppose the final proof will be in the handling, but yes, the ship looks impressive," Dutch admitted freely.

"High praise, indeed," Philson smiled. "Now, if I can pry you away from Ms. Pennet, the Commander has some items to discuss with you, as do I."

*****Ship's Time: 1730, Day 60*****

"Honeys, I'm home!" Dutch called out as he entered the bridge of the Odyssey. The very empty bridge. Passing through the bridge, he headed toward their living quarters. Opening the hatch, he entered, hearing activity inside.

Pausing, he tapped his comm badge, saying "Prime, please secure the main hatch. No one to come aboard tonight, unless it is us returning later."

"Understood, Dutch. Main Access Hatch secured," the AI responded.

Moving into his living quarters, he was amazed at the swirl of activity in progress. Pheebs looked to be applying the final bits of makeup to her face, wrapped only in a towel. D'narius was already dressed in a nice casual outfit that was clingy in the right places, but still allowed her freedom of movement, with her hair pulled into a high ponytail. Jjan'tira was just getting dressed, her hair in a regular ponytail, and Alisia was nowhere in sight, but he heard the shower running.

"Do we have plans of which I'm unaware?" he asked the room, anticipating that one of his wives would fill him in.

"Yes, but they require you to go shower," Pheebs informed him, looking at him in her mirror, one eyebrow raised admonishingly. "Now, please!"

The other women giggled at that, then avoided letting him touch any of them, directing him to the shower.

Stripping out of his uniform, he entered the shower as Alisia was stepping out the other side, making room for him as she grabbed her towel and exited. Looking back, he saw Alisia dart out of the room, leaving him to shower alone. Shrugging, he tossed his uniform into the recycler and did as he'd been asked, scrubbing off the remnants of the day.

Exiting the shower, Dutch dried himself quickly, then stepped over to the washbasin and lathered up his neck, giving himself a quick shave, brushed his hair and his teeth, then applied deodorant, aftershave, and exited, tossing the towel into the recycler as he went out to the bedroom where he found a set of clothes already laid out for him. The ladies selected a nice burgundy top for him to wear, with no collar and billowy sleeves, black trousers which were to be tucked into shiny black boots, the net effect leaving him looking vaguely like a privateer. Looking at his reflection, he thought all that was missing was a cutlass belted to his hip and a large golden earring.

His wives were ready to go as soon as he finished getting dressed, and Alisia and Pheebs led the way as D'narius and Jjan'tira each took an arm and followed behind them.

Realizing he was going wherever they wanted, Dutch plastered a grin on his face and went along with them without protest, and without question, enjoying the view of the swaying asses in front of him. Upon exiting the far end of the boarding tube, having just entered the station, the group ushered him to his right and stepped up to a clearplaz transport tube, where a car was awaiting them. They'd no sooner taken their seats in the car than its door closed and away they zoomed, racing through the heart of the station, clear across to the opposite side, where they'd not yet visited.

Arriving abruptly at a polished landing platform, the car whooshed to a halt, its door opening automatically, and the occupants made their exit. Stepping out onto the platform, Dutch cast his gaze around him, taking in the sights.

There appeared to be a large queue of people waiting to enter someplace advertising itself as 'Antonio's,' but his entourage led him past the line, directly up to the doorman. Pheebs engaged in a brief exchange with the uniformed attendant, and apparently, some criteria were met, because the man immediately stepped aside and ushered the group past the queue and into the establishment.

As soon as the group passed the entrance, a hostess stepped up and conferred with Pheebs, and a moment later was leading them through a very crowded eating establishment to a private room in the back.

Once past a final set of doors, Dutch found that he and his wives were in a room that felt simultaneously infinite and grand, possessing an astonishing view of Rigellia below them, one entire wall consisting of a thick panel of clearplaz, with the other walls displaying odd projected artwork and diagrams that looked tantalizingly familiar. The center of the room was occupied by a glowing, levitating table large enough to seat many more than his party.

Dutch found himself being led to the far end of the table, D'narius and Jjan'tira still escorting him, until he was standing at the head, whereupon they released his arms. Each bestowed him with a lingering kiss before they stepped back, making room for Alisia to kiss him next. Finally, Pheebs stepped up and kissed him before all four women took seats to either side of his.

"Why do I get the feeling that this is more than just a family dinner out?" Dutch murmured, guessing the size and features of the room were too much for a simple private dinner. "What are you girls up to?" he asked them suspiciously.

"Now, why would you think that your wives were responsible for this?" a familiar voice asked, as Danielli Carpizzi stepped through a side door into the room, dressed in flowing civilian garb that hugged and flowed in all the right places. She held the door as a small parade of unfamiliar people began to file through. At least two dozen various individuals entered the private room, all circling around to take positions at the table, until all the seats were accounted for. Dutch noticed that Danielli took a position immediately beside Jjan'tira.

A wizened older gentleman entered the room through the side door, dressed in what appeared to be a chef's attire - a bright white smock, a foppish hat, dark trousers, and simple dark shoes. The man himself appeared to be what Dutch would have considered to be someone in their sixties - he truly had no idea how that would translate on Rigellia, let alone whether today's humans lived longer than did those of his era - though he was unbent by age. His hair was mostly salt with a few sprinkles of pepper, the lines along his face were deeply etched, his blue eyes shown brightly from beneath his thick bristly eyebrows, and a push-broom mustache rested above what appeared to be a perpetual smile.

"Welcome, friends, to Antonio's - the finest Italian cuisine this side of the galactic rim!" the man exclaimed from where he'd come to stand, near the head of the table. "Tonight, I am pleased to be your host as we gather in celebration. Food options will be displayed on your table, and drinks will be served presently. I will return to check on you throughout the course of the evening, but welcome, and enjoy!"

Clapping his hands together, he pivoted and departed straightaway, passing staff carrying flagons of water and carafes of wine to offer the guests. Loaves of warm bread were distributed around the table, along with traditional oils and tubs of garlic butter. The projections on the wall seemed to shift through a series of historical photographs, although none seemed to be familiar to Dutch. In the background, a quiet melody played, partly orchestral, partly synthesized, blending echoes of past and future.

Attempting and failing to make sense of it all, Dutch finally leaned in and looked at the five women around him with whom he was familiar. "Would one of you be so kind as to tell me what this is all about?"

Leaning forward to look past Jjan'tira and Alisia, Danielle flashed him a broad smile, her dimples showing through prettily on her face, as she gave him an odd look, like a child might give her elder, and said, "It's about you, grandfather!"

Dutch narrowly avoided a spit take, as he was just about to take a drink of water. "I beg your pardon?" he sputtered incredulously.

"Well, my forty-fourth great grandfather, to be more precise!" she grinned at him.

On the wall behind her, one of the pictures began to make sense, as it was a three-dimensional diagram tracing lineages back through the many generations until they all coalesced to a singular vertex, with a difficult-to-read name next to it. Suddenly, the picture zoomed in to that point, making it easier to see the name - Bram Stoenager [Dec. 1, 2080 - Aug. 12, 2125]. Next to his name was that of his ex-wife, Denise Stoenager [Mar. 9, 2085 - Apr. 20, 2182], with a little line up to their son, Michael Stoenager [Apr. 15, 2113 - Jan. 27, 2231]. Before he could catch any other details, such as the name of his son's wife, the diagram zoomed out again and began randomly spinning and highlighting various names throughout the next forty-plus generations, showing where many lines suddenly came to an end, but others continued.

Across from Danielli, an older woman stood and addressed the gathering. "The flight of the Odyssey was humanity's first and last attempt to break the light barrier, to travel faster than light." Pictures on the wall cycled through old stock photos of the original Odyssey, as well as her pilot. "Its pilot was often regarded as a brave man, but was also an accomplished scientist and engineer, having largely designed several previous test craft, as well as the Odyssey herself. History rewarded that man's service by naming two different classes of vessels after him over the next ten centuries, including the first of the terraforming vessels. My grandfather, one of the last to bear the surname of Bram, was the captain of the Maelstrom-class I. S. S. Stoenager, known to have fought valiantly through many years of the war, before being counted among the mourned brave at the Battle of the Wall." The woman dabbed at moist eyes as she smiled at Dutch, and then returned to her seat.

A few seats past her, a slender young man stood and placed a large object covered in a cloth on the table before him. "My family sprang from a long line of explorers, with Dutch not exactly the first, and certainly not the last. To honor that tradition, I've created this bust to commemorate that spirit of exploration. I hope you like it, as it is a gift to you!" Uncovering the item revealed it to be a starlight-infused crystalline carving of a sextant, used by ancient mariners to navigate by the stars.

On the other side of the table, one of his descendants stood and recounted a tale of how his family once faced a dark and dangerous time, when they'd first encountered the Bokk, a savage race of noble warriors from the Galapagos sector. Nathanial Stoenager was once the leader of a group of colonists who were plying out survival on a cold, barren world long since abandoned when the Bokk arrived and confronted them, calling them 'invaders.' Nathanial attempted to negotiate with the Bokk, but his attempts were spurned, and the Bokk intended to kill the colonists. Finally, in desperation, Nathanial challenged the leader of the Bokk to single combat. The savage's pride would not allow the challenge to go unanswered, so the two faced off. Although Nathanial was mortally wounded during the battle, he did manage to impress the chieftain so much with his bravery and skills, that he permitted the surviving colonists to leave with their lives.

One by one, the other attendees stood to relate how they shared a common lineage with the man at the head of the table, and Dutch sat and listened in wonder and amazement at their tales. Dinner was served during the process, but the guests continued to share with him, until finally it came down to Danielli. The food was being cleared away, and drinks refilled when she finally stood, tall and proud, and told her tale.

"My mother. Elayna, was of the Stoenager line. She was a tall, strong woman, plain-spoken and direct. She grinned frequently, as if hearing a joke only for her ears, and listened attentively when someone spoke to her. Her eyes were piercing, as if looking upon some faraway fire. She never missed an opportunity to teach me, prizing critical thinking above all else, and always strove to see the good in others. I miss her dearly, but see much of her in this man, my teacher, her distant predecessor, and the Captain of the Odyssey."

Stepping around Jjan'tira and Alisia, Danielle rushed up to Dutch as he rose from his seat, wrapping him in a hug. As the two stood there, embracing one another, others began to rise and make their way to the head of the table. One by one, he embraced them all, striving to hold back the tears, as they each held him for a moment, welcoming him back to the family.

*****Ship's Time: 2315 Day 60*****

Making sure the outer hatch was secure, Dutch made his tired way through the ship until he reached their quarters. Closing the hatch behind him, he mused how different the entrance to their quarters might be after tomorrow. Turning, he saw that his wives were already removing their clothing, stripping off their makeup, and letting down their hair, all in preparation for bed.

It'd been a few weeks since they'd all slept together, at the same time. To Dutch, it felt like life was returning to normal. He paused to give that concept some additional thought. Normal. Here he was, in space, on a ship older than any vessel in human history, with four wives. This was his new normal. The oddity of it all struck him, causing him to chuckle in self-reflection.

"Did you enjoy yourself this evening, dear?" Pheebs asked him softly as she stepped up to him, running one hand along his jawline as she peered into his eyes.

Dutch nodded mutely, still too overcome for words.

D'narius stepped close, wrapping her arms around them both. "The ship feels oddly silent, does it not?" she inquired, with a wistful smile.

"It is the spaces in between," Dutch muttered, stirring from his reverie.

Puzzled by his response, D'narius tilted her head to one side, giving him a questioning glance as she waited for him to make sense of his odd statement.

Taking notice of her confusion, Dutch nodded to himself, then added, his eyes glistening, "Our lives are a hodgepodge collection of stories - some exciting, some tragic, but always swollen with details, sharp, bitter, wonderful, tragic. But, it is the quiet times for which we all yearn - the spaces in between."

"Oh, Bram, are you feeling well?" Pheebs asked him, suddenly concerned.

Dutch sighed, not the least because he heard the echoes of his mother in Pheeb's voice, hearkening him back to an impossibly far-off youth. "I'm fine, my dear. It just occurred to me that I may be the oldest thing I know. All of those stories...." His voice trailed off for a moment, then he blinked and seemed to shake himself. "I feel young, in spite of the evidence to the contrary. This evening was an amazing surprise, and I thank all of you for arranging it."

Smiling, Alisia stepped up to them and explained, "We had very little to do with it, sweetheart. Your many-times great-granddaughter organized this evening's event - with help, I am certain, but it originated with her. We merely preserved her surprise."

Dutch smiled, the warmth of his emotions washing over him for the moment. Suddenly, he gave a start, looking a bit guilty for a moment as a thought crept into his consciousness.

"Before I forget," he yawned, "we've got things to do over the next few days. I've agreed to allow the Rigellians to perform a limited overhaul on the Odyssey - Pheebs, I'd like you to take point on this engagement." An array of female hands assisted Dutch with the removal of his clothes. "We meet with the Shipyard Engineers at 0800 in the morning. Also, we've been invited to the commissioning ceremony for the Aurora Dancer, and there are a few other matters that are demanding our attention. We can discuss it more tomorrow, but we should get some rest while we can..." his voice trailed off as he felt himself being moved to their bed, his wives encircling him and gently moving him to his pillow.

Hot breath teased his cock as he was smothered in kisses, three of his wives rotating through, then only two as a second mouth joined the first down below. Dutch groaned into his kiss with Alisia as Pheebs and Jjan'tira kissed each other around his manhood, sliding teasingly down his length, then back up again, attacking his crown with their tongues.

Equally tantalizing was the three-way kiss that he, D'narius, and Alisia were embroiled in, each of them swiping across his tongue to kiss the other. Eventually, D'narius eased Alisia to one side as she rose up to straddle Dutch's face, presenting him with her other lips that needed his attention. At the same time, the two working on his lower half reached a similar agreement, as both lips withdrew, only to be replaced by the warm, slick embrace of a womanhood, easing itself all the way down his Captain's Mast.

The bed shifted around him as the other two women moved to the same side and began enjoying one another's company in a classic sixty-nine. Dutch was barely able to catch sight of this before D'narius became a bit more demanding of him, blocking his view as her backside descended to seat itself more firmly upon his face.

Rising to the challenge, Dutch reached up to grasp D'narius' well-muscled hips, running his hands all over her ass cheeks and thighs as he tongued her groove. His efforts were rewarded as her juices began to flow into his mouth and over his beard. Lapping up as much of her offering as he was able, he drove his tongue into her depths over and over, seeking out more.

Down below, Jjan'tira established a rhythm, lifting and falling more and harder, bouncing in delight upon his pleasure stick as she moaned out her joy. Dutch became gradually aware of her vaginal muscles rippling and gripping at him, clutching ever tighter as her pleasure rose to its peak.

Above him, D'narius was groaning her pleasure more and more loudly, as was Jjan'tira. He guessed that the two were locked in a passionate kiss, moaning into each other's mouth, probably groping one another's oh-so-sensitive tits. In his mind's eye, he pictured how the three of them must look, and was greatly pleased at how he imagined it must be.

Doubling down, Dutch shifted his focus to D'narius' pleasure nub, sucking at it, then biting at it gently, before swiping at it over and over with his stiffened tongue. He could feel her clit, hood, and surrounding labia beginning to stiffen, engorged with blood as her arousal reached a fever pitch. When he sensed her climax was near, Dutch began to hum loudly into D'narius' delicious snatch, the vibrations this produced transmitting to her already-overstimulated lady bits.

Dutch's mouth flooded with her cum as D'narius howled into Jjan'tira's mouth, her thighs tightening around his head so firmly he could hardly hear them. Swallowing for dear life, he continued his assault upon her, forcing her straight into a second orgasm, as he felt his cock being gripped tightly by Jjan'tira's nether regions, followed immediately by a surge of moisture in his lap. The two of them writhed in orgasm as he permitted his own climax to burst forth, flooding Jjan'tira's box with pulse after pulse of his hot jism.

As his orgasm subsided, he shifted to aftercare, no longer attacking D'narius' clit, but instead softly kissing and licking along her tender, swollen lips, lowering his hands to rub gently along both his partners' thighs, soothing them as they came down from their high.

Next to them, he could feel and hear his other two partners reaching their own peaks, first one, then the other going rigid, then quivering violently, then relaxing. After a few more minutes of each of them soothing the others, Alisia finally got up and moved to the adjoining en suite, returning moments later with two handfuls of warm washcloths.

All five of them briefly parted from one another to clean themselves up as best they could, before tossing the washcloths aside and arranging themselves for sleep, two women on each side of Dutch. Lying in between them all, Dutch reflected on the day, and thanked his lucky stars for how it ended.

Warmth, love, and happiness, all enfolded him as his eyes drifted shut, and the darkness took him.

*****Ship's Time: 0700, Day 61*****

Dutch placed a pitcher of iced water on the table, then hustled back to the dispenser to retrieve the plate of waffles, a tub of butter, and the jug of syrup, returning to offload the wonderful-smelling goodness at the table. Visually checking the fare, he felt that a 'good enough' breakfast awaited his wives. Pheebs was already in the shower - just finished, in fact - so he went to rouse the others.

"I have a table filled with delicious offerings, and all I need is a bevy of beautiful women to help me consume it!" he informed his sleepy-headed partners, tugging the covers from the bed as he roused them. "Time to rise and shine! Up, up, up!" He ducked as a pillow suddenly flew through the space his head had been occupying.

After another round of cajoling, Dutch was finally able to get the rest of his wives up and moving. One by one, they joined him at the table in the lounge portion of their suite, grabbing waffles and bacon, and asking Janice to make them their preferred beverages, which were wildly diverse. Coffee for Jjan'tira, tomato juice for D'narius, pineapple juice for Alisia, and sweet tea for Pheebs. Dutch decided on a flavored cola for this meal, and together they enjoyed a quick breakfast and idle banter.

All too soon, Dutch and Pheebs needed to rush off to meet Senior Engineer Pennet from the shipyards. The rest of the women opted to finish showering and getting dressed so as to be prepared to go to the christening ceremony later that morning.

On their way out, Pheebs paused and looked back at Alisia, one eyebrow arched thoughtfully. "It.... might not be a bad idea to pack a few bags... We might need to sleep elsewhere for a few nights." Turning, she hurried to catch up to Dutch.

By the time they arrived at the quarterdeck, Pennet was waiting for them in the boarding tube. Swinging the hatch inward, Dutch stepped back and invited the Senior Engineer aboard the Odyssey. As he observed her taking it all in, he realized this was the first time she'd been aboard the original vessel.

"Would you care to tour the original model before we begin, just so you get a better idea of any potential challenges that await you?" he offered Pennet politely.

The Senior Engineer paused for a moment to consider the offer, before she begrudgingly accepted, "We'll need to keep it brief - no more than 30 minutes - in order to keep you on schedule. After you, then!"

Pheebs actually took the lead at this point, possibly the only person more attached to the ship than her captain. Just under thirty minutes later, the tour ended on the bridge, and Pennet was stroking her chin in deep thought as she jotted down a few notes. "I really cannot express my awe at the power-to-mass ratio this ship delivers," she effused, pausing her notes to look pointedly at Pheebs. "Not to mention the poetry of the whole 'ship made mortal' thing you bring to the mix. That's a neat trick we've yet to work out."

"Well, good luck if you figure it out," the first officer chuckled. "I'm sure Dutch can't be the only Captain who'd prefer to marry his ship."

This made Pennet smirk and glance at Dutch before returning her attention to Pheebs. "Do you consider yourself synthetic," the female engineer pondered, "or have you contemplated the question?"

"Oh, I am definitely organic in nature," Pheebs assured the other woman, "although I was created, I am not synthetic by any means."

"That's amazing!" the older woman enthused. "I'm sure our scientists would love to have more data on you..."

"I think we'll defer that for another time," Dutch advised, wanting to get back to the business at hand.

"As you wish, Captain," Pennet hurried to accept. "I think I'd like to get the Odyssey over to Cestus so we can get her into dry dock. Before we head over that way, do you wish for you and your other wives to remain here at Antares station, or...?"

"We'll all take a shuttle back from Cestus once we get Odyssey settled in," Dutch confirmed, not willing to be completely trusting where both his ship and his wife were concerned. After all, he reasoned, there were still sleeper agents yet to be discovered working with the Lyserions. Pennet seemed trustworthy, but so did McKenzie and Shune. While he'd never vocalize his doubts, he would still pay heed to them.

Pheebs cast him a sharp glance, as if reading his thoughts, before she turned back to Pennet. "We can continue to review the planned itinerary you've put together for the refit en route to Cestus, so long as you don't mind Dutch piloting us there."

"Of course!" Pennet acceded, and both women moved to auxiliary stations to discuss the refit schedule while Dutch took the helm.

Tapping his comm badge, "Prime, please close and secure the docking hatch, and then request clearance from Antares Station to depart."

His badge chirped in acknowledgment, and a few moments later, Prime reported, "Docking hatch closed and secured. The docking clamps have been released, and the boarding tube has been retracted. All moorings are cleared, and we are free to navigate."

Dutch grinned to himself, relishing the opportunity to fly his own ship - the times were not often, so he relished them all, no matter how trivial the excuse.

Tapping on the controls, he gently nudged his ship away from the station's docking ring, then dipped the Odyssey down slightly, using only attitude jets as he allowed the Rigellian gravity to assist him as he slowly moved clear of Antares, before engaging thrusters to maneuver clear of the station, and finally engaged his engines to quickly transit from station to shipyards. The trip took less than twenty minutes, and Dutch was quickly given clearance from the Cestus traffic controller to bring his ship into slipway number twenty-two.

A holographic course was projected on his display and echoed to the main view screen, and Dutch casually piloted Odyssey smoothly along the path, gradually slowing until he'd brought her alongside the mooring point. Shutting down his engines, he used station-keeping thrusters to stabilize the ship, align her perfectly to the mooring gantry, and bring her to a soft-dock with the boarding tube.

Automated systems engaged, and the docking clamps secured the boarding tube to Odyssey. As soon as his console indicated the tube was pressurized and the seal was positive, he cycled his hatch through the pressure equalization routine and opened it.

The transit was completed, and Dutch went through full systems shutdown procedures, leaving Prime online and quietly instructing her to help Pheebs keep an eye on everything that was done so that there would be no surprises in store for them later.

Tapping his comm badge, Dutch reached out to his other wives. "Alisia, are you and the others about ready to depart for shore? We should be prepared to live away from the ship for the next three days, plus or minus."

Alisia responded, "Already packed, and headed for the quarterdeck, dear. Want us to wait for you shore-side?"

Dutch thought about this for a moment before responding, "I'm not exactly sure where we'll be lodging yet, so probably best you wait on the docks. We will be right behind you."

Pennet chimed in with, "I believe the Director has set aside lodging for you and your family on the Antares station, but I've also set aside a staging area for you guys here on Cestus. I'll have one of my aides escort your party to your staging area as soon as we are finished here."

Pheebs turned to Dutch with a knowing grin. "Why don't you go ahead with the others - I'll be along in a few moments, just as soon as Jordon and I smooth out a few final details."

Taking a last look around, Dutch nodded his agreement. "I'll go ahead with the others. We'll see you over there shortly. Don't be too long." Leaning in, he gave Pheebs a quick kiss, then turned and offered his hand to Pennet.

"Take good care of her, Ms. Pennet. She's a special gal," Dutch nodded to the Senior Engineer.

Taking his hand and giving him a firm handshake, Pennet nodded her head sharply, assuring, "No worries, Captain. I'll have her spit-shined and back to you in sixty hours, as agreed."

Dutch made his way off the bridge, not bothering to close the hatch behind him.

Pheebs watched him go for a moment, then turned back to the Senior Engineer. "Okay, then, why don't we go over your task list and schedule one final time, before I leave you to get started...."

*****Late Morning, Cestus Shipyards*****

Dutch tugged once again at the collar of his dress uniform. The fit was fine, his wives assured him, but he hated the feel of the stiff collar so high on his neck. His wives stood next to him, similarly attired in dress uniforms, attentively listening to Fleet Admiral Bearing's speech.

They were a small part of the larger crowd attending today's ceremony. Friends and family of the crew mingled with various dignitaries and government officials along the pier of the shipyard slipway containing the new starship, all of them facing toward a lectern, from which the Admiral was speaking, commemorating this important event.

The slipway itself was one of a large array of similar berths stretching away from the crowd, all contained within a pressurized enclosure just within the mantle of the moon Cestus. The Odyssey was far enough down the line to be obscured by the various gantries and machinations of the shipyard, but several similar looking hulls were visible in the intervening space, many of which appeared to be complete and preparing for their own commissioning.

From the lectern, Bearing gave a very typical speech, introducing the audience to this new ship. "The Aurora Dancer, the first in our new line of starships, is more than an engineering marvel. She is a symbol of hope, a beacon of collaboration, and a promise of what we can achieve together."

"The Aurora Dancer will serve alongside other starships as our fleet grows, eventually joining ships from other colonies, weaving its story into the grand tapestry of the Alliance fleet. Together, we will forge bonds that transcend planetary boundaries, defending our shared ideals and exploring the limitless mysteries of the cosmos. This vessel is not simply crafted with metals and machinery--she is imbued with the dreams, sweat, and dedication of countless individuals who dared to envision a future among the stars."

A group of ten officers and twenty enlisted crewmen marched single file onto the stage during the Admiral's speech, came to a halt, and smartly turned to face the audience.

"To her crew, I say: You are more than navigators of the Aurora Dancer; you are torchbearers of Rigellian ambition and human resilience. Let this starship be an extension of your courage and resourcefulness, guiding you through trials unknown and victories yet to come."

"As Fleet Admiral, I christen the Aurora Dancer today with unwavering confidence in her mission - and in yours. May her journeys inspire generations to reach for the heavens, to stand united in adversity, and to dance gracefully through the vast expanse of space."

"May this ship's name echo through the stars and through history itself. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Aurora Dancer!"

Madame Celeste Tyce, the Chief Shipwright's senior spouse, swung a large bottle at the side of the ship, breaking the champagne decanter against the hull in a tradition reaching back millennia, to when ships sailed the oceans of Earth. The crowd erupted in applause, and holographic balloons sprung forth to temporarily obscure the ship from view, until they eventually 'floated away,' and the Admiral raised her hand, palm out towards the audience, requesting their attention once more.

As soon as the noise level quieted down, Bearing spoke again, her amplified voice booming throughout the gathered crowd. "And now, it is my pleasure to introduce to you the founding crew of the Aurora Dancer."

Bearing continued, "Freshly back from their recent training cruise under the tutelage of the Stonerager himself, Captain Dutch Stoenager, and his crew, I present to you Commander Bryce Fallon, his executive officer, Lt. Commander Charlise Griffon, and Operations Officer, Lt. Commander Cameron Galt, as well as the junior officers and enlisted crew of the Aurora Dancer." The Admiral turned and led the crowd in applauding the thirty officers and crewmen.

Pheebs leaned over to whisper to Dutch, "I don't see Jontalla anywhere. Was she not part of that cadre of plank owners?"

Dutch nodded, whispering back to her, "She was, but she's chosen to pursue a different option. I'll tell you more later." Though he was attempting to shrug it off, Pheebs gave him a sharp look, silently accusing him of knowing more than he was telling. "Later, I promise," he quietly reassured her.

Still giving him the side eye, Pheebs let it go for the moment.

As the band broke into what Dutch recognized as the Rigellian Anthem, the assembled crew was dismissed, and several of them came down from the raised stage to mingle with the crowd. Fallon, Griffon, and Galt all made their way over to their families, receiving congratulations and hugs all around.

After a few minutes, each managed to extricate themselves and wandered over to Dutch and his crew. Their dress uniforms closely matched the ones that Dutch and his crew wore, the Rigellian Fleet opting to adopt the design to show unity with the Alliance. Stepping up to stand before him, Fallon, Galt, and Griffon all snapped to attention and saluted Dutch sharply.

Returning their salute, Dutch grinned openly at each of them. "Congratulations, you three. What lies in store for you next?"

Fallon grinned sheepishly as he admitted, "A few weeks of space trials, to begin with - lets us test all of the major systems, while the egg-heads complete work they're doing to hook us up with better comms. Something remarkably similar to our first week aboard the Odyssey, I suspect. Minus the encounter with the Noraxians, I hope!"

Griffon added, "At the end of week one, we'll test the jump drive - go from one edge of the system to the other - baby steps. After that? Who knows?"

Galt remarked, "By then, Majestic Horizon and Noble Serenity should be out there with us, going through their paces. In no time, we'll have a small fleet ready to begin exploring and reaching out again - hopefully, by then, you'll have met with the iShan'tal and we won't need to be sneaky about things..."

"That's the plan," Dutch agreed, leaving unspoken his suspicions about the Noraxi Syndicate, the Lyserions, and other unresolved issues.

Just then, Chancellor Opstrom stepped up to the tiny gathering. "Well, this crew looks like trouble, without a doubt," she grinned as she extended her hand to Fallon. "Congratulations on your new assignment, Commander."

"Thank you, Madam Chancellor. The honor is mine," the newly minted Commander effused. "My crew and I will do Rigellia proud!"

"Of that, I have no doubt," she beamed, then looked slightly apologetic. "I'm afraid I must borrow the good Captain here for a few moments. If you'll excuse us?" Turning, she looked significantly at Dutch as she stepped away from the group.

Dutch excused himself and sidled over by the Chancellor. "You're being mysterious this morning, Norda," he teased the elder stateswoman softly, too low to be overheard.

"A little intrigue can go a long way, Dutch," she replied smoothly. "Let the others wonder what we're whispering about. Curiosity keeps people on their toes."

"Was there something else you wanted to discuss, Ma'am?" Dutch asked her in a more serious tone.

"Let's walk together, Captain," she said, turning to walk parallel to the starship floating nearby in its slip.

The two of them walked a moderate distance from the crowd, and as soon as they were well outside of earshot, the chancellor held up her hand to shield her mouth, and revealed, "We managed to get some more information from Reginald Baatran. It's enough to give me pause."

"I suspected as much," Dutch confirmed, allowing his gaze to track over the lines of the starship as if they were discussing the vessel. "More about the conspirators here on Rigellia, or concerning the Lyserions?"

"Both, actually," she denoted casually, in a low tone of voice. "I'm afraid there remains the potential of an ongoing threat to our efforts here on Cestus, as well as a growing concern about the Lyserions' intentions."

"So, which one is the bigger priority? I'd think the conspiracy at home would be your focal interest, but perhaps I'm missing something?"

The Chancellor paused for a moment to look at Dutch, and her unexpected movement saved her life. A barely visible streak of light shot straight past where she would have been if she hadn't altered her movements, a puff of smoke emanating from her hair where the attack passed millimeters from her head, causing a tiny crackle of discharge on the platform many yards beyond her.

Instinctively, Dutch activated his personal shield generator, the air around him shimmering briefly as the field integrity formed. He turned toward the direction from which the attack came, deliberately angling to use his body to shield the Chancellor. Multiple shots briefly blinded him as they detonated against his shield, forcing him back a step.

Spotting movement along the hull of the Aurora Dancer, Dutch launched himself into motion, covering the intervening meters in a flash as his enhanced muscles surged. Several more shots deflected off of his PSG field as he quickly closed the gap, sprinting at inhuman speed. Leaping the final meters separating the pier from the hull of the ship, he landed close to where the attackers were concealed beneath the banner draped across the bow.

Allowing his momentum to carry him forward, Dutch pressed his attack into the face of the two would-be assassins. Savagely bringing the heel of his palm across the bridge of the first attacker's nose, Dutch was rewarded with a cry of agony and the crunch of shattered bone.

Pushing past the first assailant, Dutch barreled into the second attacker just as he shifted his weapon to automatic fire, receiving a spray of powerful energy blasts directly into his shielded chest. Dutch could feel the heat of the energy dissipating as he brought his booted foot up and turned it slightly, stomping down and forward at the attacker's knee. The blow was effective, resulting in a compound fracture, and the second attacker was down, writhing in pain.

Dutch was about to kick their weapons away when he heard more shots being fired, further aft along the Dancer's hull. Snatching the rifle out of the second man's hands, he pivoted to his right and brought the weapon up in one smooth motion, seeking a target. What he saw through the optics nearly made him lose his footing.

Approximately seventy meters aft, another pair of gunmen staged their assault, attacking the command crew and nearby guests. Two women - one with white hair, the other with ginger hair - managed to confront the other attackers, much as Dutch was doing. They were dispatching them efficiently, requiring no supporting assistance from him. But a glance dockside sent a panic up Dutch's spine. Several bodies were sprawled on the pier, at least one of which possessed ginger hair.

Just then, behind him, the man with the shattered nose slashed across Dutch's shield-protected back with a blade, the impulse of the blow still traveling through the shield and knocking him forward. Spinning around, Dutch triggered the weapon in his hands directly at the man's center of mass. The gun was set to auto, and a torrent of energy beams incinerated a gaping hole in the man's midsection, nearly cutting him in half.

Seeing the first attacker no longer posed a threat, Dutch checked the second attacker. That one was down, writhing in pain, but still a threat. Dutch quickly reversed the rifle in his hands and slammed the butt into the second attacker's face, knocking him unconscious.

The blare of sirens finally penetrated the fog of adrenaline that nearly deafened Dutch, and he scanned the area, looking for any other threats. Seeing none, he checked next on Pheebs. Upon careful examination, he could discern that the clone with her was Alisia. Both appeared to have effectively handled the threat posed by the second attackers.

That meant that either D'narius or Jjan'tira was injured. Turning to survey the wounded, he saw medics quickly converging on the scene. His breath caught when he saw the number of injured, making him fear for the worst.

Knowing there was nothing more he could do for his wives, Dutch pivoted around to the wounded attacker that he'd knocked unconscious. dropping the rifle, he instead picked up the assailant and began to carry him toward the closest access hatch, wanting to secure the man quickly for later interrogation.

As he neared an access hatch on the port side of the vessel's hull, the hull of the Aurora Dancer lurched beneath him. The shockwave from a nearby explosion slammed into him from the front, knocking him onto his back while ripping the captured assailant from his grasp. Dutch was vaguely aware of the sound of secondary explosions, and the hull beneath him shuddering before his world went dark.

Consciousness returned slowly, amid muffled sounds attempting to pierce the ringing in his ears. Dutch blinked his eyes as he lurched upward, struggling to sit up, then immediately regretted doing so as the world around him spun and heaved. Hands helped keep him from sagging backward, and he slowly focused on Pheebs' tear and smoke-streaked face. She was saying something, but he couldn't make out the words.

Shaking his head slowly, he gestured to his ears, and muttered, "Can't hear. Shell shocked."

Looking around quickly, Pheebs appeared to shout something to someone beyond his line of sight and waved one arm wildly. The ship's hull pitched wildly beneath him, and Dutch felt himself slipping from consciousness once more. This time, the darkness took him completely.

*****

Sometime later, Dutch slowly swam back to consciousness. He was vaguely aware of multiple aches and pains, from the dull throbbing in his head to the numbness all along his right side. Sounds penetrated his awareness - the slight hiss of a pressure cuff as it relaxed its clenching squeeze on his left arm, muffled noises in the background, and someone talking about how amazed they were the patient hadn't been torn in half by the blast, unlike the body he'd been carrying.

The same voice went on to theorize that the violence of the blast, combined with the patient's nearness to it overloaded the capacity of his PSG, resulting in a catastrophic failure of the device, damaging the patient's ribs and spleen.

'Damn,' he thought dreamily, 'some poor fucker took a beating.'

The voice continued to rudely interrupt his rest, talking about how any normal human would have succumbed to these injuries but informed the other person that their husband was quite fortunate. The speaker stopped for a moment, mercifully, as Dutch felt a pinch and a tug at his left side, followed by a spreading chill. Still, even supermen needed rest to recover, the voice observed. Sound seemed to stretch and diminish, before finally fading to a dim echo and vanishing altogether.

Seemingly an eternity later, Dutch felt himself again regaining consciousness. This time, he was able to open his eyes and survey his surroundings. The sterile environment, monitoring apparatus, and chilly air confirmed his suspicion that he was in a hospital of some sort.

To his left, Pheebs sat slouched in a chair, napping. No one else could be seen, although he heard the sounds of activities beyond the curtain partitioning off his space from others nearby. Sitting up slowly, he winced as pain stabbed at him on his right side. Lifting the bed covers, he looked down to see translucent mesh-like wrappings around his lower torso. Dark bruising could be seen through the wrappings, right in the area giving him discomfort. No open wounds were visible, however, so he continued to gingerly move, swinging his legs out of the bed to reach for the floor.

The flooring beneath him was cold on his bare feet. His legs protested at first, but were gradually able to accept his weight, and he tentatively rose from his bed. A tugging on his left side alerted him to a collar on his arm, with some tubing feeding into it. Grasping at the seal, he parted the material, freeing his arm from it. A high-pitched beeping keened from the device above the head of his bed as graphical trend lines fell flat on a digital chart. He quickly silenced the alarm by slapping the power button.

Pheebs stirred in her chair, suddenly sitting upright when she observed Dutch on his feet. "Hey," she urged him, "you should be in bed!" Struggling to her feet, she approached him with worry plainly evident on her features.

Taking her arm in his hand, he steadied himself, fighting off a wave of dizziness. "Where's my uniform?" he demanded, needing to attend to... something... he wasn't sure what, but it was fucking important.

"Dutch, I mean it," she insisted, "you need to sit your ass back down right the fuck now. I'll find your clothes, but sit down. Please!"

Seeing the determination in her eyes, he relented and sagged back onto the bed. Closing his eyes until the wave of nausea passed, he took in a deep, steadying breath. Opening his eyes once more, he locked his gaze upon her and entreated, "How bad?"

Pausing to consider her words, Pheebs eventually relented. "Bad enough." Sighing, she continued, "You saved the Chancellor, but her Adjutant is dead. He took the shot meant for the Admiral. So is Gant. Griffon was injured but has already been discharged. O'Connor is okay. Her brother didn't make it, but her father is in recovery."

"What about...?" he couldn't finish the question.

"Alisia was injured in the blasts but is recovering. She's asleep next door," Pheebs responded. After a brief pause, she continued, tears gathering in her eyes, "Jjan'tira was shot in the right arm - she underwent surgery last night to remove the arm - it was beyond repair. They can medically regrow the limb - she'll be in a regrowth chamber for the rest of the day. She may need some therapy afterward, but she should be fine."

Letting out a breath, he shook his head, dreading the next part. "Go on," he pleaded quietly.

"D'narius was activating her PSG when she was hit in the head," Pheebs sobbed. "The shield caught part of the energy of the shot, but the damage was still extensive. The doctors aren't sure if she will make it. She's in a coma."

Pheebs was suddenly in his arms. He hadn't moved. Hadn't seen her move. But she was there, her body shuddering as she wept on his shoulder, the fear that she'd held at bay flooding out of her.

Dutch held her in his arms, stroking her as they wept together, grateful that she was okay. They held one another silently for several minutes, until Dutch leaned back and looked down at her.

"Everything's going to be alright," he soothed her. "We'll get through this, and get back to doing what we do. But I'm going to need some clothes."

She chuckled in his embrace, sniffing at her tears and giving him one last hug that made him realize his ribs were quite tender. Stepping away from him, Pheebs moved over to a nearby wall littered with various panels and touched one, bringing up an interface for a 'maker' - what the Rigellians called their version of synthesizers - and requested a fresh uniform for Dutch.

As she turned to hand him the stack of clothing and boots, Dutch realized that Pheebs was no longer in her dress uniform, but was back in her regular duty uniform.

"How long have we been here?" he asked her, concerned about how long he'd been out.

Pheebs answered him while she helped with his clothes, "The attack was yesterday in the late morning. It is just now mid-afternoon. You've been out just over a day."

"What? How....? I was knocked back by an explosion, but don't think I was injured..." he struggled to recall his last memories.

"Dutch, the attackers placed charges on the hull of the Aurora Dancer. When the ship's AI detected the attack, she couldn't raise the shields, so she did the next best thing and polarized the hull. The damage to the Dancer was minimal, but the blast was deflected along the hull," she explained, helping him put on his undershirt. "Alisia and I were further aft - we didn't take the brunt of the blast. You were practically on top of it. The man you were carrying was atomized, as was the other. You were blown back - nearly off the hull completely - and your PSG overloaded and was destroyed. You're lucky to be alive. Now take it slow - I mean it!"

Dutch was stunned - he hadn't realized the full extent of the explosions. As he stepped into his trousers, he asked, "Did we take any of them alive? The attackers?"

"One," she eventually answered. "The new head of security has taken her somewhere to peel her apart and get everything they can out of her."

"Okay," he sighed, doing his best to stop the room from spinning long enough to get his boots on. "Let's start by checking in on the other girls, and take it from there." Pausing suddenly, he stood upright, a fresh panic in his eyes. "What about Prime? Have you checked in with her? Is the Odyssey alright?"

Helping him smooth on his uniform jacket, Pheebs reached down and plucked his comm badge from her pocket, placing it on his chest. "Ask her yourself."

Pheebs turned back to the wall and tapped in another order for the maker.

As she was busy with whatever she was doing, Dutch tapped his comm badge. "Prime, do you read me?"

"Loud and clear, Dutch. Are you finally awake, lazybones?" his AI responded.

"I may be dreaming. I don't recall my ship having an insolent attitude," he admitted ruefully,

"And I don't recall a Captain that got himself blown up, so I guess we're even," the ship responded smarmily.

"Fair enough," he acknowledged. "How go the upgrades? They still doing them, and if so, are they treating you right?"

"Senior Engineer Pennet has kept to the agreed-upon schedule," Prime informed him airily. "I expect to be ready for inspection by 1600 tomorrow, if you happen to find yourself with a little free time and care to drop by."

"I'll try to make my way over there," he replied dryly, fascinated by this new personality development. "Try to be prettied up for me, will you?"

"Such a charmer," the ship replied, then broke the connection.

"Is it me, or is she developing a snarky attitude?" Dutch asked Pheebs.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she pouted playfully. "She and I get along just fine."

Pheebs handed Dutch a freshly made PSG unit, which he gingerly attached to his waist, that entire area still feeling a little tender.

Taking in a deep breath, he stood tall and turned to his first officer. "Shit's not going to sort itself out, so we'd best get to it."

Together, they both made their way out of his recovery bay and went in search of the others.

*****