Shipboard 19&20 (NSFW)

                                                                  19
Ryan lay on a bed of snakes. The Embuos slept in a sort of big pile. The ladies buried themselves beneath their drones, enjoying the residual warmth of the snake-men from their time working in and around the ship’s mechanical works.
Or they had, before he and his stupid panic attacks had come along.
Instead, they took it in turns to lay with him, their tails curled up beneath themselves, and he slept laying on top of them. 
That day, he was cradled in the mocha arms of the executive officer, Caleste, whose complexion and the features of her face reminded him of shore leave in São Luís. Those girls knew how to show a man a good time, as long as he had the money for drinks.
He shifted, she had been awake before him, playing with his hair, and now he lounged in her lap, eyes closed, listening to the rumble of her humming through the soft flesh of her caramel breast.
He couldn’t stay in bed forever, though, as much as he thought his hosts would probably let him. He looked up at the woman, who smiled.
“Goodmornin’ sweetie-pie.”
“Good morning, Lieutenant."
“Honeh,” she laughed. “How many times do we have ta tell ya? Ya don’t have to stand on ceremony.”
“Thank you, Ma’am,” he said, clambering down off her and coming to his feet.
She shook her head, unfurling her tail and pulling herself upright. “Be that way, then.” She stretched, grimacing, her two left arms folding over her shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
“Ahen’t ya sweet?” she asked. “This’n’s fine, sugah; she just needs to warm up a bit.”
He frowned, looking down, scratching his ear. “Sorry.”
“You ain’t got nothin’ ta be sorry for, sugah,” she said, cupping his cheek. “This’n’s happy ta accommodate.”
He sighed, still feeling bad. Glancing around, it struck him that the room was empty. “Where is everybody?”
“Honeh,” she chuckled. “They’ve been gone an houah or more.”
“What?” he cried, turning to scramble to his little closet for a change of clothes.
She caught his hand and tugged him back to her side. “Hold on there, sweet thang. We’ve got the day off, well, you do. This’n’s here to make sure ya stop acting a fool.”
“Ma’am?”
She glared at him. “Yer pushin’ yerself too hard,” she said. “Ya wake up in the mornin’ and hardly have a bite to eat before headin’ to engineering; ya finish your shift, an’ it’s straight to studyin’. You eat at ya desk and come ta bed late. I undahstand yall want to learn all ya can, but yer gonna work yerself sick. Not ta mention robbing us of yer-” she looked him up and down, a playful smile tugging her lips. “Unique congeniality.”
He felt himself blush, and she grinned. “Sorry,” he said, “I-”
“Got nothin’ ta apologize for,” she finished for him. “But ya need a rest, and This’n aims to make sure ya get it.”
He scratched the bridge of his nose. “Lay down on your stomach,” he said.
“What?”
“I want to do something for you; lay down.”
She shrugged and did as he asked; laying down flat, she shot him a questioning look over her shoulder as he straddled her tail.
He leaned forward, working his hands into the small of her back, and she gasped, collapsing forward, her cheek resting on the floor, groaning. “Oh, honeh, yer hands ahe like little furnaces.”
“Good?”
“Wonderful,” she purred.
“Tell me where you’re stiff.”
“Higher, higher, right-” she moaned softly as he found a knot of tension just above her shoulder blades. “Right there.”
He smiled, kneading her flesh and working up her shoulders to the base of her neck.
Finally, she sighed, pushing herself up and leaving him sitting astride her tail, his arms wrapped around her neck. She smiled at him, pressing her back into his chest. “Why don’t we go ta the sauna?”
“Um,” he cleared his throat. “You’re my superior officer; I don’t know if that would be-”
The rest of his objection was lost in her lips. “You Xenos, always frettin'. Propriety this, discipline that. This ship ain’t gonna fall to pieces if we… take care of each othah.”
He swallowed, his eyes running over her generous curves. She was beautiful, they all were; he’d even grown fond of the tails.
She captured his hand, pulling his fingers to her lips. “Now, ya just tell This’n what yall want.”
“I-” he said, his mouth suddenly dry. “Let’s go.”
She smiled, helping him down from his perch and wrapping her right arms around him. “Come on then, sweetie.”
She guided him gently through the sleeping quarters into the adjoining sauna. 
The sauna was nice, relaxing, and it was more or less the only way the women cleaned themselves but existed primarily for them to warm up in the morning.
She paused at the door, shucking off her tight-fitting shirt and throwing it into the hamper. Then, smirking at him, pulled the knot on the side of her loincloth loose and tossed that aside too.
“Don’t keep This’n waiting, sugah,” she said, slithering through the door and leaving him on his own. 
He licked his lips, hesitating, before scrambling out of his clothes and chasing after the woman.
He stepped through the door, the floor pleasantly warm beneath his feet. Caleste lounged on her side, her tail winding up one of the broad heat pipes, her pastel green feathers fluffed up to capture the heat.
Ryan stepped toward her, eyes roaming her body. As he watched, she ran a hand up her hips, fingers sliding over her skin, inviting his eyes to follow. She paused, cupping one heavy breast before her hand slid down her stomach, drawing his gaze to the delicate lips of her vagina.
He swallowed, reaching out to caress her cheek; her hands covered his, pressing his fingers into the silky softness of her skin. At the same time, Caleste reached out, pulling him down to her as she rolled onto her back, pressing his head to her breasts. 
He pushed himself to his knees, straddling her tight, flat stomach tangling his fingers with hers, and pushing her gently to the ground, her upper hands pinned over her head.
She chuckled, deep and throaty, her remaining hands sliding over his skin, one finding its way to the small of his back, the other slipping down, her fingers caressing his rapidly hardening manhood.
Her face assumed a perfect look of delighted shock, genuine or feigned, he didn’t know, but regardless it set his teeth on edge and stoked the fires of his hunger.
She bit her lip, smiling, wrapping her fingers around his shaft. “You want This’n? Want to possess her?”
“Yes,” he gasped. “God, yes.” He didn’t dare reciprocate her question, afraid she might tell the truth.
She tugged on his manhood, guiding him to her lower lips. “Then take her; she’s more than ready.”
He bucked his hips, hilting himself inside her. Instead of being greeted by the familiar warmth of a human woman, she was cool, almost cold, but her welcoming tunnel squeezed and squirmed around him as though unwilling to let him go, and as he eased himself back, her inner muscles seemed to try and pull him back in.
He bucked forward again, and her head fell back, eyes fluttering shut. Her hips jerked up into him, and she offered him a happy moan that inspired him to pick up his pace.
She pulled him to her, fingers tangling in his hair, drawing him into a deep, ecstatic kiss.
He felt his climax building as their pace increased, her tail now thrashing in pleasure. “Caleste!” he moaned her name, burying himself inside her as he crashed over that edge, his hips jerking as he emptied himself inside her.
She threw her head back, eyes rolled back so far she only showed the whites and shouted loud enough that he was worried the rest of the crew might come running.
Slowly, she calmed, and he collapsed forward, his chin resting on her shoulder, her arms winding around him, twin pairs of hands slowly running up and down his back.
“So warm,” she said, voice filled with affection and awe. “This’n’s never felt-” she sighed, her head lolling to the side, eyes closed, a blissful smile on her lips. “Thank you.”
He had to admit, such a glowing review received from such a beautiful woman did wonders for his ego. He kissed her, laid his head on her still-heaving breast, and laid, half-dozing, basking in the afterglow of their coupling.
A sharp gasp reached his ears, and he looked up to see another woman in the doorway, but one to whom he’d never been introduced.
Her tail was purple, her hair fiery red, and her skin milky white. Their eyes met, and somehow, her face managed to pale further.
Caleste spotted her too and rolled onto her side, dumping Ryan onto the floor.  
He scrambled to his feet as the XO slithered around him, drawing herself up to her full height. “What ahe you doin’ here?”
The red-haired woman ducked her head, shrinking back out the door. “F- forgive me, Mistress; I came to clean; I didn’t realize I would be intruding.”
“You can see it well enough now!” Caleste snapped. “Now git! Out of our sight before this’n does something we both regret.”
The redhead turned and rushed out of the room, Ryan taking a step after her, hand outstretched, but Caleste caught him, turning him around to face her.
He looked up into her eyes, frowning. “What- what was- who was that?”
The woman looked past him, out the door. She shook her head slowly. “This’n’s sorry ya saw that; ya jus’ forget about it, about her, for both yer sakes.”




                                                                     20
Chairman Johan Engel sat in his office at the coalition headquarters. The building had formerly been the UN headquarters, but the war had put a period on that organization’s history.
Now, it was the statehouse of the United Earth Coalition, a name of such irony that it could make the Holy Roman Empire blush.
The organization, in truth, was not a coalition but a federalist superstate, didn’t, and really had never, represent exclusively terrestrial interests, and Earth was far from united under it.
Russia was intransigent, as usual; they claimed the whole thing was an American imperial project, an effort to make clients of the rest of the world.
It was difficult to argue because, after all, they were correct. But if twenty-fourth-century imperialism was to look like a world congress with democratic representation, then he and the rest of Prussia could imagine worse imperial powers. Had, in point of fact, suffered and been worse imperial powers.
And then there was China, the nation that had created the need for this body. Not- by precipitating World War Three and, over the course of years, caused the disintegration of the UN and every institution which had held the West together for over a century, though they had done that. Rather, they had afterward had the poor manners to themselves disintegrate as a nation. War, or water shortage, or demographic decline, whatever the reason, they’d fallen to pieces and left the world wondering what they were still fighting over.
The war more petered out than concluded, and that still left the problem of China, or, as the Americans had so concisely pointed out, the lack of China. No one was maintaining the three gorges dam, a catastrophe waiting to happen, with tens of millions of lives in the balance. To say nothing of the nuclear stockpile.
No one wanted those weapons falling into the hands of a bunch of mad warlords, but even if the worst didn’t come to pass, they also couldn’t leave hundreds or thousands of nuclear warheads to rot. But, of course, no one trusted anyone else to take possession, either.
Which brought him back to the coalition, an American brainchild, and, conveniently, with them as the real power in the arrangement. Russia, being at the time more or less bankrupt, had reluctantly agreed to allow them both to seize former Hubei, take control of the dam, and decommission China’s nuclear arsenal, with Russian supervision, of course. The rest was history.
Nations joined or didn’t as they wished. Those who did received representation in congress and those who didn’t still had no choice but to sit down and listen when congress spoke, so there was hardly a difference.
He checked his watch, stood; he had a meeting.
He stepped out of his office and was immediately met by his assistant, a binder in hand. 
“Sir,” she said. “This proposal the Americans sent to us I-”
“Carla!” he snapped. “We’re not alone.”
Carla, a mousy little brunette who wore coke-bottle thick glasses, flinched, swallowing. “Sorry, sir,” she whispered.
He sighed, shaking his head. It wasn’t as though he expected spies, but it paid to keep such things close to one's chest, even among friends. 
She cleared her throat. “Sir,” she whispered. “This emergency spending bill, this military expenditure, it’s ludicrous; what are the Americans thinking?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t know that it’s ludicrous, and neither do you; that’s why they’re bringing it to our office first, so we know what to expect and can decide if it’s something we can support.” It was the sort of spending that even the Americans couldn’t just push through, they would need support, and his office was a good place to start.
“I see, sorry, sir.”
“Honestly,” he huffed. “You need to learn if you want to make it in this town.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “Sir, what do you think they want with this money? Are they planning a ground invasion of Russia? Expansion in China?”
“If they wanted either of those things, there’s more than enough material and manpower in orbit.”
“They want to send the Liberty’s Voice away.”
He waved her away. “Which they wouldn’t be doing if they were planning a ground war.”
She frowned. “What about the Wexiks?”
“A war with our new allies? And I suppose they’re proposing to begin that campaign by allowing the aliens to station a fleet in orbit of Earth? No, they’re burning too much political capital trying to make this exchange happen and showing a great deal of trust for our Xeno friends. That’s not posturing for war.”
She chewed on her lip, seemingly wracking her brain. “Maybe they’re worried about internal problems when the Liberty’s voice is gone?”
“Are you suggesting we succeed?” he scoffed.
She seemed legitimately confused. “No? Why would I? Things are, well, they’re not perfect, but-”
He rolled his eyes. Had he ever been so young? It was hard to imagine. But then, he’d practically grown up with a rifle in hand, so maybe the comparison wasn’t fair. “Then perhaps they’re not worried about it either. Given there’s no reason they should be.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
He stroked the grey hair of his beard, his protégé was terribly impatient, but he supposed that was one of the benefits of youth. “Then let them explain it.”
“Yes, sir,” she nodded.
He stopped in front of the meeting room, checking his watch. Right on time.
He gave a cursory knock, opened the door, and proceeded Carla into the room. President Sullivan and his staff were already there, and as he entered, the other man stood, stepping around the table and meeting him with an outstretched hand. “Good to see you, Mr. Chairman.”
“Mr. President,” Johan said, taking the outstretched hand and giving it a firm shake.
“It’s good to see you, Johan; how’s your family?”
“They’re well, thank you,” he rechecked his watch. “Forgive me, sir, but I have another appointment after this.”
The president nodded. “Of course, we’ll try and make this fast; please, sit down.”
President Sullivan walked back around the table, resuming his seat. “Your office received our proposal.”
“Yes,” Johan said. “Mr. President, I have to say, you’re asking for a lot. I don’t know if my office can support such a measure.”
“I thought you might say something like that,” the president said, pushing a binder across the table. “I’d like you to have a look at this.”
Johan took the book and flipped it open; he was greeted by what was clearly a star, only it had a number of strange shadows dotting its surface. “What am I looking at?”
“The lab boys tell me they think this is the beginnings of a Dyson swarm,” the president said.
Johan looked up, toward the sun, but the president shook his head. “Not ours.”
“The Wexiks?”
Sullivan shook his head again. “Keep going.”
Johan flipped idly through the pages, each one a new picture with varying densities of shadow occluding the star.
Finally, he set the book aside, shaking his head. “You think this is a new neighbor?”
“Yes, and there’s something else,” the man nodded to the binder. “Start from the back.”
Johan did and saw a new image; in this one, the shadows nearly blocked the star’s light entirely. He flipped back through the pages, slowly realizing the pictures progressively showed lower densities of shadow. “What am I looking at?”
“Each of these pictures is a different star; the lab boys arranged them from nearest to farthest.”
“So coming from the back…,” Johan said slowly. “They’re expanding in our direction.”
The president nodded.
“You think they’re hostile?”
“We don’t know, but we don’t want to be caught flat-footed.”
Johan nodded and gestured to the binder. “This isn’t happenstance; how did you find this?”
“We got a tip from the Wexiks ambassador.”
“A tip? Why not just tell us?”
The president shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Internal restrictions?”
Sullivan shook his head. “I can only speculate. What matters is, he didn’t feel he could tell us outright, but he felt the need to warn us.”
Johan scratched his chin, gazing down at the photo album. “My office will support your proposal; we’ll see about drumming up support in congress. May I keep this?” he tapped the binder. “It will help.”
“I figured you’d ask; go ahead.”
Johan closed the binder and handed it off to Carla for safekeeping. “We’ll need to increase recruitment.”
“America has already done what we can in that regard, but I think the suggestion might come off better if it came from your office,” Sullivan said.
“That seems prudent, Mr. President. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you, Johan.”
“Of course, and Mr. President?”
“Yes?”
Johan leaned forward, clasping his hands together on the desk. “My term will be expiring in not too much longer. I believe the current front runners are America, Burgundy, the Polish Comonwealth, and Punjab. I think it might behoove you to go have a word. Perhaps America could provide a more muted campaign in exchange for a friendly ear in the chairman’s office?”
The president frowned. “Not a bad idea… the Poles will probably agree, but the Burgundians-”
“I’ll have a word with their offices, too,” Johan said. “Impress upon them the importance of national unity in the coming years. We’re not anglophone, so….”
“Thank you, Mr. Chairman; your efforts are appreciated.”
“For the peace and prosperity of all peoples,” Johan said, nodding. “Will that be all, Mr. President?”
“Yes,” Sullivan said. “Thank you for your time.”
“Of course,” Johan stood. “And thank you for your candor. Have a good day, Mr. President.”
“And you, Mr. Chairman.”
They shook, and Johan took his leave; his schedule suddenly full.

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