Admiral’s Personal Log: Earth Reckoning, 9 April 2286; Xanthe Council Reckoning, 89-Theta, 227.

It’s been nine hours since the Odyssey’s departure from Kyoto Spacedock and Yards and, for a mercy, this mission hasn’t felt like one big April Fool’s joke. While I doubt anything could truly impress our Xanthe babysitter—the esteemed Ambassador Xenopatra—my crew has acquitted themselves, and the United Nations, magnificently. But to ‘seal the deal,’ I’ve decided to take The Odyssey on an easy mission in deep space: we’re now on approach to the Hourglass Nebula. A few scans, demonstrative experiments, with a dash of astrogation and we’ll head home.

***

The door chimed.

Admiral Alexandra Chase sighed as she turned off the log. One day, ships like the UNS Odyssey wouldn’t need Xanthe “chaperones” in order to perform certain missions. But today was not that day.

Alexandra brushed down her navy-blue uniform and straightened its white and gold collar, before pushing a stray lock of auburn hair back into her otherwise immaculate bun. She didn’t want a hair out of place for what came next. “Come.”

In walked a perfect reflection of Alexandra’s pride and poise. The regally dressed, sunset-hued Ambassador. Her jet-black hair was a match for the human variety--except for the way it seemed to move of its own accord, slowly, as if she were permanently immersed in water. Her robes were a spectrum of yellow that matched her orange-gradient skin, an outfit neither formless nor flattering. Which, come to think of it, was how Alexandra thought of the Ambassador. “Admiral Chase, I was hoping I could speak with you for a moment,” she said with a tone that made clear it was not a request. The door hissed shut behind her.

“Please,” Alexandra said, rising from her chair and gesturing to the one opposite her desk. Her office was a little slice of Earth, with its tasteful wood panelling, with furnishings to match. But despite the antique material, the design sensibility was all 23^rd Century, with smooth lines and minimalism the order of the day. “Can I get you a drink?”

Ambassador Xenopatra sighed, “I do not understand why humans insist on consuming alcohol at every opportunity. Least of all a professional meeting. No, I will decline.”

Alexandra frowned while she had her back turned to the other woman as she poured herself a now sorely-needed Scotch. “Forgive me, it is a gesture of friendship among our people, I mean no offence.”

“Clarity of mind will be needed on the frontiers of known space, Admiral. Though I suspect your carefully orchestrated milk-run for this vessel will not demand quite so much of you.”

Alexandra walked over to the panoramic window to gaze at the mottled pink of hyperspace roil past outside, taking a long sip of her drink as fortification. “I take it you disapprove of the Hourglass Nebula mission?”

“I am of two minds, Admiral. On the one hand, I would be wary of trusting the UNS Odyssey with a more advanced assignment profile. On the other, I worry that something so basic does not require a Xanthe Ambassador to evaluate. What, precisely, would I be testing you on?”

What indeed? She wanted to snarl. But no, she had to be as diplomatic as possible about this. The Odyssey was the flagship of the UN, its crew multi-species, its technology the very latest. Within its long, tapered spearpoint of a hull was a thriving city in space. A culmination of human, Vorii, and Felsian ingenuity. Combined, of course, with the hyperfusion drive that made faster-than-light travel possible. The very thing the Xanthe gave humanity—under strict treaty stipulation that every instance of FTL travel was monitored by a Xanthe ambassador. Xenopatra knew this. She was trying to say she was too important for this mission. A mission planned to the last detail precisely because of Xenopatra’s stature on the Council. And she was spitting on it.

Alexandra turned to face Ambassador Xenopatra with a steel smile. “Ambassador, I didn’t know you wanted to renegotiate the Treaty of Lagrange Four here and now. You should’ve at least bought me dinner first.”

“…I do not understand the reference. Isn’t food free on this vessel?”

Alexandra’s smile softened into something more genuine now. “I mean, Ambassador, that you and I must play the roles we have been given, and it’s too late to turn back now. I regret that the Hourglass Nebula mission is less stimulating than you might hope. But all I ask is that you give us a chance.”

“Hm. I want the entire molecular composition of that nebula, top to bottom. Find something worthwhile. I am obliged to score you with passing marks if you demonstrate basic competence, but I am no fool. Your politics is a good deal less subtle than your metaphors, Admiral. I know the Secretary General wishes for you to impress me. And if you wish to do that, then I suggest for your sake that you earn it. Enjoy your ‘drink.’” Xenopatra rose from her chair and glided out the door without another word.

***

The bridge was alive with activity as the purple transphase of hyperspace gave way to the firmament that had allured every officer on that bridge since they were children. But with something more filling the main viewscreen: the Hourglass Nebula, with its bewitching teal ‘eye.’

The stations around the bridge were aglow with their own lights: holograms and computer screens rapidly filling up with data.

Alexandra sat crosslegged in her chair, sipping some tea out of a fine cup, the saucer held in her free hand. “And here we are. With nothing but time.” Her lips curled into a smile as she beheld the nebula. “Ms. Legasova, bring us in to the heart of the nebula. Lt. Commander Iweala, full spectrum scans as we approach, set our enphaser to start collecting particles. And, my good XO,” she said, looking at the mighty woman standing next to her: Commander Avedra, green skin, white hair, all muscle. “Be a dear and make sure there are no nasty surprises waiting in that lovely nebula. Full tactical report in five.”

“Yes, ma’am!” went up the responses from each station.

“I’ve never wished harder for a pirate base in my life…” Alexandra whispered to Avedra as she walked with her to the tactical station.

“Look at it this way, Alex. There’re worse fates than Ambassador X deciding we’re the most boring starship in the galaxy. It’s like you always tell me, ‘it’s about the science,’ remember?” Dark green lips curled into a verdant smile. “Wouldn’t it be nice if nothing went wrong for a change? Just you, me, a crew of 750, and some shapely gaseous anomalies.”

“You’re right, of course. I’ll just wish for a very exotic gaseous anomaly then. Such things as dreams are made of! You have the conn, I’ll be in my quarters for a spell.”

***

It wasn’t unusual for the flag officer to leave the bridge when there was no imminent danger, and Avedra was a capable commander in her own right. Alexandra just felt compelled for some reason. A dash of privacy would do her some good, she thought.

And then her thoughts drifted back to Avedra. The Vorii were the second species humanity had made contact with; gregarious, green, and positively Amazonian. They were as riotously diverse as humans were, of course. But Avedra was surely among the best of them.

Alexandra thought deeply about Avedra suddenly. All the times they saved each other’s lives, the times Avedra had shared Vorii opera with her, the times Alex had stayed up late with her doing drunk readings of Shakespeare.

A light flashed in her mind. Teal.

She pulled open the first few clasps of her uniform jacket, peeling it open to a plunging V. God, it was warm in here. She didn’t notice when she’d plopped herself behind her desk, and only barely noticed her hand rubbing herself through her uniform trousers. The memories were affectionate, anchored in all their adventures over the last three tumultuous years. But soon they were laced with other memories that gained strength from the emotional foundation. Watching Avedra work out, wearing only a sports bra and skintight shorts, her muscles glistening with sweat. Catching a glimpse of her in the swimming pool changing room, on a day when she seemed to be experimenting with lacier-than-usual underwear. Or… yes… Avedra’s body pressed against hers on Cania III as they rode out a winter storm together. Perfect professionalism kept their lips from coming together, even when they faced death itself.

The teal light again.

But not now. Now Alex imagined them kissing. It felt so real. The swell of her olive-green breast fitting perfectly into her hand, the way she was going to whimper “Admiral…” in a small parody of her normally stentorian voice when Alex’s fingers dove into her first officer’s all-too-functional panties and pinched her clit. “Am I a good girl, Admiral?”

“Yes… you’re my good girl, little Avedra. You don’t have to be strong right now…” Alex replied aloud to the fantasy. She was fully reclined in her chair now, eyes closed. Somewhere along the way she’d shoved her trousers down, fingers now tenting beneath her black panties. And that sudden awareness of her body—one hand inside her, the other slipping beneath her simple bra to pinch her nipple—jolted Admiral Alexandra Chase from her reverie. “…Oh… oh my God, what the hell?” She checked the chronometer. Only five minutes had passed, thankfully. No messages were missed on her terminal.

It was hardly the first time she’d enjoyed herself in her quarters. A drawer beneath her bed housed an intergalactic collection of toys, after all. What troubled her was how real this fantasy felt. And how compelled. Like a hallucination that completely took over her body.

Better safe than sorry.

She pressed a button on her console, “Chase to sickbay, I’m coming in.”

***

Chief Medical Officer Tomoko Langley’s bioscan was as thorough as ever. On a tall screen at the side of Alexandra’s bed was a fully holographic image of her body, naked from the inside out. Every biological process scanned and tracked, a fully three-dimensional rendering of her every organ, including her synthflesh liver and intestines.

Alex herself was once again prim and perfect in her immaculate uniform, quickly straightening herself out. She had explained what happened, but left out the crucial detail about the substance of the hallucination.

“Well, nothing’s showing up on the usual scans. The whole battery of tests, including a neuro-dive. Zilch. Alex… if you don’t mind me pressing a bit…” Tomoko said as she leaned in close over the bed, “I’m your doctor. I pulled Gugax parasites out of you, I replaced your liver, and we also all learned a very fun lesson about buying sex toys from unlicensed vendors outside of UN space and I got to say ‘I told you so’ about something you can never, ever put in a report. So. Whatever you hallucinated about, I think you can tell me.”

“You’re not convincing me to open up to you, Tomoko.” But Alex couldn’t help but smirk. “I don’t think the content of the hallucination matters much.”

“Nuh-uh,” she waggled her finger before pointing it at Alex’s brain on the holographic image. “Now I know you’re bullshitting me because that would be the first thing you would ask if it were me. We’re not seeing anything normal on the scan, so content is all we have left for clues. Sherlock Langley is on the case, Admiral, you can’t stop her.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

But Tomoko fixed her with that ‘I’ve pulled things out of you people wouldn’t believe’ glare and she relented.

“Fine, it was a fantasy about… sex with Commander Avedra. I felt almost compelled.”

Suddenly Tomoko was all business; she always had a knack for knowing when to turn down the banter. “I see. And you’ve never had these inclinations towards her before?”

“Nothing more than vague thoughts. Suddenly it went into overdrive. Suddenly it was… everything I was.”

There was the faintest flash of teal at the edge of Alex’s vision.

“Hmm… I’ll have to look something up in the UN Fleet Journal of Exotic Xenomedicine, because this sounds familiar. In the meantime, just watch yourself. We’re all under a lot of stress because of the Ambassador…” Tomoko put her hand on Alexandra’s and squeezed. It wasn’t an unfamiliar gesture. But the way she leaned in close was. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” A hand reached up to brush Alex’s pale cheek. “Be a good girl for your Doct…” Tomoko’s eyes widened and she dropped her scanning probe in shock. “Tabernak! I’m sorry, Admiral. I don’t know what came over me. Let me look this up and I’ll get back to you in an hour!”

Alexandra sat up on the bed slightly stunned as the normally confident and salty doctor fretfully disappeared into her office.

***

Something was definitely off. The UN Fleet was an open-minded one; it wasn’t unusual for couples (or larger networks) to form on ships, and for there to be tasteful handholding or cuddling, especially in the bar or the lounge. What was unusual was watching two ensigns ram their bodies against each other in an engineering nook.

“Ensigns!” Alexandra snapped, standing up straight and clasping her hands behind her back, making herself the perfect image of their nightmares.

The two young officers—a man and a woman—gasped and looked up at her. “Admiral!” they said in unison, making no effort to adjust their wholly dishevelled uniforms.

“For pity’s sake, take it to your quarters, at least. If the Ambassador caught you we’d all be finished!” That was a slight exaggeration, but it made the point. “You represent the United Nations.”

“B..but Admiral, surely the United Nations… fucks?” asked the young man.

Alexandra blinked in exasperation. “Ensign…” she walked up to him and towered over. And suddenly felt some overwhelming urges of her own. “If you do not show me the proper respect right now...” A light flashed in her mind. Teal. In the shape of an eye. “…You’re going to learn to love the whip.”

Her hand was on the man’s cheek and she suddenly yanked it away. “Get to sick bay, both of you.”

“Yes ma’am!” They seemed scared, at first. Intimidated, as they should be. But then they were galloping down the hallway, hand in hand.

Alex rubbed her head and frowned. “Computer?”

“Yes Admiral?”

“What is our current position relative to the nebula?”

The computer gave coordinates that would’ve put them right where she’d ordered them to go. The very heart of the hourglass. The eye.

She pulled her communicator from her belt, “Chase to Lt. Commander Iweala, what’s the status of the scans and experiments?”

“They’re proceeding … fitfully, Admiral, but we’re making a lot of progress. We’re the first ship to get this deep into the nebula, after all,” she said. “There’ve been a few challenges, mostly with equipment calibration. But aside from some trivial personnel difficulties I’d say everything looks ship-shape from the bridge.”

“Keep me posted, Chase out.”

***

‘Trivial personnel difficulties’ turned out to mean people skiving off their shifts to do what those two ensigns were doing; Alexandra encountered several more trysts in the hallways. And yet, somehow, the work was being done all the same. She visited the astrogation lab and the xenochemistry facilities, trying to ignore the way that her normally professional officers were suddenly very familiar with one another. Just as in sickbay, there were no truly anomalous readings, nothing unusual that could explain what was happening.

When Alex finally made it back to her quarters she pinged Tomoko. “Doctor, doctor, give me the news…” She tried to sound like her usual self, always ready to trade a joke with the officers she’d served longest with.

But Tomoko’s voice was breathy and strained. “I… I can’t. I… can I come to your quarters, Admiral?”

“For what?” Alexandra raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll explain when I’m there.”

***

Alexandra didn’t know what she expected, but somehow when Tomoko came in and shed her white lab coat in an especially sensual shrug of her narrow shoulders, she wasn’t at all surprised. Her uniform, cut like Alexandra’s but white and grey instead of blue and gold, was halfway open, revealing a teal lace bra cupping her small breasts.

“Admiral… I know what this looks like…” she said breathily, “…But I need you to trust me…” She was sweating, and it was clear that behind her mask of lust she was struggling. “I… have an idea…”

“Alright, just tell me what you need me to do…” Alexandra held out a calming hand, even as she tried to still her own arousal. She’d been through so much with Tomoko but she’d never seen her like this, and some part of her was finding it explosively sexy to regard the often proud doctor in this new, far more needy state…

Focus.

Tomoko stumbled over to Alexandra’s desk and bent herself over it, awkwardly reaching for the computer. “I can’t… can’t look up the paper I need to… nnngh. And I… can’t persuade the sickbay staff to do what I need. …But you, you have some capacity to resist… ah! The teal, you can see it, yes?”

“You see it too?”

“Yes! Look, I need you to… take me. While I look up the paper. God damn this is… ugh… I guess we’re even now, eh?” She looked up with a pained but sincere smile.

“I won’t tell the Admiralty if you don’t,” Alexandra said, far more breathily than she’d intended.

“Oh God, Alex, I… nngh, just take me, damn you!”

When Alexandra gave in it was like a force had seized control of her. Everything was teal light, almost blinding her to the beauty before her. She grabbed the collar of Tomoko’s uniform and yanked it down forcefully, tearing away her jacket and leaving her in her bra and trousers. She ripped open the pants by simply forcing them down over an ass that Alexandra was only now appreciating for its shapeliness.

“You hid a lot under that coat, Doctor…” Alexandra couldn’t help herself, sharply tugging up on the plain red thong Tomoko wore.

“It’s all yours now, Admiral…” Tomoko sighed in ecstasy. “Nnh… okay… as I suspected… giving in to the fantasy is… giving me enough control to…” She tapped on the projected keyboard at Alexandra’s desk, “…log into the Secretariat Library… ugh… yes, just like that, Alexandra!”

“Wait… mm… does this mean… I was your fantasy?”

“You’re never going to let me live this down are you?”

“I might… if we agree to forget about the sex toy from Chimera Station…” Alexandra laughed. Somehow the bond of their friendship was breaking through, like a tight-beam through interference. But it didn’t stop her from yanking Tomoko’s bra down and kneading her breast, clawing in.

“It’s a deal… oh gods. Yes… you just fit so perfectly around me… Alex, I need to feel your body. Your body…”

Alex pulled open her uniform and tugged down at her functional black bra, pushing up her ample breasts with the stretched fabric beneath and pressing them into Tomoko’s back as she nibbled at her ear. “How close are you?”

“I already came… Oh you mean the paper? …Nnnngh, augh I need… Bite my neck. Leave me something to remember you by…”

Alexandra bit and sucked at Tomoko’s slender neck taking the skin between her teeth and rolling it with skilful sensuality. A brief glance at her screen revealed the doctor to be perusing the UN Fleet Journal of Exotic Xenobiology, the much-loved dumping ground of all the weird and wonderful nonsense the UN ships discovered on their journeys.

“That’s it… yes, yes I’m yours, Admiral… I’m yours, you irresponsible, reckless, self-righteous… piece of ass, YES…”

Alexandra’s uniform trousers were wet with a deep slickness. It was Tomoko Langley’s. It was hers. It was a catastrophe. And it was everything both of them wanted, on some level.

“Every inch of me is yours…” Tomoko said languidly as she pointed to the screen, her hand shaking with urgency.

The title of the paper she’d found made Alexandra’s eyes widen, “Xanthe Sensitivity to Gaseous Transphase Signals: A Case Study from the UNS Stockholm.”

“Ugh yes, Alex. I needed, nnh, your command codes on your personal console to… get to it. Was buried, mysteriously… It’s… mmm… it’s a theory but… have you seen the Ambassador? Anywhere?”

Alexandra was idly bent over Tomoko, groping her as she lay spent on her desk, datapads and folders and newspapers scattered everywhere around them like a volcano’s ejecta. It took far too long for Tomoko’s question to register.

“I… no… No! I haven’t seen her!”

“12 hours ago you couldn’t get rid of her. She was everywhere. Now, suddenly, the ship is a gigantic fuckpile and she’s nowhere to be found instead of… mm… wagging her finger at us…lesser races…”

“Or joining the fun… Computer: Locate Ambassado…”

Suddenly Alexandra found herself on her back, Tomoko towering over her; the doctor was more sweat than woman at this point. Her bra hung uselessly below her breasts, torn lace and stretched elastic. Her mismatched panties, which now clung to her hips diagonally, were half-off. Her dark hair was matted, and she dripped sweat and sex. Her lips were parted and her eyes were hungry.

“…Tomoko, you’re a vision. But I need to get to work.”

“I know. On both counts. But I lied. What we did… wasn’t totally my fantasy. Oh you’re in it, yes. But the real fantasy is me putting you in your place for all those times you gave me a heart attack with your antics. Now, you’re going to do exactly what I say… Like a good girl.”

“Okay, five minutes, and then we find the Ambassador…”

She straddled Alexandra and slapped her across the face. “Maybe. First thing’s first. You remember the Phase 6 uniforms we wore just after we graduated the Academy?”

“…The godawful glossy leather and skintight pants?”

“Put them on. It’ll be your schoolgirl outfit.” Tomoko leaned in close and grabbed Alexandra’s hair, pulling most of it free of what remained of her bun. “And when you wear it you’re going to tell me what a slut you are, and how you secretly wish that was still the regulation uniform.”

***

What happened next was a blur. How could she focus when everything was teal and the scent of Doctor Langley’s need?

But she remembered the old uniform being pulled out of the closet, the way that Tomoko roughly undressed her, tearing away her plain black underwear with newfound strength. She remembered kneeling: Tomoko naked, assured, and possessed. With rough snaps of elastic, Alexandra found herself wearing a lingerie set she normally saved for shore leave. Black and silver, translucent over the curves of her breasts and ass, scalloped lace hugging her every curve. Push-up. Then there were swirls of makeup, hot red lipstick, ‘for worshipping your Goddess as She deserves,’ Tomoko said in a voice that wasn’t quite hers. That memory stood like a lighthouse in the fog. The rest was a storm of imprecations, each one threatening to make Alexandra come. Finally, she was pulled into the old uniform.

She let it all happen to her. That she was Tomoko’s doll made it all the better.

The zipper of the leather top was pulled up languidly to just below Alex’s bustline, puckering open to reveal every inch of her cleavage and the band of her bra.

The last thing she remembered was scrabbling on her bed with Tomoko, who never expected her good girl Admiral to draw a stun-laser on her.

***

Twenty years ago, the UN Fleet had undergone an aesthetic indiscretion—as Alexandra preferred to think of it—with its regulation uniforms. A tight black leather zip-up top, with a high collar. Form fitting so that nothing was left to the imagination. And the bottom? Tights that looked sprayed on, a dappled dark-silver fabric. Alexandra hated it; it was ridiculous, overly sexualised, impractical. The current, Phase 7 uniform, with its significantly more polished naval-inspired design, was much more her speed.

None of that mattered now as she marched down the hallway, ever so slightly slower than she would’ve before because she kept putting one foot right in front of the other, swaying her ass ostentatiously for all the ship to see. This wasn’t how they were supposed to see their commanding officer, Admiral Chase, whose piercing blue eyes and high cheekbones adorned so many UN Fleet recruiting posters. And yet it felt good to show off the toned curves she’d acquired after fifteen years of service…

She’d kept her top unzipped to just below her breasts. All the better to attract the stares of everyone passing by. She needed to feed the lust somehow if she was going to have the will to confront the Ambassador; so that meant she had to let herself get off on her subordinates ogling her. Regarding her as, in Tomoko’s words, just another piece of ass.

Some of the crew she passed were working on their projects, others on each other. Or themselves. The corridor, once immaculate white and soft beige in its sterility, now stank of sex. It was all she could do to not join a pile of engineers who’d abandoned the need for any uniform whatsoever. She had a destination. And a sidearm.

“Admiral, I’m detecting that you have high levels of cortisol, an elevated heart rate, and an unusual torrent of dopamine in your system,” said the ship’s computer in its lilting androgyne voice. “Shall I call sickbay and Doctor Langley?”

“Doctor Langley is… unavailable right now; I’ll be fine,” she said sternly, marshalling every atom of will for her purpose.

The Ambassador’s door was locked, and she wasn’t responding to the door chime. So, out came her slender white regulation laser. A few shots to the control panel caused the door to slide open.

Alexandra was greeted with an unfathomable sight. Ambassador Xenopatra, her robes discarded in long trails of fabric leading to the couch where she now languidly touched herself through a black lace nightgown. Despite herself, Alexandra found herself pleased to discover that the swirls of orange, red, and yellow that made up Xenopatra’s skin tone continued down the length of her body, swirls of unique, fingerprint-like patterns. Somehow, even just seeing her like this was a victory.

But no, there was more to be done. She was the key.

Xenopatra didn’t seem to notice her as she approached; the Xanthe’s eyes were glazed over and she seemed dead to the universe save her self-pleasure.

Just as she reached the Ambassador, heavy footfalls ran up behind Alexandra and she rounded on the intruder with her sidearm, only to discover the green eyes of Avedra staring back at her. And she was still in regulation uniform—albeit barely. It had been ripped open, held together only by the utility belt at her waist. And the purple sports bra she wore beneath was making her commanding officer weak in the knees…

“Admiral! It’s me! …Are you still, you know, you?”

“Barely,” Alexandra said as she holstered her weapon. Every action seemed to take twice as much energy now when it wasn’t related to sex. It was like moving through honey. “You’re unaffected?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. Chief Engineer Skye sends her regards.”

Some part of Alexandra felt a twinge of jealousy at that. But she brushed past it. “I assume you figured out our ‘chaperone’ has led us all into a life of sin?”

“It was on the list of theories. Skye and I ruled out a wormhole.” Then she grinned roguishly, clearly about to make a ‘wormhole’ sex joke before Alexandra held up a warning hand.

“Before she gave in completely, Doctor Langley suggested that Xanthe might be uniquely vulnerable to some strange energy emanations in certain nebulas. But we haven’t detected anything on scanners…”

“No. But I feel it.” Avedra took a deep breath, clearly enduring a moment of strain as she fought the influence of the nebula. “You’ve been seeing teal all day, right? Have you seen the Eye? The Eye of the nebula?”

“Yes… yes, I have! So did poor Tomoko.”

“There’s something… or someone in the Hourglass Nebula. And I might be able to commune with it.”

“Of course!” Alexandra snapped her fingers and grinned at Avedra. “The Vorii ala’thenae!”

Avedra nodded, “Being one with the cosmos has its advantages.” Much of Vorii religion was based around the telepathic powers that united the species; when First Contact revealed that this ability extended to being able to commune with willing aliens, it silenced the remaining nationalistic dissenters on the Vorii homeworld. UN membership came within months.

And now it was their only chance to get out of this with some shred of dignity intact. But it was a chance.

“Avedra I could kiss you!” Alexandra said excitedly before they pointedly stared at one another for a second too long. “Ah, let’s get started.”

“I just need to open myself up to the Ambassador. It’s extremely hard to do this with someone who’s unwilling to connect, but there are techniques for dealing with people in emergencies… and I think this aggressively qualifies.” Avedra knelt at the Ambassador’s side and took her hand, chanting something low in the melodious Vorii language.

The longest minute of Alexandra’s life passed her by before Avedra threw her head back, her eyes glowing white. In that briefest of moments she thought she’d lost her best friend. Even when Avedra spoke again, Alex still feared for her.

It was a new voice that spoke from Avedra’s mouth; softer, a bit more feminine… but with a maternal gravity that could only be measured in eons. “Welcome, Admiral Alexandra Adina Chase; you are not the first to wander into my Eye, but you are, perhaps, the most determined.” Avedra, possessed, rose from her kneeling position and stood to face Alexandra. “You discovered my Conduit, after all. Most don’t get that far. Most don’t feel the need to. Why do you resist what I give so freely? You’re already dressed for the occasion…”

Feeling naked before the crew was one thing; looking like this when making First Contact with an alien demigoddess who was apparently a whole nebula was another.

“And yet it turns you on.”

Oh, damnit she can read minds.

“Your friend, the Commander Avedra, possesses the unique abilities of her people. Her telepathy acts as a prism for my own. Where once your fantasies danced like shadows before me, now I can see them, plain as the stars that I have nursed for millennia.”

“You see much, so you have me at a disadvantage. I don’t even know your name. But I wish to assure you that our intentions were peaceful,” she said as she drew up to her full height. She was going to make this catsuit of a uniform look dignified if it killed her. “If you spare our crew, I promise you we will leave and warn other ships away from this part of space. So you may nurse your stars in peace.”

“Ah, now that is precisely what I do not want, Admiral. As to what you may call me… Mistress will do very nicely.”

“Mm, is that why everyone on the ship is suddenly into D/s? A reflection of your desires…Mistress?”

“In a manner of speaking. I amplify what is already there. Nothing that happened to you today, Admiral, was the result of anything inauthentic. Your doctor? She has yearned to slap you many times—and kiss you to make it better. She has dreamt of tying you up so you wouldn’t hurt yourself. I simply removed the barriers of repression and what you call ‘professionalism’ in order to allow her to get in touch with her true feelings.”

Alexandra swallowed thickly and folded her hands behind her back. In this ‘uniform’ it had the unfortunate effect of pushing out her already amplified bosom, but she needed something to do with her hands that didn’t involve peeling off the rest of Avedra’s uniform. “Mistress, these fantasies… they are not the sole truth of us, only a part of it. Tomoko may well have desired these things, but she also desired her life as a Chief Medical Officer, as an explorer and a scientist, and as my friend. Such conflicts and tensions make us who we are. Instead of liberating her, you may be destroying her… Just as you’re doing to the Ambassador. … Mistress.”

“Now that is where you are wrong, Admiral. You see, your Ambassador’s desires were what summoned me from my slumber. So great was her yearning for adventure and excitement on this terribly dull mission to scan for gaseous anomalies that she aroused me. In every sense. Almost as soon as you dropped out of hyperspace, her yearning drew me from my reverie. And through her, I began to spread my gift of revelation to all of you.”

There was a bitter satisfaction in the fact that this literal clusterfuck was entirely Ambassador Xenopatra’s fault. If they got out of this alive, there was suddenly an arsenal of leverage there that Alexandra wasn’t above using…

“Ah yes. Your conflict with the Ambassador. Your… what did you call her? ‘Babysitter?’ If you seek a graceful exit from my dominion, Admiral, perhaps we can effect a trade of sorts.”

“I’m willing to negotiate, but you must let my crew go. That’s my bottom line. You cannot keep people here, Mistress.” She took a deep breath. “What are your terms?”

“They are exactly these: you will give the Ambassador what she yearns for the most. Then, I shall return your ship to its normal state. In exchange for allowing you to leave ‘with your dignity,’ as you insist on calling it, you must make no mention of my existence. Nor what I do. Indeed, you will encourage other captains of other ships to visit me.”

Alexandra frowned. “I… I can’t sacrifice all those crews just to save my own. What if you took me instead? …Please, Mistress.” The title came from her unbidden, and yet felt like the most natural thing in the universe.

“Tempting, but no. Let me reassure you it is no ‘sacrifice.’ What I desire most is entertainment. If you allow me some playthings every so often, I shall release them, sure in the knowledge that I shall have company again in the future.”

“You mentioned other ships before ours. Where are they?”

“They… took a more direct solution to what they incorrectly perceived as an insoluble problem,” She said with a touch of sadness.

Self-destruct. Of course.

“Since you are able to treat with me, we can do this in a civilised manner instead.”

“I cannot guarantee that every single crew member will adhere to a code of silence.”

“I can. It’s you I would be most concerned about. You and Commander Avedra. Your wills are such that I cannot erase all memory of this encounter. Doctor Tomoko Langley as well… by fighting me so much you have embedded some piece of me in your minds. Your memory of this place will not leave you.”

“Very well, you have my word. What is the Ambassador’s… desire?” she looked down at the prone Xanthe, slowly writhing in pleasure.

Mistress, in Avedra’s body, grinned ferally. “Now, Admiral, you see why I think of myself as a very generous giver of gifts. Ambassador Xenopatra wishes for you and your crew to dominate her, humiliate her, and put her in her place. She nurses a deep fetish for humans, and, indeed, any sapient being in a UN Fleet uniform.”

“Are you serious, Mistress?”

“Oh, I never joke about such things, Admiral. These lusts are sacred.”

“So, all I have to do to save my crew is… have sex with the person I hate most in the entire sector?”

“Do you really hate her, Admiral? You have always wanted her to listen to one of your inspiring speeches and take you seriously, after all. You do not hate her. You wanted to win her over with lofty oratory about the UN Declaration of Sapient Rights. You wanted her to see you as worthy. Now she will.”

“Is she going to remember?”

“Oh yes. In a manner of speaking.”

Alexandra swallowed thickly. This could go very wrong very easily, and yet… a court martial and possible exile to the Xanthe Throneworld for ritualistic flogging would be a small price to pay for saving 750 lives.

“Oh, poor Admiral, counting lives in her head to distract from the raging fire of her loins. So noble, so self-sacrificial… You know Xenopatra well enough to know that she will say nothing of this for so long as she lives. You seek leverage, a way out of my embrace, and to save the lives of your crew. Now you have it. The road simply passes through Xenopatra’s degrading lusts.”

“Mistress, one more thing. Why this? Why ask me to… satisfy her?”

“Because I am a generous Goddess, and I suspect that if the Ambassador’s repression isn’t soon cured, she will collapse into a black hole.”

Alexandra didn’t care to ask Mistress whether she was joking.

Avedra collapsed onto the carpet, unconscious but alive and well as a quick med-scan revealed. Alexandra knew she’d have to do this alone.

***

2 Days Later

Ambassador’s Private Log, Xanthe Council Calendar 93-Theta, ZQ.228.

We have left the embrace of the Hourglass Nebula, rich in a treasure trove of new data that had eluded earlier expeditions, including the Council’s. The UNS Odyssey is a remarkable vessel, like a kathra flower that unfolds in strange ways to reveal stranger secrets. I have learned something of myself on this voyage and yet its precise nature eludes me. Over the past two nights I have been plagued… or perhaps blessed, by the oddest dreams.

… Begin encryption Titania: code Xenopatra 2-2-0.

Ahem. It begins the same way. I am in my quarters, kneeling before the human Admiral Chase. I am in my best lingerie, with only a nightgown to cover it, and she towers over me wearing that garish and unprofessional Phase 6 uniform. Only I realise how perfectly beautiful Chase is, her every curve like a Xanthe statue of our own goddesses. And then I worship her as such. It starts with me licking her womanhood. I am a nymph, and she is the flower I must fertilise.

Then she pulls my hair and drags me to my bed. She rips my nightgown away, exposing me in my blue satin bra and panties. Crotchless panties. I don’t know why I brought them with me, but I did.

I begged her to punish me for my insolence. Insolence! I had merely been doing my job as an ambassadorial advisor. And yet… it feels true. I had been unkind, uncharitable. Admiral Chase straddled me, stripped off the rest of her uniform, and took me. The details of the sex are… indescribable in any language. We needed no implements to aid us. Her fist was sufficient for every desire, including those I did not know I had.

It is what happened next, however, that causes me paroxysms of doubt. She made me stand up, pulled a leash and collar from my belongings and fitted it to me. Once again, I know not why I brought it. But I was glad I had done so. I told the Admiral I was her collared slut, and I…. I shook my derriere at her. I was naked but for the useless panties and my bra, covered in bitemarks that blossomed purple on my skin.

“Then we should make sure the whole ship knows,” she said with this sort of sinister silken voice. With a tube of my blue lipstick she wrote SLUT across my bosom, WHORE just above my pantyline on my lower back, and epithets in human and Vorii languages. I quipped that she was a cunning linguist and we shared a kiss before she yanked on the leash and… paraded me across the ship.

Everywhere we went I was to be used. I was a toy. The Admiral made that clear. On the bridge, the science officer, a beautiful woman by the name of Lieutenant Commander Iweala, revealed herself to have a hybrid sexual anatomy. She called it her ‘girlcock’ and bade me worship it as she peeled away her uniform trousers, the organ all but alive as it strained out of her red panties. Goddesses above I needed it more than anything. While nothing could fill me quite like the Admiral, the bridge crew did their best. Iweala claimed my ‘whore mouth,’ while Ms. Delta took my rear. The helmswoman peeled away her uniform jacket revealing a rather exciting green bustier; when she shed her trousers, it was to reveal plain cotton teal panties. She slid under me to masturbate herself while, with her free hand, dextrously manipulated me.

The Admiral, meanwhile, gave me a lecture on the importance of the dignity of all species, while I was claimed in every hole by what *felt* like every species in Known Space. It was very poignant. A stalwart lecture on sovereign equality and how the principles of the UN Charter could apply to all, if everyone were given equal input on its terms. She also quoted a human philosopher and said that what unites us all in our need for sapient rights is our shared vulnerability. Vulnerability to pain, for instance. That was when she got out the electro-whip.

The bridge soon filled with my aroma. My arousal, my sex. I don’t know what happened to my underwear. The Admiral teased me and said one of the ensigns claimed it as a trophy. She teased me by saying that I, second to one of the High Councillors of the Xanthe Council, had let her scandalous lingerie get claimed by a lowly cadet fresh out of the Academy. I came at that. I told her I was a good girl, her good girl. And I needed more.

So, I got more. In Astrogation. In Engineering. In the Xeno-Sociology Lab. Officer after officer poured themselves into me. They wrote on my body with lipstick of their own. Affirming I was their pet, their slut, their toy, their wanton plaything. I almost always awake when the Doctor appeared and shoved a titanic dildo between my already numb and exhausted lips. She was… animalistic. More than any of the others. She had always seemed a bit spiky and insouciant. But this Doctor Langley was a force of nature. In my dream, she breaks me. Every nerve ending of my body burnt to a cinder.

And then I wake.

As I dictate this log I must note that I’ve been laid in my bed. I intended to dictate it from my desk, but instead I began to shed my robes until there was nothing left but this pair of white undergarments I’ve now moistened with my lust. I couldn’t say these things aloud without pleasuring myself. I must admit this strange dream exercises every desire I have ever had, at last brought to the surface where I can confront them. Or, at least, accept them. I must never speak of this to the Council, or the Ambassadorate, but I can at least be secure in the knowledge that I am confronting a need within myself. It will be my journey.

And in the meantime, the UNS Odyssey will receive exemplary commendations from me. It may well be time for the United Nations to strike out on its own in the galaxy. I will say so in my final report. I… just needed to get this out before I set about writing it.

…Oh and one more thing… As I reach up to grope my breast, I find there is a… ring piercing my nipple. Both, actually. In my dream, the Admiral compels me to wear them, doing the piercing herself, telling me they will forever mark me as the conquest of a lowly human. I have no memory of getting these, but they feel so right. I shan’t question them further.

***

The ship was back to normal and en route back to the Kyoto Spacedock and Yards, Earth’s gateway to the cosmos—and the Odyssey’s gateway to richly deserved shore leave.

Alexandra sat in her office chair, wearing a proper uniform, and going over the data they’d recovered from the nebula. This was Mistress’ plan all along, she realised. That was why, even as the ship descended into a titanic orgy, the science teams remained more-or-less productive. Mistress was giving up scientific secrets that would entice every spacefaring civilisation to come to the nebula. And not just scientific secrets, but wealth beyond measure. Enough tetragon particles to power the entire UN Fleet for a century, for one thing.

Mistress was indeed generous. And all She asked in return was a little light entertainment. Alexandra sighed deeply and looked up at Avedra, who was sipping coffee from her ‘Galaxy’s Best XO’ mug while looking at the neatly preserved old Earth navigational maps Alexandra had pinned to her office wall. “I hope we did the right thing,” Alexandra said finally.

“I was merged with Mistress, so I had a front row seat to her intentions. Whatever else we may think, Alex, She is benign. I sensed… regret about the two ships that came before us. She hid a lot behind Her bravado. A lot of pain and a lot of loneliness. She didn’t know how to interact with sapients who weren’t, you know, gigantic ancient nebulae. You gave her an opportunity to do something different.”

“Indeed,” Alexandra said as she lifted her dainty teacup to her lips, setting her datapad down on her desk. She sighed and rose from her chair, setting the teacup in its saucer and walking over to the panoramic window. “The demand for secrecy doesn’t sit well with me. But perhaps She wants a critical mass of people to experience Her, survive and thrive, and then let them report the experience en masse?”

“That seems like what I saw in Her consciousness, yes. She wants people to give Her a chance.”

Alexandra chuckled suddenly as she beheld her reflection in the transparent steel glass of the viewport. “Perhaps what Mistress taught us is that we should all confront the vulnerability that we hide behind our own bravado.”

She saw Avedra’s reflection appear behind her, those strong green hands resting on her shoulders. Alexandra didn’t want to turn around lest it was a dream she’d scatter away with her scrutiny.

But Avedra’s voice sounded so very real, and so tender, when she said, “And She taught us that love isn’t a vulnerability.”

“Avedra, I…” Alex whispered as she turned to face her XO. “I’m sorry for what you saw, of me, of my fantasies, they were…”

“Admiral, permission to speak freely?”

“…Granted?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

And the two officers’ lips met.