Last Frontier Ep. 02 - The Anomaly

Author's Note: Like the beloved TV series of which this is a pastiche, the tone of "Last Frontier" is sometimes going to be dark and grittily realistic, and at other times light and somewhat outrageous.

...

The starship Vanguard is seen silhouetted against blackness dotted with myriad points of light, grav drives glowing against the dark background.

Voiceover (a clear, mature, female soprano): "Space is not a fertile field of stars. It is the Last Frontier. The Space Force starship Vanguard explores the starlanes for the Terran Colonies. We bring the hand of peace to those who wish peace. But we wield a sword to defend the Colonies against those who would threaten the innocent. We go where few dare."

...

In the expansive shuttle bay of the Vanguard, Captain Kaede Kawakami was standing just inside the lift doors. As it was first shift, she was dressed for duty in standard Fleet officer's uniform - a dark burgundy jacket with matching kilt hemmed just below the knee, leaving her athletic calves bare above her low uniform boots.

With a Captain's familiarity with every area of her ship, she was relaxedly scanning the space between the Vanguard's shuttles, one of which was powering up for flight.

Behind Kawakami, the lift door dilated open with a whoosh. "Looking for me, Kaede?" came a husky female voice, with just a hint of Highland in the vowels.

Kawakami turned to face the newcomer, a tall, whip-slender Commander in full Fleet dress uniform. While Kawakami had gray strands in her black hair, Second Officer Claire MacKichan's strawberry blonde hair, its length pinned up around her head in a complex braid, had gone fully roan. Compared to Kawakami's hint of crows-feet around the eyes, the far senior MacKichan's face was deeply set, laugh lines firmly etched. She wore the optional dress beret, but on her Hebridean features it seemed more like a Tam O'Shanter.

Kawakami held out her hand to shake in greeting, but MacKichan merely grasped the offered hand firmly and used it to pull Kawakami to herself for a distinctly non-regulation hug.

Breaking contact after a few seconds, Kawakami inquired "What makes you think you can get away with hugging your Captain like that?"

But the veteran Commander just grinned, "What are they going to do? Reassign me to a desk job? Give me early retirement? And how would it look in the news if they cashiered me just two years short of my double twenty, and with an Academy teaching job lined up?" MacKichan's urchin grin was unrepentant.

More subdued, Kawakami continued more quietly. "I'll be lost out there without you, old friend."

Sobering to match Kawakami's tone, MacKichan replied "Aye, you probably will. But young Jordan's a good officer. And he deserves a chance to show it."

Kawakami smiled somewhat ambivalently at that. Lt. Commander Jordan Hoff had indeed put in his time in the Fleet. This was his second tour of duty in space, and wouldn't have made it to one of the Fleet's prime postings if his previous superiors hadn't seen something.

But MacKichan had stayed in her post, ostensibly training Hoff as her replacement, for two years longer than they'd originally discussed - so the canny old warhorse couldn't have been entirely thrilled at the prospect of handing down the reins.

But Hoff wasn't MacKichan's responsibility anymore. He was Kawakami's.

Kawakami tapped her comms badge. "Captain Kawakami speaking," she specified.

"Lt. Farnsworth here, Captain," a musical feminine voice came back almost instantly, as if the duty Communications officer had been waiting for the call.

"Hail the Kestrel, Lieutenant," Kawakami requested. "Shuttle will be docking in ETA..." Kawakami checked her wrist computer. "... seventeen minutes. My compliments to Captain Torres."

Before the Lieutenant had even finished acknowledging with "Aye, Captain," Kawakami cut the connection and turned back to her old friend, who had re-shouldered her kit bag and was preparing to walk to the designated shuttle, which the pilot was just putting through final pre-flight checks.

"Send me a picture of you and your granddaughter Caitlin - she's, what... eleven?"

Cmdr. MacKichan snorted. "Sixteen going on thirty, dearie. She's applying to the Academy next spring. If she makes it past the exam, she'll be in the last class of cadets I'll be teaching."

Kawakami looked rueful. "As if I needed another reminder that the Fleet is a game for the young..."

MacKichan cocked her head. "Young at heart," she corrected cheerfully and stepped past Kawakami. She strode briskly over and entered the passenger hatch without looking back.

"That's just like you, Claire. Never look back," Kawakami mused.

Though her duty was done, Kawakami stayed to watch her old friend's shuttle leave. When the Captain turned back to the turbolift, she was lost in thought.

...

Some time later, nearing the end of a shift uneventful other than MacKichan's departure from the Vanguard, Kawakami was holding down the center seat at the rear focal point of Vanguard's elliptical bridge, athletic legs crossed just below the knee. Kawakami was monitoring the routine activity of the bridge with a fraction of her attention, but her exotic, saturnine face was still reflective. Still thinking about the end of the conversation with her old friend.

When the turbolift doors opened, the preoccupied Kawakami didn't notice. A tenor male voice, slightly nasal and carrying more than a hint of old European money, came from behind the command chair. "Third shift begins in two minutes, Captain. I relieve you."

Jolted into alertness, Kawakami swung the chair around to face the officer who had just entered the bridge.

Striding confidently across the handful of steps from the lift to the command chair was the Vanguard's new Second Officer, Lt. Commander Jordan Hoff. Fairly short for a male officer, Hoff was barely if at all taller than Kawakami herself. His roundish face was nondescript, under a wild mop of sandy hair that was barely regulation. His green eyes, however, were piercing and knowing. He wasn't smiling - in fact, Kawakami could never remember seeing Hoff smile.

"I stand relieved, Mr. Hoff. Any butterflies before your first official shift with the conn?" Kawakami replied when Hoff came to a stop a step away from her.

Hoff's mouth cocked into a strange expression. "Not at all, Captain. I've been thinking about this day for a long time." Kawakami noted that Hoff was unconsciously shifting his weight from foot to foot, as if impatient to take the center seat.

"I'm not surprised. Commander MacKichan trained you well. I have every confidence that you'll take over her role without a hitch," Kawakami said.

Hoff's eyes darkened at the mention of his predecessor and mentor, but his expression didn't change. "Of course, Captain. I am confident that I will fulfill your expectations," Hoff replied.

"Of course you will, Mr. Hoff," Kawakami concluded, as she rose smoothly from the command chair. "The conn is yours." And with a firm nod at the man, Kawakami walked past him and proceeded to the turbolift. When the door whooshed open, Kawakami stepped in, hit the button for the level her quarters were on, and turned as if to survey the bridge one final time.

The bridge vanished from Kawakami's sight as the doors whooshed closed.

...

As the door to the corridor closed behind her, Captain Kawakami was already removing her uniform jacket in order to toss it across her darkened cabin to drape across the back of the more comfortable of the room's two chairs. This action left her torso dressed in just her stretchy, clingy regulation bra.

Kawakami's body temperature was slightly abnormal, and in full uniform she regularly felt uncomfortably hot in public areas of the ship. She had consulted Dr. O'Sullivan, but metabolic regulators were still a black art even for 24th century medicine. However, the Doctor was also quite a rules lawyer in her own right, and had informed the delighted Captain that the standard pullover worn under the regulation uniform jacket was not strictly mandatory. So by her own discretion as Captain, Kawakami had declared that Uniform Of The Day did not require a pullover, and ever since then Kawakami had been more comfortable on the bridge.

Soon Kawakami's uniform kilt followed her jacket, leaving her curvy body bare above the ankles but for tight black underwear hugging her flaring hips and full yet shapely bust. Stopping just outside the alcove where her bed was screened by a low privacy wall, Kawakami closed her eyes and took a few deep, calming breaths, letting the stresses of the day slip from her mind.

After a minute or so, Kawakami shook her head to clear it, tossing her shoulder-length raven hair. She then kicked off her boots, and with practiced, economical gestures returned the bra and panties to the discreet laundry hamper tucked away in the sleeping nook.

As Kawakami stood, she saw her tempting ivory-skinned body in the wall-mounted mirror, totally naked. Unbidden, her hands raised to the top slopes of her generous breasts, almost caressingly.

"Young at heart..." Kawakami mused. Then she turned and stepped past the small bedchamber into the even tinier shower.

Most civilians in the Terran Colonies would have been surprised that the shower was a plain, functional hot/cold running water model, not some high-tech sonic or plasma gizmo. But as the Chief Engineer had reminded his Captain, a starship is a factory for converting waste and water to oxygen and food, which the crew then uses to produce more waste and water. So, within reason, a starship - a closed system - has no need to conserve water, and small luxuries like water showers are allowed.

Which Kawakami was taking advantage of right now, as she stepped inside. She turned the temperature selector to "Very Warm," picked up a tube of soap, and draped a tiny white cloth over the handle. Ducking into the stream, she raised her face fully into the spray.

When she pulled back a half step, Kawakami felt a small thrill of pleasure as the hot water hit her full breasts and her nipples obediently sprang to puffy life. She hadn't realized her boobs would be so sensitized. But then, it had been a while since she had been with a man, so she was on edge.

As Captain, she obviously couldn't sleep with a crew member. It would be difficult to maintain a commander's distance with someone who had seen you raising your ass in the air and begging for a good screwing. Not to mention that all the other senior officers - at least until today - were also female.

Refocusing her mind on the reason she was there, Kawakami dripped soap along her collarbone and rubbed it in to create a thin lather over her neck and shoulders. Then, turning away from the spray, a larger drizzle over her upstanding breasts and trim belly to be rubbed all over and into her smooth ivory flesh.

Then Kawakami took the washcloth from the handle and repeated the action with each toned leg, bending double to run the cloth down each firm thigh and sleek calf in turn.

Standing again to face the spray, Kawakami ran the soft cloth over one sensual breast, only for the stiff nipple to respond again with a throb of passion. She repeated the action with the other breast, only for that sensitive nub to react even more fiercely.

Continuing downward, more carefully, Kawakami ran the fine washcloth down and over her flat belly, then into her pubic hair, soaked to midnight-black from the water sheeting down her torso. With her vulva and clitoris starting to become sensitive, Kawakami used the cloth very gingerly, almost tentatively, between her thighs. Being careful not to set off any untimely fireworks. It was still quite pleasurable, however, and it took an effort of will not to give in to temptation and rub her stiff clitoris until her legs gave out.

Not yet.

So, with a regretful sigh, Kawakami rinsed the washcloth thoroughly and used it and the spray to give a final rinse to her sensitized flesh - breasts, tummy, butt, and thighs. The hot, running water was still working magic on her sweetly swelling labia as it sheeted down her lush body.

Switching the shower from hot water to hot air, Kawakami was not surprised when the torrid drying wind had nearly as much effect on her sensitive erogenous zones as her hands and the humid spray had.

Soon dry - at least on the outside - Kawakami left the shower cube and found herself back in her sleeping cubby, once again looking directly at her own bare body in her dressing mirror.

The woman Kawakami saw in the mirror was transformed from the proper, professional Captain who had entered the cabin. This woman was pure sex. Eyes burning, deep breaths causing her heavy breasts to jiggle, puffy pink nipples thrusting into the cooler air of the cabin, flushed skin over cheeks and collarbone, flat belly fluttering, and curvy hips quivering with need.

"Young at heart," Kawakami breathed.

Kawakami raised trembling hands to the ivory column of her throat, and brushed her fingertips down to the upper slopes of her generous breasts. Then further down the sensitive flesh to her tight areolae and proud, dusky pink nipples. The mere contact sent a thrill straight down Kawakami's spine to her moistening pussy.

She'd been without a man for too long. From long experience, Kawakami knew what she needed right now.

Kawakami climbed onto her narrow bed, and retrieved her "tension reliever" from its accustomed cubbyhole in her bedstand. The large sex toy was a slightly darker shade of ivory than Kawakami's skin. It had been 3d-printed using one of the polymers originally developed by the Fleet for tubing in the engineering accessways, and the smooth surface was soft but not at all sticky, and was low-friction even with minimal lubrication.

When there was no man available, this was the next best thing.

Eagerly, Kawakami reached down between her spread thighs and ran the tip of the toy up and down through the slit between her swollen lower lips. Lube wasn't going to be a problem - she was already dripping with moisture. The bulbous head slipped in easily. Sighing with pleasure, Kawakami savored the sensation as she slid it in further.

As Kawakami worked the tool inside, through long practice she quickly found the sensitive node of her G-spot, sending shivers through her whole lower body. She sank the tip a couple inches deeper and as her inner muscles squeezed the welcome invader.

The mounting pleasure caused her mind to drift.

Kawakami's mind went back to memories of herself on the Centaurus Research Station. The previous year, the Vanguard had transported some Earth scientists, along with the Vanguard's own First Officer Sylith, to a conference there. The Chief Scientist there, Dr. Castellano, was a quite dashing native of Earth - of European extraction, tall and graceful.

At the formal reception, he had dexterously used his position to cut Kawakami out of the herd and escort her onto the dance floor. Dr. Castellano's dancing was elegant and graceful, and somehow he had managed to inject a sensual element into even the most formal of regimented dances. Kawakami had been swept off her feet even before the tango that concluded the evening. In Dr. Castellano's debonair style, that last tango had practically been foreplay as he led her through the steps, hands constantly on one part of her body or another.

Kawakami had had no inclination to protest when immediately after the dancing was over, Dr. Castellano had escorted her out of the reception and down the station's corridors to his quarters, one hand on Kawakami's kilted ass.

Five minutes later, Kawakami had found herself sitting on the edge of Dr. Castellano's bed, wearing only stockings. The tall doctor had been equally naked, standing before her, the tip of his large, veiny erection pointed dangerously up toward Kawakami's face. Completely seduced, Kawakami hadn't hesitated before kissing her way up and down the firm shaft, then taking the swollen tip into her mouth.

Kawakami had been dripping with arousal by the time Castellano had pushed her back onto the covers before climbing between her splayed thighs to initiate a horizontal kind of dancing.

Reaching up to tweak one large, swollen nipple, Kawakami pushed the sex toy deeper into her slick inner channel.

Kawakami moaned as it stretched out her tight inner muscles. She was so desperately horny right now after so long without a man... There was no pain, but when she pulled the toy back in order to thrust it powerfully in again, the sensation of being deeply penetrated was shiveringly intense.

The familiar sex toy wasn't quite the same as the real thing, but it was doing the job.

Kawakami lay fully back on her bunk, spreading her toned thighs even further. As she set up a rhythm of quick, shallow thrusts, Kawakami couldn't help letting out a soft cry of pleasure. She began to squirm, wriggling from side to side, as the big shaft worked its magic up and down the sensitive front wall of her pussy. Thick inner moisture coated it from base to tip, and was even beginning to leak out to drip onto the bedcovers.

As the pleasure grew, Kawakami's mind drifted again.

It was dark, and hot, and Kawakami could feel sand on her bare back. This was the asteroid cave where she had seduced an enemy Captain. She looked up as she had months before - and there he was, looming over her. Green skin, pupilless eyes and face a blend of human and reptile. Clawed green fingers had been already reaching for her bare, hanging breasts.

The rough skin of the alien's palms had brushed Kawakami's large, sensitive nipples as he groped and squeezed, all of it sending thrills shooting through her. Kneading fingers had squeezed, so firmly as to be almost rough, sinking deep into her jiggling titflesh. Like many large-breasted women, Kawakami's boobs had always been special erogenous zones, and the reptile man's groping had quite effectively turned her on.

He had then turned his attention to her nipples, which by then had been standing hard and stiff, nearly the size of a man's fingertip in her arousal. But soon the alien had tired of the boob-play and stripped Kawakami of her uniform kilt and panties.

Because this had been part of Kawakami's plan, she had forced herself to watch in simulated reluctance as he stripped off his own uniform trousers to reveal an enormous, snaky green erection.

Then, as a victor claiming his spoils, the dominant alien had climbed on top of Kawakami and taken her in a single penetrating thrust, even deeper than she had expected from the sight of his toned body.

As if simulating what the alien Captain had done to her, Kawakami pushed the sex toy to its full depth in her sopping channel.

Kawakami resumed a thrusting rhythm, halfway out, then in to the base, then again - steady and inexorable. She could feel her inner muscles clenching around the smooth, slick material. There was no way she could stop now even if she wanted to.

Kawakami raised her knees higher, giving herself a better angle to impale her boiling channel more forcefully. She was frankly panting now, letting out little squeals when the toy brushed over one of her sensitive spots. Her back arched, nipples thrusting toward the ceiling, but her hands never stopped their beavering rhythm.

Kawakami's thighs were quivering and her lower body was wriggling, unable to keep still as pleasure shot through her.

The sensations the rough thrusts were causing deep in Kawakami's burning pussy caused her fevered brain to drift again to the past.

The reptile man had roughly pounded her, pinning her to his bedroll as his enormous cock plundered her innermost depths. His enthusiasm and endowment had combined to stretch and pleasure Kawakami's pussy as he nailed her powerfully. The climax that Kawakami's dominant rival had wrung out of her had been as mind-melting as it had been unexpected.

Dr. Castellano had been less domineering but more skilled, his imposing shaft masterfully finding every sensitive nerve ending inside Kawakami's humid channel. He had raked his spongy cockhead over spots all along the front wall of her pussy even as she looked wonderingly back over her shoulder to meet his intense gaze. And all the while she had felt his surgeon's hands possessively fondling her ass and flanks.

One hand frantically gripped a jiggling breast as the other tormented Kawakami's erogenous zones with the unrelenting toy.

Kawakami squealed and pushed her twitching hips against her beavering hand as the knot of heat in her pussy burst. The orgasm that had been slowly building for minutes suddenly washed over her. Kawakami writhed helplessly on her bunk as waves of pleasure overcame her.

Kawakami kept the artificial shaft deep inside her convulsing pussy even as her thighs shook in ecstasy on both sides of it. After this long a dry spell, one climax wouldn't be enough. She needed more. So even though an occasional tremor rippled through her, as soon as she could control the device, Kawakami began to pump herself some more.

Unlike most of her male lovers, Kawakami knew exactly where her most responsive spots were, and she angled the sex toy to stimulate all of them, even as she stretched her channel with deep, powerful thrusts. Kawakami was moaning constantly now, mouth slackly open. The pleasurable sensations, which had leveled off after her first climax, were building towards another explosion.

Her deep-vaginal trigger spot was hard to reach with a toy, so Kawakami focused on firmly massaging her front wall and G-spot as if the polymer shaft was a long, girthy finger. Each firm, raking stroke drew a plaintive whimper of arousal.

Trembling with excitement, back arching, Kawakami plundered her sensitive vagina relentlessly. Hard and fast. Obscene liquid squelching noises filled her ears. Then she was shuddering and squirming as pleasure overwhelmed her in a burst of heat. A high-pitched cry of ecstasy escaped her. Convulsions shook her core - three, four, five times. Juices squirted to soak her clutching fingers.

Finally the wave receded, and Kawakami sank back to the covers, drained as if she had run a race. Nerveless fingers replaced the tool in its bedside place, even as her ecstasy began to fade into drowsy contentment.

A faint smile still on her face, Kawakami sighed gently as she faded into sleep.

...

Some hours later, Sylith had awakened early in order to do some light exercises before her shift on the mat she kept in her cabin. Unfortunately, just as she was about to flow from Scorpion into a full handstand, the intercom whistled.

"Commander Sylith, this is Hoff," came a modulated voice from the speaker. It was the clipped, patrician tones of Commander Hoff, who was holding down the conn this shift. "Sorry to wake you, ma'am, but we have a new detection on our sensors you should see. Can you come to the bridge a little early?"

"Very well, Commander," Sylith sighed. "Balakrishnan is at the science station, correct? Have her run a full-spectrum scan and I'll consult with her when I get there."

"Much appreciated, Commander," came the reply. "Hoff out."

Eight minutes later, a winded Sylith emerged onto the bridge from the turbolift, still fastening her uniform jacket. Within seconds, she was leaning over the science station, deep in conversation with Lt. Balakrishnan.

The two female officers were in some ways strikingly similar in appearance, both tall and very slender, with dark skin. The first contrast that most people would notice was their hair - Sylith's short, platinum helmet versus Susanna Balakrishnan's long, straight, midnight-black, just barely regulation waterfall. The second contrast was that while Sylith's figure was boyish and almost androgynous, the younger Lieutenant's bustline was prodigious - for sheer size, the largest on the entire ship.

Balakrishnan was all business and had run the scans extremely professionally. But neither she nor the more experienced Sylith could get any real information out of them.

The Vanguard had encountered an anomaly.

Sylith called Hoff over to the Science station, and the two female officers briefly summarized the situation.

"We need to get closer, sir," Balakrishnan said to Hoff in conclusion. "The sensors just don't have the strength to resolve the anomaly. All we can detect is those timelike waves, but that doesn't make any sense from here."

"But we can't risk taking the ship that close," Sylith piled on. "We have no idea what we're up against."

Hoff thought for only a second. "I'm going out there," he said decisively. "I'll take a shuttle with minimal crew. The shuttles don't have the sensor capacity of the Vanguard but if I can fly right up to it, I should be able to feed the raw data back for you to process up here."

"That's... Very risky, Commander," Sylith stated.

"I'm in command right now, Commander," Hoff reminded her.

"True, but I'm First Officer and your actual superior," Sylith countered.

"This is what's best for the ship," Hoff replied simply.

Sylith had no answer to that. The Vanguard's duty was to investigate the anomaly.

Hoff smiled grimly at that, then turned to call out in the direction of the helm console.

"Lewis, Simmons, with me. We'll pick up an engineer on the way to the shuttle deck." And he strode to the lift doors, not waiting to see if the Helm and Weapons officers followed.

"You're in command, Commander Sylith," came from the lift as the doors closed.

...

By the time Hoff's shuttlecraft left the Vanguard, Sylith was glued to the center seat and had called Lt. Adongo and Lt. Marrow to take over the abandoned control console. Lt. Balakrishnan's attention was focused on her instruments, as she lit up both the anomaly and shuttle with active sensors.

As the shuttle began to gingerly approach the anomaly, Hoff skillfully set up a tight-beam relay feeding the shuttle's sensor readings back to the Vanguard. He opened a voice channel - "Are you getting this, Vanguard?"

At Balakrishnan's vehement nod, Sylith responded "We're getting it, Commander."

"Very good," Hoff absently replied before directing his attention to the crew of the shuttle. "Keep us right here, Lieutenant. No need to tempt fate."

Minutes ticked by. The crew of the shuttle were fixated on their instruments, and Lt. Balakrishnan was occupied with the flood of data. Suddenly she shouted to Sylith. "Commander! I'm reading gravitic activity from the anomaly!"

Before Sylith or Hoff could respond, the shuttle was rocked by a gravitic wave. Lt. Lewis and Lt. Simmons were hurled from their stations but Hoff sat in the command position like a rock. "We're moving!" Hoff shouted, leaping to the pilot's seat.

Sylith could see that Hoff was right, the shuttle was now visibly being pulled towards the anomaly.

"I'm getting us out of here!" Hoff snarled, slamming the shuttle's engines to full reverse. The noise from the engines ramped up to the point of pain, but they were fighting gravity itself, and the shuttle continued to be sucked toward the anomaly.

Hoff, a trained helmsman in his own right, hurled the shuttle around with maneuvering thrusters and slammed the engines to full forward. With no visible effect. The shuttle was still being dragged in, just facing away from the anomaly this time.

Hoff's professional bearing cracked. "Dammit! Let us go, you bastards!" he yelled, changing chairs to the other console, the one that controlled not just the sensors but the tiny turreted laser on the shuttle's roof. Slamming the buttons home, Hoff began to fire full strength beams around the border of the anomaly.

But even that didn't get the anomaly's attention. The distance continued to close.

"Vanguard! Don't come any closer!" Hoff shouted. "I'm going to keep sensors on this bastard until the very last second. Don't let this go to waste."

The Vanguard bridge crew watched helplessly as the shuttle disappeared into the anomaly. When the shuttle's sensor broadcast was cut off, silence fell across the bridge.

...

Eighteen minutes later, Captain Kawakami, rubbing her eyes, entered the bridge.

In the time since Sylith had awakened the Captain, nothing significant had changed. Sylith and Balakrishnan were still analyzing the data the shuttle had managed to send. But the anomaly itself was quiet.

Crossing to the central chair where Kawakami was now seated, Sylith brought the Captain up to speed with a few clipped sentences and an executive summary of the data that Lt. Balakrishnan displayed on the main viewscreen. Kawakami accepted the conn from Sylith to allow the Thalassian, who had been one of the Fleet's best science officers before moving to the command track, to focus on the incoming data and on the anomaly itself.

The bridge was tense but eerily quiet as the bridge crew did their jobs, knowing that any minute the situation could change dramatically. The only sounds were from the instruments themselves and the hushed conversation among the Science officers.

Minute dragged after minute, every crew member keeping one eye on their panel and one eye on the anomaly. Like treacle, the better part of an hour passed in tense near-silence.

Suddenly, the anomaly on the main viewscreen began to roil and shimmer with distortion. A blocky object appeared, ejected from the anomaly at high speed. On second glance, it was clearly not in good shape - trailing debris and atmosphere. The object had no power signature and was consequently tumbling erratically.

"Contact, Captain!" Sylith shouted from the Science station. "It's... our shuttlecraft! Life signs... weak. Maybe one survivor!"

"Mr. Adongo! Best course to intercept the shuttle - half power. I don't care how close you get to that thing - we're getting our people back!" Kawakami barked.

"Yes, Captain!" replied Adongo in his deep, Oxonian-accented voice.

"Mr. Marrow - ready tractor beams. Grab that shuttle as soon as we're in range."

"Aye, ma'am," Marrow acknowledged.

Nothing followed the shuttlecraft out of the anomaly. Its surface, though disturbed like a rippling pond, seemed to again be intact. Vanguard was able to capture the shuttlecraft in its tractor beam en passant.

"Now get us out of here, Mr. Adongo - set course to one one five by sixty-three, full military power away from that thing! Mr. Marrow - full shields as soon as we've hauled the shuttle in!"

Ten seconds passed as the purring of the engines, normally so quiet they were almost subliminal, rose to a roar. An intense silence descended on the bridge crew, everyone seemingly waiting tensely for one thing. Then it came.

"Captain, Engineer Williams here - we've got the shuttle and shut the door behind 'em"

"Very good, Mr. Williams. I'll be there soon," and she flicked the comm channel switch. "Security to shuttle bay STAT, full sidearms! No one goes in or out of that shuttle!"

Kawakami vaulted out of the command chair. "Sylith, you have the conn." And she strode into the turbolift.

...

Surprising the harried Captain, Doctor O'Sullivan met Kawakami in the corridor outside the shuttle bay. Looking no worse for being awakened, O'Sullivan had a crash kit tucked under her arm.

"Doctor?" Kawakami asked, clearly surprised to see her there. "Do you read minds?"

"Just my job description," O'Sullivan answered serenely. "I heard over the intercom that there were survivors but their life signs weren't great, so I figured this was a good place for a doctor."

"You're certainly welcome here, Doctor," Kawakami agreed. She then directed two security men, pistols drawn, to precede the officers into the shuttle bay.

As the party approached the shuttle - which was scratched and pitted, and tilted due to one landing outrigger being completely torn off - the hatch opened with a whoosh. Then the door fell off, hitting the floor of the shuttle bay with a loud metallic clang. Following it down was Commander Hoff, who staggered down onto the deck, shaky and pale.

Kawakami caught the stumbling Hoff by the arm, and motioned for the security officers to lower their weapons.

O'Sullivan stepped in for a quick medical scan. "No obvious external damage, Captain. No broken bones, no major contusions, no concussion, no obvious burns. Signs of severe exhaustion and dehydration. Elevated heart rate. Some weird nerve activity and... muscle spasms. Energy signature is also strange."

"Conclusion, Doctor?" Kawakami asked.

O'Sullivan sighed. "According to this thing, he's not about to die on us, if that's what you're asking," as she put the scanner back in her bag in order to begin loading her injector with painkillers and vitamins.

"Something like that, Doctor," Kawakami agreed. "If he's not in immediate danger, I think we need to find out what the hell was in that thing. Take him with you to my briefing room. I'll meet you there with someone from Science."

...

Kawakami was seated at the head of the oblong briefing table. On her right side sat Doctor O'Sullivan and Lt. Balakrishnan. Opposite them, head in hands, was Commander Hoff.

"They pulled us in too easily, Captain. It must have been a spaceship trap all along. Our engines, our weapons, were nothing to them," Hoff said bluntly, without looking up.

"They took you prisoner?" Kawakami asked.

Hoff turned his head toward the Captain and snorted. "If you could call it that, ma'am. I don't know if it was a ship or a station or a planet we ended up on. It was all distorted - weird light spectrum and the sensors were useless. Our pistols didn't even fire when they took us off the shuttle."

"What then?"

Hoff shook his head sadly. "What do you think? They did science on us, Captain. First Simmons, then Alves, then Lewis. He was the youngest, so he took the longest to die. They must have known I was the leader since they left me for last."

When Hoff's story trailed off, Kawakami waited. After a few seconds she quietly prompted "Go on."

"Time... was strange there. It seemed like weeks. Day after day of experiments. Then back in that dark cell. I have no idea how long it was. Nothing to eat or drink. No human food. When they came for me, I thought it was my time too."

Hoff chuckled mirthlessly. "But they let me go. They put me back on the shuttle and suddenly I was on my way back to our universe."

"They never talked to you? Tried to communicate?" O'Sullivan asked.

"We were animals to them. Cavemen. Too primitive," Hoff growled. "I assume I was sent back as warning, so that we unevolved humans don't get above our station."

"Get some rest, Commander, you've earned it," Kawakami said. "You're off shift until you recover. Sylith and I will cover your watches."

"And if anything comes up you need to tell me about, don't hesitate," O'Sullivan interjected. "You seem fine, and your condition matches your story. But I'd like to do a full scan anyway."

"If I have anything for you, Doctor, I'll tell you," Hoff said tiredly.

"Dismissed," Kawakami said, and sat back, reflecting, as the others filed out.

...

As the door whooshed closed behind the others, Kawakami realized she had another duty.

While she and the Doctor had been attending to Hoff, Sylith had been holding down the bridge, long after her shift should have ended. Kawakami hurried through the corridors and up the lift to relieve the tiring half-Thalassian.

From experience, Kawakami gave Sylith an additional reminder to see to her blood sugar, as her hybrid biology tended to have unusual reactions to stress.

With a tired nod of agreement, Sylith left the bridge and prompted the lift to go to Deck Seven, where the ship's cafeteria was. Standard Fleet food packs weren't ideal for Thalassian nutritional needs or tastes, but Sylith had worked with the food preparation team to produce something more palatable.

As Sylith picked up her plate of faux-Senja stew, she scanned the cafeteria's dining area.

In the corner, back to the wall, was Hoff, looking - surprisingly - none the worse for wear after his ordeal. He was holding forth to his tablemates, all of whom were junior crew members. They were hanging on his every word.

This struck Sylith as strange - although she was not native to human culture, and was somewhat awkward socially, Sylith had never seen any indication that Hoff was this kind of character. He had always seemed somewhat standoffish and superior-seeming, but right now he gave every appearance of being a popular raconteur.

And it was just a few hours since he'd escaped his ordeal inside the Anomaly.

Though tired after her long shift, Sylith picked at her Senja and nursed a glass of Earth limeade.

Hoff, however, seemed tireless. The whole time Sylith was watching, he continued to enthusiastically hold court, holding the attention of all the crew members around him. From time to time, one would get up and leave, seemingly immediately replaced by another. Uniformly, though, the crew members leaving the cafeteria were all seemingly deep in thought.

When Sylith finally left to get some much-needed sleep back in her cabin, she also was caught up in thought.

...

The remainder of Kawakami's shift was, thankfully, uneventful. A few minutes after resuming command, she had returned the Vanguard to cruising speed and stood the crew down from alert. The ensuing hours of normalcy had allowed the bridge crew to relax into the familiar patterns of their duties.

Kawakami herself couldn't relax, though. Although she hadn't been on the bridge at the time the shuttle was lost, she was still the Captain of the Vanguard, and felt responsibility for everything that happened. Losing crew members was always painful, particularly in such an empty, meaningless way.

Kawakami knew that she would need more than just meditation to settle her mind. As her shift ended, she decided to first proceed to the gym for a workout to tire her body out. Then she'd hit up sickbay for some meta-5-melatonin.

Deep in thought, Kawakami proceeded through the corridors towards the gym on the lower decks. As she walked, she couldn't help hearing snatches of conversation from the crew members she passed. Strangely, the topic of conversation was uniformly Commander Hoff. In the short few hours since his return, Hoff had seemingly captured everybody's interest.

The same was true in the gym itself.

As Kawakami changed, the handful of others packed into the cramped women's dressing room seemed smitten with the "dashing" Hoff and were comparing him favorably to even their crewmates with the biggest reputations as ladies' men.

While Kawakami worked her way from station to station, the men competing against each other on the treadmills were not only flippantly insulting each other, they were uniformly impressed by how Hoff had seemingly shown off while working out earlier.

Finishing up, Kawakami asked Lt. Tanzer, the recreation officer, to spot her on the bench. As she worked, Kawakami asked Tanzer about Hoff.

"Well, that's interesting, Captain," the flamboyantly mustachioed recreation officer said. "He seems to have been doing a lot of working out on his own. I always thought he was a little soft, but he went through an advanced routine without really breaking a sweat. And he was cracking jokes the whole time. Didn't think he had it in him."

Although she was now dripping sweat, Kawakami didn't shower in the dressing room. She just fetched her uniform and walked back to her cabin, still in her workout clothes. Her thoughts were circling intensely as she walked, but Kawakami wasn't thinking at all about the crewmen who had been lost.

...

The sickbay comm chimed. Doctor O'Sullivan walked over to the wall-mounted device and flicked the button. "Medical," she answered.

"Hoff here, Doctor," came a masculine voice through the speaker. "Please come to my quarters? There's something I'd like you to see. It concerns my mental and physical state following my landing mission." O'Sullivan noticed that Hoff's speaking cadence was unusual, slightly breathy and punctuated with odd pauses.

"Does this relate to why you believed a medical exam was unnecessary?" the doctor queried.

"All will be made clear, Doctor," Hoff stated confidently. "In fact, I formally request you come." The latter sentence was emphasized strangely, and O'Sullivan was momentarily distracted considering it.

Almost without volition, O'Sullivan found herself traversing the corridors between the Medical Bay and Hoff's quarters in Officer Country. As she approached the door and her hand rose toward the intercom, the door whooshed open on its own.

The room inside was lit only by a single lamp, and was dim compared to the relatively brightly lit corridor. Doctor O'Sullivan entered, still somewhat bemused.

Inside, a figure near the center of the room, facing the door, was seemingly the focus of the room's lighting. It was Hoff, standing arrogantly, feet apart, sandy hair ruffled. To O'Sullivan's trained medical eye, he seemed somehow... taller... than she expected.

Hoff's uniform jacket was thrown over the tall back of the room's desk chair, leaving him dressed in the tight-fitting cream uniform turtleneck. And only the turtleneck, O'Sullivan noted as her eyes trailed downward. Hoff's trousers had also been thrown aside, and his sturdy hips and muscular legs were bare.

Surprisingly muscular legs. O'Sullivan had given Hoff his last physical herself, and he hadn't been remotely that buff.

Kneeling in front of Hoff was First Officer Sylith, her lanky, coral-skinned frame completely naked. Her head was gently bobbing back and forth. One of Hoff's hands was gently stroking Sylith's helmet of platinum hair. The second-in-command of the Vanguard was performing oral sex right in front of her!

As the door hissed shut behind O'Sullivan, Hoff looked up from the superior officer who was servicing him. "Welcome, Doctor," Hoff said with a sardonic grin. "It seems the Commander here is turned on by subservience. Guess that's why she never put in for a command of her own. Don't you like it, dear?" The last was directed downward.

"Mmmm-hmmmm," came a muffled affirmation from Hoff's groin.

O'Sullivan was simultaneously fascinated and repelled by the erotic sight. She wanted to storm right out of this place! But the vignette was strangely compelling. And there was something else...

Hoff looked back at O'Sullivan, his eyes boring into hers. "Ah, you're feeling it too, aren't you, Doctor? What lovely Sylith here discovered first?"

"What is that?" O'Sullivan asked. It came out weaker than she intended.

In a single movement, surprisingly quick and fierce, Hoff removed his uniform sweater, leaving him as bare as Sylith. "The next stage of human evolution," Hoff said simply.

Startled out of a somewhat dreamlike state, Doctor O'Sullivan gasped. Hoff was not just taller. He was... perfect. His frame was still stocky, but his musculature was now perfectly defined. Not like a bodybuilder or commando, but like a Greek statue.

The Vanguard's new Second Officer had become the embodiment of masculinity. Far more virile and ripped than he had been at his last physical. More than he had been before he entered the anomaly.

O'Sullivan felt herself falling into an abstracted state as she contemplated the flexible strength of Hoff's upper body. The bulge of his powerful forearms. The sinuous flexing of Hoff's defined abdominals as he responded to the continued pleasuring being lovingly given by Sylith. O'Sullivan couldn't bring herself to look away.

"Looks like someone else has discovered a weakness for servitude," Hoff said, almost gloating. "Come here to me, my darling Doctor. Behold your new Commander." Hoff's hand had returned to Sylith's bobbing head, again gently urging her on. Though by the enthusiastic slobbering noises coming from the kneeling First Officer's mouth, Sylith needed little encouragement.

Robotically, O'Sullivan slowly crossed the few paces to Hoff's side.

Hoff was surrounded by a pervasive aura of masculinity that drew O'Sullivan in. The new shape of his sturdy frame. The power and authority in his posture. Even the smell of him. Was it pheromones? Was this what "next stage of evolution" meant?

As her eyes were drawn down Hoff's new, more masculine frame to his groin, the Doctor gasped quietly at what she saw there. As Hoff's doctor, O'Sullivan knew that his penis was, well, as average as the rest of him. Or it had been.

The new, improved organ disappearing into the kneeling Sylith's mouth was, in a word, impressive. Substantial and savagely ruddy, Hoff's erection jutted from the trimmed lawn of his pubes like a truncheon. Sylith's elvish hand was long-fingered but those slender digits still struggled to encircle the thick root.

And though the enthusiastic Sylith was taking as much into her mouth as she could, when she was on the outstroke and her lips were wrapped only around the head, barely half the length of the shaft gleamed with Sylith's saliva.

Fascinated, O'Sullivan looked even further down. Past the magnificent cock and the platinum-haired head that was servicing it.

Sylith's small breasts were firm and didn't jiggle with the movement of her head, but the proudly erect nipples capping them advertised to all observers that the First Officer was tremendously aroused. And the hand that wasn't wrapped around Hoff's erection was between Sylith's gangly, splayed coral thighs, clearly working away at briskly caressing the fair, sparse silverish-white fur of her mound and pleasuring her undoubtedly excited clitoris.

Hoff spoke again, bringing O'Sullivan's eyes snapping back up to his face. "Who knew our dear Number One was a such a natural at oral? I guess it takes a talented tongue to give so many orders. Yeah, that's it... Use your tongue more, darling."

Without hesitation, Sylith popped the angry purple head of Hoff's erection out from between her lips. "Yes, sir!" Sylith acquiesced eagerly and began licking the firm shaft instead of sucking, nimble tongue darting from base to tip. Down between Sylith's spread legs, her slender fingers had never stopped pleasuring herself.

"Mmm, that's good, honey," Hoff directed at Sylith, before looking again at O'Sullivan.

"Thalassians are famously psy-blind, right, Doctor? I guess that's why she was the first to hear the call. Took you a bit longer, but good things come to those who wait."

Hoff reached down with his free hand to flick one of Sylith's stiff nipples, then the other - drawing a pair of appreciative sighs from the worshipful Commander. Who responded by aggressively spreading her lips over the swollen head of Hoff's cock, then sliding them halfway down the girthy shaft, as far as Sylith could comfortably go. Sylith's wide open eyes looked up worshipfully at Hoff, shining with lust.

O'Sullivan looked on in bemusement as Sylith erotically attacked Hoff's organ, platinum-haired head bobbing back and forth, generating obscene wet sucking noises. Hoff's hand had returned to rest on the top of Sylith's moving head. Soft moans were coming from both of them.

Suddenly Hoff pushed Sylith's head away, her mouth popping off his cock with a surprisingly loud, wet smacking noise.

O'Sullivan watched in fascination as Hoff's thick, ruddy erection pulsed and bobbed angrily up and down on its own. The movement was accompanied by an anguished groan. Hoff's hands balled into fists and his teeth clenched. Hoff's newly ripped pectorals and abdominals flexed for a few seconds. His whole body trembled violently.

And then he was still.

A triumphant smile crossed Hoff's face. He looked fondly down at the startled Sylith, then turned his gaze to O'Sullivan. He gently slapped his still steel-hard cock. "Got out just in time," Hoff said with a cocky grin. "She's surprisingly good with her mouth. Almost got me to come too soon. But I have a better idea. Doctor."

Hoff stepped over to O'Sullivan. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he gestured towards the cabin's bedchamber with the other. "Doctor, please step into my office. It's time for me to examine you."

Hoff looked back at Sylith, who was still kneeling on the floor. "Keep playing with yourself, darling. After you've come at least once more, you can come in and watch." With that permission given, Sylith's coral fingers began working circles around her clitoris again.

Then Hoff, using the hand still resting on O'Sullivan's shoulder, steered the surprisingly unresisting doctor towards the bedchamber. Once inside, Hoff spoke. "Computer, raise the bed to a height of one meter. Doctor O'Sullivan... I've been anticipating about this moment for years... Please remove your clothing."

O'Sullivan paused. The request was ludicrous. The situation was ludicrous. But when she looked down, her fingers were already undoing the sliding fastener at the shoulder of her uniform tunic, as if they were acting on their own accord. Before O'Sullivan even realized it, she was carefully folding the burgundy tunic and laying it over the back of the room's computer chair.

O'Sullivan looked over at Hoff. "Why did I just do that?" she asked.

Hoff raised one eyebrow. "Because it was the right thing to do. You've seen the light. You just took a little longer than Sylith." Hoff grinned. "Please continue. I've been waiting to see what you've been hiding from us all these months."

Before she could even consciously command her body to obey, O'Sullivan found herself grasping the hem of her cream-colored turtleneck uniform undershirt. With a complicated shimmy, she removed it in a single fluid motion. And then laid the discarded sweater on top of the folded tunic over the back of the chair.

Without further prompting from Hoff, O'Sullivan's uniform kilt followed, leaving her in just the standard tight-fitting black activity-rated regulation bra and panties.

"Very nice, doctor," Hoff said, impressed. "I'm impressed. Now up on the examination table and take off the rest."

O'Sullivan looked at Hoff and then at the bed, which was indeed now raised to waist level. And it was perfectly made, the coverlet tucked in even tighter than regulations dictated. It certainly could play the part of a real examination table.

Still unable to truly believe this was really happening, O'Sullivan found herself climbing up to sit on the bed, facing Hoff. Obediently, she undid the front closure of her bra and, shrugging it off, set it aside. Then, leaning back and raising her knees, she slipped the tight-fitting black panties down her smooth, rounded thighs and calves to join the cast-off bra.

O'Sullivan's bare body was now fully revealed. As a non-combatant, O'Sullivan didn't train as extensively as Kawakami or Sylith, so her figure was softer and rounder - less defined and more curved.

O'Sullivan's breasts were neither as large as Kawakami's nor as firm as Sylith's but were still ample. They were conical in shape, side-set and hanging apart, with blush-pink areolae and prominent nipples. Her belly wasn't athletically flat but still respectably trim for her age. Her hips were rounded and classically feminine. The sparse pubic hair on the mound between her lush thighs matched the shoulder-length ginger hair on her head, down to the few gray threads mixed in.

With a low whistle of appreciation, Hoff approached the seated Doctor. Stroking O'Sullivan's creamy inner thigh with cheeky familiarity, Hoff said "I'm going to be thorough in my examination. Just like you, Doctor. Only not as... professional."

Hoff urged O'Sullivan's knees slightly apart, then stepped forward between them, causing her thighs to spread further in response. Hoff smiled, and ran his hands inquisitively up O'Sullivan's flanks to settle on the curve of her hips, as if measuring the femininity of her shape.

"You respond very nicely, Doctor. I'm impressed," Hoff leered down to O'Sullivan. "Let's test your responsiveness further." And with that he cupped his hands under O'Sullivan's temptingly hanging breasts, jiggling and bouncing them as if weighing them.

Then Hoff roughly thumbed O'Sullivan's puffy areolae, circling her large nipples as they began to involuntarily stiffen at the sensation. "Very nice, Doctor," Hoff said softly, "Feminine sexual arousal. And very healthy, too." And he gently tweaked both rubbery nipples until they were fully erect.

O'Sullivan was experienced, both sexually and as an officer of the Fleet. She could tell where this was going. She also knew - intellectually - that she shouldn't just be sitting here letting the weirdly altered Hoff play with her boobs.

But O'Sullivan's mind was still filled with the same lassitude that had caused her to allow Hoff to lead her in here. And she could feel warm pleasure spreading through her breasts - and jolts of pleasure from her firm nipples were echoing down into her as yet untouched pussy. Pleasure that was taking her over.

As if Hoff knew what O'Sullivan was thinking, he grasped her breasts in both hands and squeezed firmly, her stiff nipples pressing firmly against his palms. As if flaunting how unprofessional the "examination" was, Hoff brazenly massaged O'Sullivan's sensitive boobs, barely pretending to be doing anything other than causing erotic sensations to shoot through her whole body.

Watching O'Sullivan wriggle as he continued to grope her, Hoff grinned. "You're getting quite excited, aren't you, Doctor. I didn't expect an uptight bitch like you to be this easy... Maybe I should check for other kinds of sexual response, hmm?"

Hoff lowered his hands to rest on O'Sullivan's restive thighs. "We don't need stirrups today, do we, Doctor? I expect you don't need help to get your legs open, do you, Doc?"

O'Sullivan flushed, from embarrassment as well as just arousal this time. Her head was full - of not just a sexual fog but the weird sense that Hoff was inside her head and could see just what to say and do to get the response he wanted out of her.

Unprompted, O'Sullivan spread her knees wider than her shoulders. She knew that her aroused pussy was fully on display for the leering Hoff's lustful gaze.

"I'm just going to check for wetness now, Doctor," Hoff said, almost gleefully, as he reached toward's O'Sullivan's carefully trimmed muff, and traced inquisitive fingertips up and down her slit, before slipping between her fleshy outer lips to caress her entrance.

O'Sullivan knew what he was going to find there. She had always gotten very wet very quickly when aroused. And for some reason Hoff's aggressive fondling and confident banter had her on toast right now. He was fully in control of the situation, and somehow that turned her on even more.

So O'Sullivan wasn't surprised when Hoff raised his hand to her eye level and his first two fingers were practically coated with shiny sex oils. "Very nice, Doctor - very nice indeed," Hoff gloated.

"Oh, my," came a quiet, breathy female voice from the doorway.

Both Hoff and O'Sullivan turned their heads to look. Tall, slender Sylith, still unashamedly naked, stood there, staring in fascination at the brazenly sexual "examination."

The normally reserved First Officer had a sex-drugged smile on her face, her bare coral skin from her breasts on up was flushed three shades darker than normal, and her inner thighs glistened just like Hoff's fingers. Sylith's left hand was absently rubbing little circles on her belly as if she was afraid of setting herself off again if she touched her lightly-furred mound.

O'Sullivan was shocked at Sylith's transformation into a brazen sex kitten. So much so that O'Sullivan forgot to keep an eye on the man between her legs. So O'Sullivan was taken by surprise when Hoff's searching fingers impudently returned to her unprotected pussy. A jolt of pleasure was her first warning. O'Sullivan felt her clitoris sneaking back out from its protective sheath to meet Hoff's probing fingers.

Staying one step ahead of O'Sullivan's distracted thoughts, Hoff's slick fingers began to play with her throbbing clit, each stroke causing a thrilling tingle to shoot up her spine. Although O'Sullivan had no leverage in her seated position, she ground her groin against the amazing fingers as hard as she could manage. She felt the blissful sensations intensify.

"Ah, female sexual response," Hoff exulted. And he stopped frigging O'Sullivan's throbbing clit, but only to split her labia with two extended fingers and insert them deep into her slick pussy, making her gasp with pleasure.

Then Hoff, whether through experience, intuition, or mind-reading, began to massage O'Sullivan's clit with his thumb, even while curling his fingers to search for her G-spot. Lewd squelching sounds began to fill the small bedroom, audible even over the sound of O'Sullivan's ragged panting.

Gasping helplessly, O'Sullivan could feel pleasure building deep inside her burning pussy. Her pulsing clit burned at every swipe of Hoff's knowing thumb. Then his searching fingers found her G-spot and began to aggressively massage the magic throbbing button.

That did it. O'Sullivan squealed like a teenage girl as she came, hard. She squeezed her trembling thighs tightly around Hoff's invading hand as she writhed in ecstasy. As Hoff continued to stimulate her burning G-spot, O'Sullivan bucked helplessly, her orgasm going on and on.

Finally, shaking and twitching, O'Sullivan collapsed to fall on her back, legs in the air, Hoff's moving fingers still penetrating her most intimate places. As the spasms faded into aftershocks, O'Sullivan's legs in turn fell nervelessly to dangle over the edge of the makeshift "examination" table.

Dazed with sex and the ongoing dreamlike lethargy, O'Sullivan could only stare blankly at Hoff looming over her. "Very nice, Doctor. I didn't think you had it in you! I think you're ready for the main event," he leered down at her.

Shocked into action, O'Sullivan raised her head to look - really look - at Hoff. His penis, still much larger than she remembered, was once again fully hard and stiff and pointing upward. Hoff clearly had more plans for her. In her distracted state, O'Sullivan realized that she would readily agree to do whatever Hoff wanted.

At this point, if Hoff could make her come again, it would be worth it.

Then the little room was filled with the sound of the firm smack of Hoff's open palm on O'Sullivan's curvy flank. "On your feet," the Second Officer growled. "Time for me to finally get what I've been waiting all year for..." Then Hoff took O'Sullivan's shaky hands into his own and lifted her from her backside all the way to a standing position. With an insistent hand on O'Sullivan's supple buttock, he then steered the dazed medical officer to the other side of the bed, so that she was facing the fascinated Sylith, still standing in the doorway.

"Now, Doctor," Hoff opened. Then he took a deep breath, as if savoring the moment, letting it escape slowly into the confused air of the bedroom. "Aaaah. Bend over, Doctor. Bend over and relax. Does that sound familiar, Doctor?"

Startled, O'Sullivan turned to look over her shoulder and found Hoff staring down with gleeful intensity. She saw motion in the corner of her vision and glanced down. Hoff was still naked, of course. And he had the base of his firm and dangerous-looking cock - still much larger than O'Sullivan remembered from any examination - grasped in one hand. The shaft was flexing up and down menacingly, like a weapon.

O'Sullivan still couldn't believe the situation. Hoff's demands were ludicrious, clearly - but somehow she found herself still going along with it all. And not just due to the post-orgasmic haze that was clouding her mind.

There was something else, almost a pressure blanketing O'Sullivan's brain. It was almost as if everything Hoff said was initially incoherent but there was an immediate follow-on thought that made it all seem reasonable.

O'Sullivan looked across the room at Sylith, now leaning on the doorjamb. One of Sylith's hands was absently caressing up and down the outside of her coral thigh. Sylith's eyes were wide and fascinated, but there was no intention behind them. Her salacious expression was pasted on, fixed and empty, nothing like her normal intelligent expressiveness. Sylith was clearly in the grasp of more than mere sexual arousal.

O'Sullivan felt powerful hands grasp her hips from behind - like Hoff's penis, his hands felt larger than she would have expected. She felt a probing foot between hers, urging her feet shoulder-width apart. She felt the spongy head of Hoff's cock trace its way up and down her dripping slit, spreading her inner moisture around.

Even through her distraction, O'Sullivan was still surprised that something that felt so large was probing her there. There was clearly something - odd - about Commander Hoff.

Then the insistent organ was probing her vaginal entrance until it found the right angle to slip inside. O'Sullivan gasped as she felt the fat head spread her pussy lips apart and stretch her slick inner channel.

Hoff's shaft sank in a few inches at first, then pulled back to her entrance - only to press in a little deeper. Then again, a little deeper still. Slowly, but not hesitantly. Inexorably. O'Sullivan sighed audibly as pleasure spread throughout her vagina.

Soon, although Hoff wasn't even all the way inside yet, O'Sullivan was certain - in a primal feminine way - that something was different about Hoff. There was no way his perfectly ordinary male organ should be spreading and stretching her channel like this!

O'Sullivan felt a firm hand on her upper back urging her to lean forward. She was unable to avoid bending at the waist until her weight was on her forearms. Her breasts were dangling so that her stiff nipples were, just barely, brushing the surface of the "examination" bed. Which was still damp from the juices she'd left behind during her earlier climax.

O'Sullivan couldn't help moaning as she felt Hoff's enhanced shaft sink all the way into her receptive pussy for the first time.

O'Sullivan's head snapped back, and she met Sylith's vacantly entranced gaze across the room with her own widely bulging eyes. As the erotic scene between O'Sullivan and Hoff heated up, Sylith's hand was back working between her slender legs. The half-Thalassian had clearly decided to join in the fun.

Hoff stopped thrusting, leaving his shaft fully buried in O'Sullivan's depths. "I'm impressed, Doctor. It was worth the wait," Hoff murmured down at the impaled O'Sullivan. And he pulled back, just an inch or two, before slamming back in to the root. Drawing an inarticulate little cry from O'Sullivan.

"Who would have known," followed by a quick thrust.

"That their so-diligent Doctor," another quick thrust.

"Was such an easy lay?" and yet another thrust.

O'Sullivan moaned out loud. She couldn't help it. She hadn't really been prepared for the newly enhanced size that Hoff seemed so proud of. He was reaching places - well, not places O'Sullivan had never been touched before - but places she hadn't expected to be touched right now!

Through pleasure-slitted eyes, O'Sullivan saw Sylith, standing knees apart, plundering her own glistening white-furred pussy with two fingers. The vision of her close friend moaning and eagerly frigging herself was absurd, but the lust-clouded O'Sullivan was having trouble putting one coherent thought after another.

Then O'Sullivan felt what she had known was coming. Relishing his conquest, Hoff began to increase the pace and depth of his strokes. Arousal began to drive all other thoughts out of O'Sullivan's fevered mind.

Her senses were consumed with the intimate stretching of her channel. The rough friction as Hoff's veins and ridges brushed her sensitive G-spot on each penetrating thrust.

"Do you have something," Hoff panted, "To tell me, Doctor?"

O'Sullivan couldn't think, could barely breathe. Her moans sounded like they were coming from another woman. The pleasure was so intense. Her pussy was gripping Hoff's enhanced tool, coating it with sticky, sweet juices.

But Hoff was demanding something more from her.

"Oh. Oh. Keep. Oh. Keep fucking me," O'Sullivan blurted.

"Ha!" Hoff gloated, "Not enough!" And he switched his angle so that his girthy cock was rubbing O'Sullivan's swollen G-spot like a big finger.

O'Sullivan shivered as a new tremor of delight passed through her. Then again, as Hoff continued to torment her with pleasure. O'Sullivan knew that Hoff wanted to hear even more from her, but between frantic breathing and inadvertent cries of delight, she couldn't force any words out.

O'Sullivan squirmed her hips feverishly, pressing her plush butt back into Hoff's buff hips, seeking more sensation on her defenseless pleasure centers. Breathless, she slapped her hand against the bedcovers as excitement threatened to overwhelm her.

Both O'Sullivan and Hoff looked up when a sharp cry came from the doorway. Sylith, twitching and shaking with another climax, had sunk to trembling knees. The First Officer's eyes were shut tight and her platinum-haired head was thrown backward in abandonment.

O'Sullivan looked back over her shoulder at the rampant Hoff. "I need to... I need to come too," O'Sullivan cried, between gasps.

"Not. Quite. Enough," Hoff groaned, punctuating each word with a dominating full-length stroke. Each toe-curling, pistoning thrust stretched O'Sullivan to her limits. Her pussy was clenching and convulsing continuously now around Hoff's amazing shaft.

O'Sullivan was whimpering and moaning unceasingly. Her sweaty nipples were thick knobs, dragging wonderfully across the rough bedcover. Hoff's deep thrusts were hammering her most hidden erogenous zones, each one sending a shock of pleasure through her whole lower body.

It was hard for O'Sullivan to breathe and harder to think. Her fevered brain was melting. That pressure, that distraction, was bearing down. Her very identity was under assault by wave after wave of pleasure spreading from her burning pussy.

Tormented by ecstasy, O'Sullivan's tortured spirit gave in. "Oh, my God!" she cried, "Take me! I'm yours! I'm all yours!"

One more lifegiving thrust and O'Sullivan was filled with ecstasy. She fell forward onto her elbows as she was engulfed in one full-body shudder after another. O'Sullivan felt the orgasm take her over entirely as she writhed in pleasure, her oversensitized channel flooded with her arousal's juices.

O'Sullivan was helpless with pleasure, almost sobbing as she continued to writhe. The climax was going on and on, Hoff's pleasure-giving shaft still spurring her pleasure centers into overdrive.

Finally, she collapsed nervelessly, all her weight on her forearms. The pleasure in O'Sullivan's oversensitized pussy had crossed over almost to pain. Hoff waited for his conquest to recover, cock still buried deep inside her moist, clenching channel.

"Very good, Doctor! Veeeeery good!" Hoff exulted. "Yes! You _are_ mine now!" He seemed to be fully aware that O'Sullivan had no willpower left in her sex-maddened brain.

Hoff seemed to enjoy the new angle, picking up the rhythm again. Eagerly, he continued to thrust deep and hard, relentlessly. No longer seeming to care about O'Sullivan's pleasure, Hoff just ravaged her well-used pussy.

"I am! Your! New! Commander!" Hoff growled triumphantly. Gripping O'Sullivan again by her curvy hips, Hoff buried his enhanced cock full-length in her sopping channel.

Then Hoff, filled with his victory, gave in to the mammoth climax that had been building within him for the past hour. His superior cock swelled and began to pulse. Enhanced balls twitching, he fired jet after jet of semen into his newest conquest's very core. Spurt after spurt of potent sperm took command of O'Sullivan's pussy, filling her with Hoff's hot, sticky essence.

O'Sullivan felt the hot liquid fill her pussy, even as her inner muscles clamped down, almost by instinct - as if to extract as much juice as possible from Hoff's spurting cock.

But something was different now.

Although she was still dazed from being pleasurably if roughly used and from climaxing repeatedly and powerfully, O'Sullivan's sex-fogged brain suddenly felt like a normal after-an-orgasm daze. The weird prevailing mood - the distracting sense of complacency, of acquiescence - was gone.

O'Sullivan tried to review the situation she was in quickly, trying to focus through the haze, even though her body was still trembling with aftershocks. She could feel Hoff's still-impressive penis softening inside her, doubtless sloppy with a froth of their mingled sex juices.

Seconds passed, glacially. The sensations echoing through O'Sullivan's exhausted body seemed fresher somehow, as if she were feeling everything for the first time.

With eyes coming back to full focus, O'Sullivan looked across the cabin, and met Sylith's narrowing gaze. She saw what looked like an answering flicker of recognition from the half-Thalassian.

Then, as if inevitably, the gentle lassitude returned. As O'Sullivan watched, a simple, contented smile spread across the First Officer's face. O'Sullivan knew that her own matching smile was now answering it.

...

Ten minutes later, Second Officer Hoff, now impeccably re-dressed in his service uniform, turned back from the open door of his cabin. Looking at his two sister officers sprawled over the furniture, both still naked and redolent with sexual afterglow, Hoff smiled possessively.

"Must you go now, Sir?" O'Sullivan asked.

"I go on duty in five minutes," Hoff replied. "I must go to the bridge and... take command."

Hoff thought for a second. "Join me there as soon as you can. Looking at you two now, I'd like to say that the Uniform Of The Day is 'nothing', but I don't think the rest of the crew is ready for that yet. So get your uniforms back on, just be sexy about it."

The door closed behind Hoff, cutting short an enthusiastic soprano chorus of "Yes, Sir!"

Hoff actually whistled a jaunty tune as he traversed the corridors to the bridge. His bridge, now. Soon it would be his for good.

When the bridge doors whooshed open, Hoff strode in as if he owned the place, because in a very real sense he already did.

Strangely for the Vanguard, every member of the bridge crew, whatever race or color, was male. Also strangely, for the most part they seemed very young - the most junior officers were over-represented.

Looking around from the doorway, Hoff's smile widened. "I have the conn," Hoff announced. "I've just come from being with Commander Sylith, and I officially relieve her."

The debonair Science Officer turned in the Captain's Chair to look up at Hoff. "You have the conn, Sir," he replied, standing up to vacate the central seat.

Hoff smiled at that, and looked down at the bridge crew as he strode to take the offered chair. "Yeoman Adongo, Lt. Marrow, let's have a talk. Man to man." Hoff looked up at the Science Officer, still standing at parade rest next to him. "Stay, Mr. Dempsey. You might be interested in this..."

As the younger men left their stations to form a huddle around the main seat, Hoff began to talk.

...

Kawakami started awake. Something felt wrong. Something _was_ wrong.

Kawakami couldn't place the feeling. But she knew her ship, the subliminal hum of the engines, the muted sounds of the activity of over a hundred crew, even the feel of the air.

She flicked the switch of the intercom on her bedside table, but it wouldn't respond.

Suspicious, Kawakami woke and dressed in the dark. Striding towards the hallway, she nearly broke her nose when the door didn't whoosh open. And it continued to be recalcitrant until she used the manual emergency override.

Certain that something was up, Kawakami instinctively decided against going to the bridge, and to take the turbolift the other way instead. Security was down there, by engineering.

Like her cabin door, the turbolift refused to accept her spoken command. But Kawakami knew how things work on a starship, so she dredged a command override code out of her memory, and sighed in relief when this one worked and the lift took her obediently downward.

When Kawakami entered the Security Office, she found it occupied by tall, stolid Lt. Trevor Sandvik. She knew the blond Scandanavian well. He'd worked his way up from the enlisted ranks and returned to the Vanguard after a mid-career trip to OCS. Kawakami had good reason to trust the phlegmatic Sandvik.

"I think something's wrong, Lieutenant. But I don't have anything solid."

Lt. Sandvik took a deep breath. "I think I do, Captain. Commander Hoff is on the bridge, and Commander Sylith seems to be acting... strangely."

"Strange enough to be suspicious?"

"I know this ship and crew too, Captain. There's a lot of strange things happening, and they're all centered around Commander Hoff."

"And he's on the bridge," Kawakami flatly stated.

Lt. Sandvik just nodded.

"Let's go up there, Lieutenant," Kawakami commanded.

"Aye, Captain," Lt. Sandvik said, formally. Then he turned to the other occupant of the office. "Stone, you're coming with us. Bring your sidearm."

"He's a good man, Captain," Lt. Sandvik said, "You can trust him, too."

Kawakami just nodded.

With the formidable Security officers flanking her, Kawakami had no trouble making her way to the bridge. Particularly since the corridors were strangely empty for a ship that never had a true night shift.

However, just like with her cabin, the lift doors refused to open. Next to the closed entryway, the intercom hissed to life.

"Right on time, Captain," Hoff's modulated voice came over the intercom. "I knew you would be coming to see me."

...

Hoff sat in the Captain's center seat on the bridge. His thumb was on the intercom button on the arm of the chair. There was a smug smile on his face.

Flanking him were Sylith and O'Sullivan. They had each changed into matching uniforms. Uniforms that reflected Hoff's taste in how female officers should dress.

Reflecting the optional choice of kilt for officers, the two women were wearing wine-colored skirts. Miniskirts, that is. Which were short enough to be almost a parody of the official kilt. The hemlines were high enough to completely show off their entire generous lengths of smooth thigh flesh, in respective coral and silky white colors. High enough that a slight breeze would likely reveal their cute panty-clad butts and pussy mounds. Matching knee-high stockings and black ankle boots complemented the look.

Above the skirts were matching cream-colored turtlenecks. The clingy garments looked like they were regulation at first glance. But a second look revealed that the stretch material was almost sheer enough to be translucent. The tight black bras containing the two women's thrusting breasts showed clearly through. And, though the turtlenecks were modest in terms of high necklines and long sleeves, each was cropped at the ribcage, exposing all the smooth skin of the women's bellies.

Completing the outfit, each woman had a leather instrument case at her hip, with a strap looping diagonally over the opposite shoulder. As the straps passed between their upstanding, bra-encased breasts, the straps separated and enhanced their busts. Sylith's case contained a portable scanner, O'Sullivan's her standard medikit.

...

"What do you mean, Hoff? What did you know?" Kawakami's suspicious voice echoed through the bridge's speakers.

"Your officers have seen the light, Captain," Hoff replied, leaning back with his hands behind his head. He paused, eyes looking possessively left then right at the sexy women at either hand. "So has your crew."

There was a pause, then Kawakami replied. "I'm here now, Hoff. This is my ship."

"Captain, I might have... misled you earlier," Hoff replied, brushing off the implied threat. "I do know what was inside the Anomaly. I've seen it. It's the next stage of human evolution, Captain. They gave me just a taste of what we can all receive. The crew has seen it, and they want it, Captain. I want to take this ship back to the Anomaly. And they want to follow me there."

"I'm not going to follow you, Commander," Kawakami snarled.

Hoff spun his chair and nodded to Sylith, who stepped to the doorway and flicked the override switch. The door whooshed open. After a few seconds, Kawakami stepped onto the bridge, sidearm raised, eyes scanning the room.

Hoff stood, facing Kawakami. "You came here to me," Hoff said simply. "Why is that, Captain? Where did your feelings of unease come from? Of inadequacy? That the ship was no longer yours? The feelings that would inevitably lead you to a confrontation?"

Kawakami's eyes focused on Hoff, as did her sidearm. "You're saying that was... your doing?"

"Captain, the Anomaly put me on the road to becoming a god. Your Fleet Command training is very good - even I can't break through it. Yet here you are."

And Hoff nodded again at Sylith, who stepped over to Kawakami, gently reached out with both hands, and almost respectfully took the sidearm away. Kawakami did not react violently, a fact which seemed to surprise her as well as the watching crew. Sylith merely gestured for Kawakami to step to the center of the bridge.

As Kawakami approached suspiciously, O'Sullivan spoke in a salacious tone of voice. "You're going to love this, sir. Captain Kawakami is hot."

"I'll say she is," Hoff replied, playing to the rest of the junior bridge crew. "Her bod is infamous throughout the Fleet!"

"Not just that," O'Sullivan countered. "Her normal body temperature is over one degree higher than average. The standard uniform is too warm to be comfortable."

"And so?"

"So take a look at what's under that jacket."

"You're the doctor, Doctor," Hoff replied, one eyebrow raised. Then he turned to Kawakami, still standing silently. "I'm afraid it's Doctor's orders, Captain - let's have the jacket."

Kawakami gave Hoff an unreadable stare through slitted eyes. She still felt the unease that had driven her here to reclaim her ship. She also felt the unsatisfied lust left over from last night that even her polymer sex toy couldn't satisfy.

Surprising everyone, Kawakami acquiesced. Unfastening the catch near her shoulder, Kawakami slid the fastener down and shrugged the garment off her shoulders.

As promised, all Kawakami had been wearing underneath was her standard-issue activity-rated bra. The black, sheer, stretchy fabric clung to every lovely contour of Kawakami's breasts. Those breasts were rightly famous, the perfect balance of size and firmness. Round as cantaloupes, they hung proudly, not even needing the support of the bra's wonder material. Though not even hard - yet - her thumbtip-sized nipples and puffy areolae were clearly obvious through the fine fabric.

All around the bridge, there was a collective intake of masculine breath.

"Well, Doctor - when you're right, you're right. I had no idea just how hot the Captain truly was! Now take it off, my dear Captain."

Kawakami, face set in a half-sneer, reached behind herself without breaking eye contact with her junior officer. The military-grade clasp took some doing, but soon yielded, allowing Kawakami's amazing tits to spring free.

Bare, the ivory mounds were perfect. Large and firm, set ever so slightly wide - one finger of cleavage at the top and two or so at full hang - Kawakami's breasts were round and graceful. Despite Kawakami's approaching middle age, her breasts were smooth and creamy, and if they sagged at all it certainly wasn't visible. The large nipples crowning the tip of each globe inevitably drew the eye, each at the center of a small taupe areola - the perfect size for fingers, lips, or tongues.

The astonished faces of the men around Kawakami brought an ironic tilt to her lips, the first time her expression had been anything but a grimace. As impassive as her face might seem, Kawakami's nipples visibly stiffened. Uncomfortably, Kawakami realized that it wasn't entirely due to the chill of the recycled air.

"Doctor, please get me some T'Baxi oil," Hoff commanded.

As Dr. O'Sullivan rummaged in her medical bag, she asked "Master, wouldn't you prefer a light aphrodisiac, like Tau Cetian D'Caria oil?"

Hoff laughed. "She's not going to need an aphrodisiac! Look at those puppies - tits that big are always hypersensitive. I bet the Captain is so easy to turn on that she can come just from having her nipples played with. They're already hard as rocks!"

Knowing that there was more than a little truth to Hoff's accusation, Kawakami flushed slightly and looked away, unable to meet Hoff's salacious leer.

O'Sullivan, a grin lifting one corner of her mouth, stepped in front of Kawakami. She lifted her hypospray to eye level, and tapped the chamber meaningfully, twice. Then she lowered it to point at Kawakami's chest, and activated the device.

Warm oil, almost exactly Kawakami's somewhat elevated body temperature, sprayed in a wide dispersal. O'Sullivan, with medical precision, aimed the spray to evenly coat Kawakami's soft, round globes as well as her collarbone and ribcage. Some of the warming liquid pooled into the deep, deep cleavage between the impressive mounds. O'Sullivan covered her breasts so thoroughly, Kawakami imagined she could feel drops forming to drip from her protruding nipples.

"I thought my new form was the pinnacle of human evolution, but maybe I was wrong!" Hoff exclaimed as his eyes drank in the sight of Kawakami's oiled breasts. "Truly magnificent!"

As if compelled, Hoff reached out to cup one of Kawakami's slippery boobs. He lifted it gently, delighting in the density and heft. "So smooth and firm," Hoff marveled out loud, for the benefit of the all-male audience. Then he brushed his fingers over one big, sensitive nipple, causing Kawakami to shudder. "And so responsive!"

"My God, these puppies were made for this!" Hoff cried. Emboldened, he tweaked both slippery, sensitive nipples firmly. As Kawakami twitched and sighed in response, Hoff rolled the sensitive nubs between his fingers, and ran his fingertips firmly around the slick, puffy areolae.

As Hoff targeted her erotic weak points, Kawakami felt herself begin to helplessly dampen her uniform panties. She had so much horniness left over that it was overcoming her better judgement. And Hoff was too incisive - he had zoomed straight in on the center of her arousal. Jolts of pleasure were shooting through her poor horny body with every flick and roll of her vulnerable nipples.

Kawakami couldn't stay silent much longer. She wanted to push Hoff's hands away. She wanted to retake her ship's bridge. She wanted to deck her junior officer for his presumption.

But what she did was arch her back to push her sensitive breasts into his assertive hands.

"It's pretty clear what she likes!" Hoff gloated.

And Hoff stepped up the pace of his aggressive fondling, brazenly kneading the slick, smooth ivory flesh. With a gasp, Kawakami began to tremble and her knees grew suddenly weak. As Kawakami's throbbing nipples pushed themselves into Hoff's groping palms, her pussy throbbed with heat, pulsing in time with Hoff's firm caresses.

The amazing sensations were overcoming both Kawakami's mind and body with the fire of arousal.

"Look at this! Your proper, professional Captain - get your hands on her knockers, and she's just another slut..." But even while playing to the fascinated crowd of crewmen, Hoff never stopped knowingly fondling Kawakami's oil-slickened breasts. She wriggled fitfully as Hoff, as if reading her mind, devastatingly switched back and forth between massaging the dense mounds and aggressively teasing her swollen, aching nipples.

Finally, as Kawakami continued to do nothing to refuse him access to her breasts, Hoff pinched both fingertip-sized nipples firmly... and the added frisson of pain laid on top of the unrelenting pleasure caused a sudden orgasm to crash over her. Helplessly, Kawakami let out a plaintive, high-pitched cry audible to the entire bridge.

Eyes tight shut and thighs squeezed firmly together on either side of her throbbing pussy, Kawakami twitched and gasped as devastating pleasure surged out from her heated breasts in unstoppable waves. Overstimulated and light-headed, Kawakami sank helplessly to her knees, fabulous body still quivering.

After a few seconds, Hoff bent down and with one hand under Kawakami's chin, tilted her face up to look at him. Still punchy from the unexpected orgasm, Kawakami had trouble focusing with dilated pupils. "Looks like you've been relieved, Captain," Hoff said quietly, smiling cheekily at the parody of Fleet protocol. Then he raised his voice to encompass the watching junior crewmen. "Now it's time for everyone to meet your new commander."

And Hoff straightened up, leaving his package in the wide-eyed Kawakami's line of vision. The Vanguard's Captain shook her thick head as if to clear it. The request was ridiculous, even if they were in private, much less in the middle of the Bridge with an entire shift of crewmen looking on. And who was Hoff to be giving her commands?

As Kawakami watched, Hoff undid his belt and slid his uniform trousers and briefs down his supple hips and muscular legs. Hoff's semi-hard penis, impressively - and surprisingly - long and hefty, flopped out into the view of all. Once again, a collective indrawing of breath swept the bridge. Hoff, noticing the attention, boastfully announced "Behold the next phase of human evolution, everyone! When we bring this ship back to my friends, everyone will be granted the same boon!"

Kawakami felt dazed, as if she had been hypnotized, as if Hoff's cock was a cobra. It had been a while since she had experienced a truly strong orgasm. Certainly not at her own hands. Distracted by the sight of Hoff's enhanced organ, and still quaking with the aftershocks of the orgasm Hoff had drawn out of her, Kawakami was feeling lightheaded.

And for some reason, it felt strangely normal to be on her knees in front of a naked man.

Hoff was still arrogantly appraising the spectacle. "Well, Captain," he purred lewdly. "Don't you think it's time to salute?" As if it was under conscious control, Hoff's huge semi-erection lurched to near-full hardness at the prospect of Kawakami's attentions.

Kawakami knew what Hoff - and indeed the spectators around the bridge - expected, but somehow it didn't seem unreasonable. As Hoff spread his feet in the classic masculine power stance, Kawakami leaned in and delicately licked his massive organ from base to tip, causing it to rise to full length.

As Kawakami turned her attention to the sensitive purple head, Hoff turned to play once more to the crowd. "As I expected, a trained negotiator's tongue! So diligent at doing her duty!" And he patted Kawakami affectionately on the top of her bobbing head.

"But that's not why I called you up here, my dear Captain," Hoff exulted, even as he used the hand on her head to push her slightly away. "Your diplomatic skills are renowned throughout the Fleet... but what I want today happens to be little lower down, and covered with warm oil."

Kawakami felt all eyes in the room slide down to her breasts, and felt heat rise to her face as she flushed pinkly. As if they had a mind of their own, however, her thick nipples stiffened back to firm peaks. As if driven by her lingering horniness, Kawakami's hands cupped underneath the hefty weight of her breasts, lifting the gleaming orbs as if offering them to the imperious Hoff as a sacrifice.

Hoff flexed his knees, lowering himself slightly so that he could press forward and nestle his raging penis into the furrow between Kawakami's impressive breasts. He covered her hands with his, pressing the lovely mounds together to envelop his shaft in warm, slick softness.

Even the self-proclaimed "superman" couldn't resist gasping in pleasure at the sweet sensation.

Using Kawakami's sensitive nipples as guides, Hoff gently urged the kneeling Captain to raise herself up until only the purple dome at the tip of his shaft was still nestled in her slippery, fragrant cleavage. Then, with a gasp of pleasure, Hoff flexed his hips and his cock slid easily through the enticing valley until the tip burst free at the top.

Soon, the aroused Kawakami was sighing along with Hoff, as the standing man continued to stimulate himself - and consequently her as well. Hoff was now imperiously sliding his cock between Kawakami's succulent mounds while simultaneously tweaking her aching nipples, to great effect on her soaring libido.

Looking arrogantly down into the Captain's enraptured eyes, Hoff delightedly continued to thrust his erection back and forth, back and forth, again and again, in that tight, slick, gleaming channel.

Kawakami's head was swimming. Hoff wasn't giving her stiff nipples quite enough attention to bring her to another orgasm, but the delicious feel of his pole plunging again and again between her squeezed-together mounds was still tremendously erotic.

Kawakami was tingling from her throbbing nipples up to her flushed collarbone.

Hoff was using her for his own satisfaction, and Kawakami knew that she should find it objectionable. But, lost in such a sexual fog, it somehow didn't feel wrong to be used. In fact, her lower lips were starting to feel as slippery as her breasts. Even though her breasts were covered in oil and Hoff's slippery precum. Kawakami knew that there would be a damp spot on her uniform panties.

"Ha!" Hoff exulted as he watched the angry purple head of his cock persistently popping out from the top of Kawakami's lubricated cleavage. "Legendary! Six months ago I'd have been lost in all that smooth bounty! But today I've conquered the finest breasts in the quadrant!" And he tweaked Kawakami's firm and stiff thumbtip-sized nipples so that her sexy, breathy moans punctuated his swaggering gloating.

But Hoff was also panting now, and not just with exertion from the enthusiastic fucking.

Hoff began to thrust faster in Kawakami's well-lubed cleavage. He was almost involuntarily squeezing her gleaming breasts together, unconsciously in time with his thrusting penis. Staring fixatedly at Kawakami's rack, Hoff fucked relentlessly, only pulling back halfway before plunging deep again and again until his purple cockhead popped back into visibility. Each thrust was faster than the previous.

With all the junior crewmen's attention focused on the coupling couple, the bridge had fallen silent. The only sounds audible over the background hum of computing machines and control consoles were Hoff's labored breathing and the slapping of flesh against oiled flesh. Punctuated by an occasional breathy feminine moan when Hoff's unsteady fingers happened to squeeze Kawakami's sensitized breasts particularly firmly.

Suddenly Hoff grunted loudly and his groping hands clutched Kawakami's slick breasts in a death grip. Age-old feminine instinct told Kawakami exactly what was about to happen.

Kawakami looked down into her shadowed cleavage, even as Hoff let out a loud, almost painful, groan. Hoff's hips jerked, and Kawakami watched Hoff's purple dome appear one final time as Hoff spasmodically thrust his length all the way up her cleavage as far as he could manage.

Then Kawakami could only watch, wide-eyed, as the engorged head pulsed, the slit at the tip began to flex, and a huge spurt of Hoff's semen splashed against her chin and lower lip. The second and third squirted onto the ivory column of her throat. Then another and another and another - into the air, onto her neck and collarbone, dripping onto the smooth upper surface of her squeezed-together breasts.

Kawakami felt the heat of his essence, despite her own escalated temperature, as Hoff's ejaculation spackled her silky skin.

Trembling, Hoff began to slither his cock back and forth again, further dribbles of his spermy seed coating his flexing penis and filling Kawakami's cleavage as his evolutionarily advanced balls emptied themselves fully in smaller streams over Kawakami's beautiful tits.

Every eye in the room was on Kawakami as her tongue unconsciously crept out to taste some of the thick pearlescent goo that was stuck to her upper lip.

But even as she did, Kawakami felt a weight drop from her shoulders. Her sex-fogged thoughts, which had been lost in a submissive erotic post-orgasmic haze, seemed to clear.

Suddenly it slammed home that she was on her knees contentedly servicing the junior officer who had mutinied to take over her ship, and the whole bridge crew was watching her degradation. Kawakami raised her eyes to Hoff's still-ecstatic face in shock and horror.

So Kawakami was the only one who saw Hoff's eyes roll up into his head. Unnoticed, Doctor O'Sullivan had moved to stand beside Hoff, the same hypospray she had earlier used to spray oil on Kawakami's chest again in her hand. Now with the business end pressed to Hoff's neck.

"You fecking gobshite! I thought I felt you lose control when you came!" O'Sullivan snarled. Hoff, now stunned by more than just his massive orgasm, was unable to answer. He collapsed backward like a tree. O'Sullivan stepped out of the way, allowing the mutineer to fall to his back on the deck.

Hard.

"Sorry about the mess, Captain," O'Sullivan said, reaching down to lift her Captain to her feet. Hoff's unconscious form lay unmoving below them.

...

Kawakami, Sylith, and O'Sullivan, back in full regulation uniform, stood around a bed in sickbay. On the bed was the unconscious Hoff, his enhanced body still completely bare. His tremendous, highly evolved penis was soft now, flopping down one muscular thigh.

"Sorry, Captain," Sylith sighed. "Thalassians are notorious for lack of psychic ability, and my human ancestors have no history of any supernatural talents. I was an easy target when he started manifesting his new powers. I practically forced my way into his cabin last evening and was on my knees worshipping him within two minutes. All the while thinking it was my idea."

"No shame, Commander," Kawakami reassured. "He got to all of us in the end. And in front of the entire bridge crew, too."

"Well, it wasn't the first time," O'Sullivan chipped in. "Remember the Great Pirate Sargon on Norgolia Three?"

"Mmm, yeah," Sylith mused. "The Mad Emperor of Ragal. And that half-human, half-reptile that fought the Captain in that asteroid arena."

"And the Bull-God of Auriga," O'Sullivan continued.

"That one... wasn't as unpleasant as it looked," Kawakami reflected, a distant look in her eyes.

Both the other officers turned to stare at the Captain. "It didn't look like it was unpleasant, Captain," O'Sullivan said.

"In any case, Captain," Sylith quickly changed the subject. "What should be done about the crewmen who helped him?"

"They didn't obey him any more than we did, Sylith," Kawakami sighed. "Anyway, they were kids. Hoff picked his targets from the most vulnerable."

"I can use this as a teaching moment, Captain," O'Sullivan opined. "Space is weird and dangerous, and as often as this ship sees uncanny stuff, everyone has to be alert. The Psych Officer and I can schedule some counseling, particularly for the junior officers."

"So that just leaves him," Kawakami mused.

"We can't take him back to base, Captain," Sylith stated flatly. "With powers like that, he'll own the place as soon as someone wakes him up."

"Well, I can't keep him under forever. And a medical coma is a coin flip," Dr. O'Sullivan countered.

"I'm not going to give him a death sentence," Kawakami answered. "It's outside my authority, and it would be disproportionate to his crimes."

O'Sullivan tilted her head quizzically. "One of his crimes was mutiny, Captain!"

"There might be another way," Sylith interjected quietly. When she had the other two officers' attention, Sylith stepped to a computer console. On the console's screen, a cityscape sprang to life. "This is the terraforming colony on Virtud Four, Captain. We could reach it in about a standard week at full speed."

"How does that help?" O'Sullivan questioned. "Turning him loose on an unsuspecting colony would be just as bad as a starbase."

"If there were any colonists, I'd agree, Doctor," Sylith answered coolly. "But they are already dead."

"Yes, Doctor," Captain Kawakami sighed. "I remember it from the dispatches. A xenomorph ship crash-landed in the middle of the settlement. The survivors from the ship fought the survivors from the colony for a week, hand to hand. When the cruiser Victorious got there, all the humans were gone and the Captain could only use torpedoes to cleanse the ruins."

"Fleet Command considers the colony abandoned and the planet lost to xenomorph infestation," Commander Sylith continued. "But... the automated terraforming equipment is still working, and the farming and hydroponics sectors were not in the area of destruction."

"So it's possible that a trained Fleet officer in excellent physical condition could survive indefinitely there," Kawakami mused.

"Well, until the xenomorphs come back," O'Sullivan riposted.

"And it's marked Do Not Travel on all Fleet maps," Sylith added, "There is little danger of any Fleet ships getting close enough for him to take over."

"Marooned for the crime of mutiny," Kawakami pondered. "It seems appropriate. Make the arrangements, Commander. We'll set course immediately."

...

Two and a half weeks later, Captain Kawakami was back in the Vanguard's shuttle bay.

The ship had just rendezvoused with the destroyer Trebuchet, which had brought two much-needed replacements: a shuttle to replace the one that had taken Hoff down to Virtud Four, and a new Second Officer to replace Hoff himself.

Said shuttle had just landed. As Kawakami approached, the shuttle's door opened with a hiss as the pressure equalized. The officer who had piloted it stepped down to the deck and faced Kawakami, saluting. "Commander Anya Smith, Captain, reporting for duty."

Kawakami looked her new Second Officer up and down. Commander Smith was a tall woman, built solidly but without a hint of fat, like a decathlete. Smith was black, with very dark skin. Her midnight hair was braided and worn up. Like the Captain, Smith wore the optional kilt, hemmed so that only a hand's width of dark leg showed between kilt and boots.

"Welcome aboard, Commander," Captain Kawakami replied, with a matching salute.

"Thank you, Captain," Commander Smith said formally. "I appreciate the opportunity. Your ship is building quite a reputation, and I'm looking forward to new circumstances."

Captain Kawakami's trained ear caught something in Commander Smith's tone. "Is there something I should know, Commander?" she asked neutrally.

"Can I speak more freely, Captain?"

"I doubt that self-expression is one of your shortcomings, Commander. Please do."

Commander Smith drew in a deep breath. "Well, Captain... I felt like I needed a new environment. Situations on my previous posting had a distressing tendency to become... sexual in nature."

A rueful smile crossed Captain Kawakami's face. "I'm afraid I might have some unfortunate news on that topic..."