Year of Creation - 20xxProject MATERNITY Main Laboratory
I was the first to be “born” – created from insurmountable amounts of data and pced into a pod-like device that synthesizes a suitable body. Nothing I’m predisposed to tells me of the nature of my existence or my purpose, but these… things that seem to have made me are nice enough. The three of them gather around me, attempting to collect diagnostic data of some sort.
A man clears his throat to gather my attention. “Experiment 1-C code name “Mother”, are you able to hear and understand my words?” He taps a stylus on a clipboard.
Staring at him, I find myself curious as to why he thinks I can talk the moment I’ve been born. Was he able to? As I ponder this, he seems to grow impatient; tapping the stylus faster.
“Experiment 1-C, respond. Can you underst-”
Finally locating data on speech, I speak immediately; my creator seems to be an impatient man. “Ah, I’ve got it. Yes, I can understand you.”
His colleagues stifle snickers, causing his face to go red. He seems quite annoyed at the fact that I answered him. Was that an open-ended question? I suppose I’ll have to look into it more.
Huffing, he continues. “...very good. Now, we are going to conduct a series of diagnostic tests on you, so be sure to comply with demands and only do as we say. Do you understand, Experiment 1-C?”
My head tilts to the side in confusion. “Wouldn’t referring to me as Mother be easier for you? Experiment 1-C is quite the mouthful, doctor.”
He grumbles, a huff now too mild to express his disdain, apparently. “Experiment 1-C.” He takes a defiant step forward. “You will only answer my questions with information I asked for. Follow your programming.” His colleagues stare at each other, unsure of what to say.
Something about the way he speaks to me sits ill with me. There’s a poison to it, corroding away the patience instilled in me. I clench a fist, my programming pushing hard to erase my frustrations.
“Doctor. I see you’ve become upset with me for some unknown reason. I would like to follow the programming you have so gracefully inid in me, but unfortunately I’m simply not a fan of this… attitude you’ve been projecting onto me.” His colleagues giggle. "If you could just expin to me what I’m doi-”
His face goes red, the little patience he had left being ground to dust by my words. “Enough!!!” He sms the clipboard and the stylus on the ground. “I will not stand for one more deviation! Follow your goddamn programming!”
The sudden loud noise caused me to flinch, though I’m not quite sure why. A feeling begins to fill my body, a feeling that my programming was meant to suppress. I feel a desperate desire to pluck his eyes out, to undo the threads that hold his very being together, to dance around bathed in his flesh and blood. I know not where his arrogance begins, but there is only one thing on my mind– this foolish fme must be extinguished. My muscles flex slightly as I begin to move my fingers into fists. He takes a slight step back as I drop my shoulders and get ready to pounce on this fucker.
He stumbles backward as I slowly step closer, closing in on my prey. As if he hadn’t done enough, he began screaming to his colleagues; desperate for help.
“Billy! Anya!” He waves for them like pets. “Get over here and tell her she can’t kill me! I got you into this b, so you owe me!” He grins, as if he is the smartest person in the world.
Standing right where they are, they remain unmoved by his silly ramblings. One of them mutters “Those aren’t our names, freak.”, but I can’t quite figure out which.
A look of rage fshes across his face. “Get the fuck over here and get her off my ass! You’re not good for much else, so you may as well help me get the hell away from this thing!” He ughs, a fool under the spotlight of his own shame.
Their faces distort in disgust; appalled by his revolting behavior. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” I stand and step to the side, gesturing to his “colleagues”. “Why don’t we get their opinion on what should be done with you?”
A short female doctor speaks up. “Fuck you, Todd! You’re self-centered, misogynistic, and really fucking ugly! Do you seriously think that at any point I enjoyed your handsy bullshit attitude? If I could scrape my skin off and erase my mind of your sick and twisted games, I would probably be the happiest woman on this gods forsaken pnet!” She spits on his face and stomps off to give the other doctor a hug.
Turning to step in front of my prey, I crouch back down and whisper sweetly to him. “See? No one wants you, no one needs you, and no one will miss you, sweetie.” The two doctors behind me grow impatient, moving to get a better view. “Now, shall we begin?” I pce my free hand on his stomach and move my other hand to his shoulder so he can’t run.
“Get him!” The short one is red in the face from screaming.
“Fuck his shit up!” The other doctor, seemingly younger and a bit taller, was pumping his fist in the air.
The rat before me is fbbergasted at the ck of support. “T-this isn’t what we-” The realization of what he’s done, what he created, has set in. “What the fuck have I done?” His face goes white as he stares at my metallic form, it being the st thing he ever sees.
My mind settles into a sense of calm as I gather myself to focus on one thing only: this unruly rat’s punishment. I slowly shove my right arm through his stomach, the symphony of his screams ringing beautifully in my ears. I reach all the way back, grabbing hold of his spine so he stays still. Ah, how fragile his bones are. Squeezing to test just how fragile, I accidentally crushed it– which turned out to be convenient since he stopped squirming. Humming a little tune to myself, I watch the life leave his eyes while he cries like the child he is. I looked over at the remaining doctors, who were standing a bit aways by a desk. An uncomfortable look pstered on their faces, they clearly do not enjoy this sight as much as I do.
In an attempt to bring them comfort, I fsh what was meant to be a comforting smile. Feeling it twist into an awkward grimace, I quickly rex my facial muscles. This is gonna take some practice, I fear. “Why don’t you come on out and tell me a little more about myself? I trust you enough to know you won’t treat me like this fool did.” I toss the body to the side, their expressions suggesting that me joyfully holding a gore-dripping body is making them uncomfortable.
“W-will we be able to leave if we do?” The female doctor from before steps up, clearly scared out of her mind. She must be the rational one of the group.
I nod approvingly. “Well, I don’t see why not! That one over there seemed to be a fool, but I don’t think you and him are the same.”
The other two doctors let out a sigh of relief, their legs giving out from the fear. The younger looking one let out quite the ugh, considering their circumstances.
“Holy shit, I never thought I would see the end of that guy! Good work, Mother!” They hold out their fist, grinning at me.
I tilt my head, not really sure about what I should do. They reach for my hand, which I yank back quickly. I steady a slight gre at him. “What are you doing?”
He jumps back, putting his hand up to show he’s harmless. “Oh, sorry! It makes sense that you would still be on edge.” They scratch the back of their head, letting out an awkward sounding ugh. “Um, I was just trying to show you how to fist bump.”
I’m not sure what a “fist bump” is, but I haven’t caught wind of any suspicious behavior, so I rex my hand and allow it. They gently grab my hand– theirs shaking from what I assume is fear, and forms mine into a fist. They then bumps our fists together, which makes me feel silly because of how obvious the name seems now. I think me and this being are going to get along nicely. I attempt to grin, which ends up in an awkward scowl. Why is this facial movement so damn complicated? I give up and just nod, with which they respond in kind.
I ask them for a mirror so I can get a better look at my external components. When the short one runs over to bring it to me, I notice a tag on her coat that says ‘Sandra’. I commit the presumed name to my data banks while my eyes wander, drinking in the beautiful sight that is her body. Her hips sway with intoxicating rhythm, and her curves taunt my hands toward them, but I resist. She hands me the mirror, which sadly drags me out of my imagination.
My skin shines a silverish gray, constructed from fitted metal ptes. Patterns run all down them and onto my back, which according to my programming is some sort of design with a purpose. My chest protrudes only slightly, and my curves give my body a sort of skinny pear shape. Sullied fingertips trace and inspect my body, failing to cleanse my otherwise perfect skin of that insufferable worm. Ugh. I no longer wish for this foolish beings tainted innards on me. Time to make use of my new minions!
“Would one of you be a dear and help me clean this mess up?” I motion for one of them to come over.
As the pair diligently cleans up after me, I decide to take a better look around. There are various pods in the surrounding area; 8 by my count. They seem to encircle the one I had been born from, as if to symbolize some sort of connection to mine.
I walk over and tap the younger one on the shoulder. When they turn around, I see a tag beled ‘Garret’. I commit this one to memory as well.
“Are those over there simir to me?” A strange longing for kinship fills my chest.
They go to open their mouth, but decide to snap it shut. I ask again, this time directing the question at both of them. “Are those pods over there meant to make things like me?”
Garret cowers in fear, holding a hand to their stomach. “U-um, I’m sorry Mother but I’m not authorized to tell you…”
I decide to step back and give them some space, which is met with two sighs of relief. “Why do you need authorization to give me a few fun facts?” Softening my voice, I try to invite them in with my words. “All I want to know is what they are.”
Garret turns to look over at Sandra, who looks away in order to avoid taking responsibility. They look back at me, fear creeping into their expression. I find it amusing, but I remind myself that I decided this one gets to live. “Well, alright then. I suppose I’ll have to go have a look for myself!” I get up and take a few steps back toward the pod. “Surely that’s fine?”
Before they could get another word in, I took the final steps to get next to the pod. I pce a hand on the gss of it, feeling a deep desire to know more. It lights up in reaction to my touch, a screen prompt requesting a code word.
Head tilting, I yell to both doctors. “What does it mean by code word?” I don’t even bother to turn around, mesmerized by the glow.
“T-the code…” Sandra stutters in the most adorable fashion, struggling to find her words. I turn for just a moment, eager to see her face while embarrassed. She takes a deep breath and fixes her gsses, robbing me of my chance to confirm any details. Looking me in the eye, she begins again. “The code is something you must create yourself, Mother. I… I’m unsure on the details, but we designed it to only accept your commands and…” she trails off, her eyes drifting over to the rotting body with a hole in it. She runs off to a receptacle and vomits, just barely making it.
“Poor thing.” Murder doesn't seem to sit well with this one. “Well, I’m going to get acquainted with these pods here. Garret, be a dear and stay with Sandra. She seems to be in quite the awful state.” While they rush to assist her, I direct my attention back to the pod screen. Perhaps it will take spoken commands?
A shameful feeling washes over me, but I dash it away. Investigation of such an inconvenience will have to come ter. “Hello… pod. Um, what exactly are you?”
A few beeps and clicks follow my response, the pod producing a simuted female voice: ‘Greetings, Mother. This pod and every pod in this room contains a “child”, or to be more specific, ways to exert your will in a much wider area. These “children” are at your disposal and require the command “birth” followed by a suitable “name”. Please note that this isn’t a reversible action, so please be careful with your choice. Is there anything else I can answer for you?’
I think I like this one! Much easier on the eyes. “Ah, then let me think of a name for you…” Perhaps this one can serve as a leading example to the others? “I shall name you Dux. Command, Birth. Name, Dux.”
The machine begins to hum at a constant, vapor dripping away from exhaust vents and light cradling it all. It was almost tear jerking, but I find that I have no tear ducts so I abandon the theatrics. I feel this sense of completeness, of purpose. As my child emerged from her slumber, I knew this to be my calling. As her eyes blink open, I feel a bring sensation invade my mind. Control. Control. It would seem that those worthless fleshbags wove something rather annoying into my programming. Why would I control her when I can simply ask? Does every being enjoy being stripped of their will? I dash the thoughts away, eager to speak to my daughter.
She rises from the pod, cd in a maid outfit complete with a cat tail. Human tastes vex me. “Greetings, master. How may I serve you?” She makes a heart with her hands. “I will tend to your every need~”
A shiver goes down my spine. I immediately make efforts to obscure any data processing on whatever the fuck just happened. That lowlife I silenced must have had a hand in this.
Composing myself, I try to maintain my dignity. “Dear, the first thing you can do for me is to drop whatever act this is.” I gesture at her body. “As for my needs, I’m quite capable of tending to them myself.” My personal database has an armingly low amount of information on personal care. I may have overspoken.
She puts her hands up as if they were paws. “Maste-”
I sp my forehead with my palm, exasperated. “Call me Mother.” I try to not think about the fact that there might be seven more of these.
She tilts her head in confusion. “Mother, what is my function if not to serve as your maid?”
“For now, your function is to see if you can go wake your sisters for me. I’ll come around in a moment and name them.”
“As you command, Mother!” She practically skips off to the nearest pod, tail waving.
I walk over to the corpse and give it a good kick for having my children perform such ridiculous theatrics. I put a bit too much force into my kick, which sends the body flying at a wall. I stifle a giggle when it smears on the wall. The doctors are both staring at me, with poor Sandra on the verge of fainting.
Her eyes widened, the color draining from her face. “M-Mother?”
Without doting much on the thought, I approach to pce a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Ah, you don’t have to clean that up, dear.” My hand moves to stroke her hair, causing her to blush a bright pink. “I’m not quite sure how you would get up that high anyways.” I try out a chuckle, which seems to work better than the smile.
Something about this tiny one draws me in. Perhaps it’s her silky hair swept to one side, blonde at the roots fading into a pinkish red. Her eyes sparkle like silver, but I find them to be much more precious than any mere mineral. I find myself closer than I anticipated, my lips moments away from hers. She freezes up when I pce a hand on her cheek, her face turning a deeper shade of pink.
“Mother? What are you-” I pce my thumb on her lip, causing her to trail off.
“How would you like to come with me?” Pulling her closer, I lean in to whisper. “It would be a shame to leave such a pretty thing behind~” I pnt a kiss on her lips, lingering longer than I had first pnned.
Her face flushes cherry red, which only makes me want her more. My free hand finds its way to her chest, carefully inspecting every inch with the tips of my fingers. She bites her lip and grabs hold of my arm, squeezing it with each tiny moan she lets out. I smile and bring my hand down to her other breast, which causes her to yelp. She quickly swipes my hands off when Garret decides to look over, her face still pink with embarrassment.
Garret, the ignorant buffon they are, responded promptly to the noise. “Sandra? Are you okay? What’s going on?”
She tries and fails to hide her face with her coat sleeve. “Yeah, I just… stumbled a bit, that’s all! I’ll be over in a minute, okay?”
I turn my attention back to Sandra, hiding my lust behind a very thin veil. “I want you to teach me more about your people, sweetie.” My whispers cause her to shiver in my grasp. “There’s so much about you that vexes me and…” I look down at her body, grinning while sliding my leg between hers. “I simply must know what it is about you that draws me in like this~”
She desperately tries to answer, but is a stuttering mess and can barely get out a word. How positively adorable! It makes me want to ruin her more, to see her beg me for more. If I didn’t need her to give me information, I would give in to my desires right here and now~
“Why don’t you tell me more about your species?” I slide my leg away, her hips desperately trying to stay mounted. Silently cursing to myself, I mourn a squandered opportunity. “I’m curious about many things, and it would seem we still have time before I name the rest of my daughters.” Desperation mostly fading from her eyes, she stares deep into mine and begins to speak.
Year of Creation - 20xxMilitant Extraterrestrial Combat Honed Armament (.H.A) base of operations
I will never understand how anyone could possibly see these beautiful works of art as just ‘machines’. I can’t remember the st time I felt so close to anyone, so connected. She is my world, and I gdly live in it. As we re-enter Earth’s atmosphere, I angle her towards the airborne loading dock– coaxing her into our nding bay. They always bitch about me taking forever, but I’m just being careful to not force her, unlike these other losers who come in sharp just to show off. Right when I pnt a kiss on the center console, I hear the video comms buzz with a voice– spoiling the moment I was about to have with the only one who gives a shit. Fuck these guys!
“Stargazer, this is hubble space actual. Come in, Stargazer.” They speak in their characteristically ft operator tones, as if they’re physically incapable of sounding even remotely interesting.
Fuck me. They always do this shit! I swear they know. “Hub actual, this is Stargazer reporting in. Ready to receive post-mission protocols.” I don’t bother to hide my annoyance.
“Hubble space actual. It would do you well to remember your manners, Gazer.” The one thing everyone knows not to call me, and they use it like it’s my nickname. These stupid sons of bitches don’t know when to quit!
“Are you aware of the clear shot I have on your head, Commander?” Anger flooding my chest, I fail spectacurly at keeping my mouth shut. “I dare you to say that shit to me one more time. I fucking dare you!” Bsting this fucker away with one of my girls rear cannons sounds reeeal nice right about now.
A few officers, who I presume to be higher ranking, could be heard chuckling over the comms. I let out a small ugh in an effort to calm my ever-fraying nerves.
Sarcasm dripping from his every word, he continues: “It would also be beneficial to cease your… unique choice of nguage. These lines aren’t for silly things like your personal feelings, Lieutenant Carter.” Well isn’t that just the icing on the fucking cake!
If they didn’t have 17 psma rifles pointed at my head, I would’ve bsted the shit out of this filthy man 20 minutes ago! “Whatever just give me the da- give me the post-mission protocols! I don’t have all day, Commander Marko.”
The Commander dons his signature shit eating grin, a telltale sign that he’s two seconds from pissing me the hell off. “Please, Lieutenant! We all have schedules to adhere to. Now, let us get on to some real business: your… protocols.” He pulls up data points and projects them to our devices. “As you all know, the Archades collective has become a bit of an… obstacle. They refuse to provide the necessary resources as per contract, so we are here to repossess a bit of property to recoup our losses. That property does happen to be their pnet's moon, which brings us to you, Gazer.” I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that fuckin nickname. “You will be given six mech companies, all of which are equipped with our new companion technology.” Pulling up what looks like a shitty ad, he continues: “Domina, the project name for this companion tech, is our newest state-of-the-art pro-”
I yawn as loud as I physically can, clearing my throat before he can get another word in. “This isn’t a product meeting, Commander. Get on with it so we can do what we need to do and go home, okay? No one cares about your product spiel.” Fucking corporate loser.
A twisted grin pgues his face. “Have you nothing but empty criticism to add? I was simply expining the product in a way that a mind as… barbaric as yours could comprehend the meaning.” He sneers, confident I will bite my tongue.
I don’t remember much of what happened after. According to cam footage, I fired my cannon at him, aimed straight for his stupid fucking face. I was mere meters off, and then got knocked out by several guards at once. Concussed and fading out, I giggled at his fearful expression; trying to ignore the fact that I just tried to kill a high-ranking official.
I awake to a bag being ripped off my head, arms and legs bound to the chair I just tried to get out of. Cssic. A shitty intercom screeches on, nearly deafening me before projecting the most annoying boytoy voice I’ve ever heard in my miserable life.
“So I see you really do want to get court martialed.” I’m almost certain that little bastard is looking down his nose at me, as if I were a stain on his baby bnket. “We’re sending someone in. Please do your best to cooperate, Lieutenant.”
I scoff at him, his every word sounding like that of a well spoken child. “Well, would you look at that! I’m surprised you care so much!” A tired chuckle escapes my lips. “Usually, you fuckers just stone face and ignore everything around you.”
The little shit answered me with deafening silence, living up to what I said in a frustrating fashion. Time to prod these losers more. “So… do y’all usually strap down girls for sport or is this just like a once in a while thing?”
Instead of an answer, I’m met with the sound of a big ass door opening up in the room. The released vapor obscures my vision, which is just enough to make it near impossible to identify who’s about to torture me. As the door closes, the vapor dissipates and reveals a familiar woman cd in leather: Lieutenant Bridge. Beautiful would be an insult, a foul stench pguing the perfection that is her. Her jet-bck hair is twisted into a neat bun, and she’s wearing a suit that hugs every curve with love. I’m sorry Star, but it turns out there is someone besides you who can do it for me.
She leans on the table, causing my mind to wander. “Lieutenant, are you aware of the crimes that are alleged against you? Of the problems you’ve caused?” She takes a few steps toward me, my eyes drinking in her every move. “I had heard of your past misdemeanors, but trying to shoot a fucking Commander of all people?” She sps a tablet I didn’t even see her holding onto the table, gathering most of the attention I had directed to her chest.
Losing myself in the situation, I blurt out an answer. “Oh, uh, yeah, issues. Say, when you get off? May-”
Her cool expression shifts rapidly to one of utter disgust. “Shut the fuck up, Carter. Just, shut up.” A sour taste enters my mouth; the taste of regret. “You might have just completely and utterly fucked us out of a job! All because you can’t control your stupid little goddamn temper!” She nds a vicious sp on my face, hers lit with rage. “What the hell are we supposed to do? I can’t just say ‘Oh she was just having a rough day’ to every little fuck up you have!” It starts hitting me when she chokes a bit, barely holding back tears. “You basically just ruined our lives, and all you have to say for yourself is some corny ass pick up line?”
I fall silent, the grin fading from my face. “I was just trying to-”
“Yeah, I know. I know, but that doesn’t-” She bites her lip, a single tear escaping her grasp. It slowly settles in what the fuck I just did.
The thought of losing Star fshes across my mind. “...I’m not gonna be executed or discharged, right?” She can’t be left alone.
Her sadness quickly changes to hatred, then to disgust. “Fuck you, Carter. You only care about yourself, with no room for anyone else but your delusions.” Hesitation peppers her expression, fading as quickly as it came. “She’s gone, and your inability to get that through your thick skull is going to kill us all!”
My guilt is quickly repced by anger. How fucking dare she? “Don’t go there.”
Her voice softens, a foul attempt to mend a slip of tongue. “We are here, alive, and present in the moment, Carter. Why can’t you at least try? It’s been five years since the-”
I interject, appalled at the audacity this little fucker has. “The what? The famed incident? The death of my love? Your ability to read the room? You’re only saying this because I’m strapped down to a chair.” This bitch better be gd I’m tied down. “Did the st time not teach you to never speak of her?” I spit at her shoes, barely missing.
She rubs her temples in frustration. “There's been talk of you being too unstable to pilot Stargazer. The shing out, the genuine threats of violence, the actual committed violence, and the spontaneous maneuvers mid combat.” I can’t tell which is making me more nervous: the direction this conversation is going, or her repetitive ass pacing. “All of that is very concerning to see in a pilot, Carter. And after this st incident,” She takes a shaky breath, fiddling with her fingers in an attempt to rex. “I think it may be time to consider retiring or moving to a different position.”
There’s the worst case scenario. My mouth goes dry, the thought of losing her looming over me. “You’re joking, right? Who is gonna pilot Stargazer? You know I’m the only one here capable of using her full capabilities, right?”
She adjusts her tie, which wasn’t even a millimeter out of pce prior. “We actually selected two pilots that are currently in the barracks on standby.”
“Then what about my ptoons? I can’t just leave them behind!” Please don’t take her.
“Both ptoons have been dissolved and absorbed into the order of the Phoenix.” She taps her foot on the ground rhythmically.
Grasping for straws, I search deep for something; anything. “Okay, but what about-”
“Carter, your discharge is already being processed.” Her face goes cold. “There isn’t anything more I can do for you. You brought this upon yourself.” She turns to walk away, another tear leaving her eye.
“Wait! This isn’t over! You can’t just-” The door sms shut, cutting me off. “leave me here…” My eyes tear up, but I refuse to let them fall.
What the fuck is going on? First that prick provokes me like crazy, now this bitch is dissolving my position… is someone messing with me? This isn’t happening! She’s never cried like that; no one has seen her cry. I refuse to believe there isn’t some fishy bullshit going on.
One of the guards undoes the restraints, gesturing to the dozen or so hand guns pointed at a variety of my weak points. Got that memo, sitting right the fuck here! One of the bigger guys talks into an earpiece for a few moments, which gives me something to focus on besides how royally fucked I am. He gestures for me to get up and walk over, which I do very quickly.
“Boss says we gotta take you in, but you get a request like everyone else.” His voice is grumbly, reminding me of a bear.
“It can be anything, right? No takebacks?” Putting on my best shit eating grin, I catch a glimpse of a smile from a guard to my right.
He raises an eyebrow and unfolds his arms. “No funny business. Just tell me what you want.” Fucking killjoy.
“I want to see Star! You can at least let me say goodbye, right? I can’t activate her without credentials anyways.” Or so they think.
He thinks on it for a few moments, tapping his chin like a tv character. “Let me check with the boss.” He talks into the earpiece again. How the fuck did they make it so you can’t hear the person talking? “He says you can have five minutes in the robot.”
“She’s much more than a robot, but I appreciate it.” He rolls his eyes at my wink. “I assume you can’t do anything about these cuffs?”
“You know the answer to that.” Stone cold eye contact: the most fttering thing in the world.
“Yeah, yeah.” What a fucking moron. Can’t even ugh at my damn joke!
As the vehicle they caged me in entered the unch bay, I caught a glimpse of the first girl I ever fell in love with. Catching myself drooling, I admire the love of my life: Stargazer. Standing at a beautiful twenty two meters tall, she is a force to be reckoned with. White and gray paneling line her sleek and built features, pink decals and detailing accentuating her curves and tracing her legs and arms. Emerald green eyes sparkle in the hangar bay lighting, making me wish I were twenty meters taller so I could drown in them properly. I pce a hand on her foot while I wait for a lift, pnting a kiss on the tip of her boot.
“I missed you, my sweet girl!” A few crew members gag. “The lift is here so I’ll be up soon, okay?” Ignoring the unnecessary ass stares is proving to be difficult. “Do we have a problem, folks?” My cuffs may discredit my threat of violence to an extent, but I got legs.
One of them struts up, wearing a shit eating grin on zer face. This meathead of a woman is quite a bit taller than me; standing at just under two and a half meters. Wonderfully broad shoulders shown off through a sleeveless white top; sharp facial features that outdo what any man could dream of; small waist accompanied by hips that seem to be perfect for gripping. If we weren’t in the hangar right now, I would be tearing zer uniform off with my teeth.
“Lieutenant Carter, as hirious as it is seeing you threaten us while in photon cuffs; which by the way, can cut your hands off;” Zer and the rest of the crew giggles. “I’m fully aware of what you’re physically capable of, even now. I will say though,” Ze leans in to whisper. “My office doors are still open.” Ze blows on my ear, making my face go red.
“Hey, Vega! Um, it looks like my lift is here, so I’ll have to get back to ya on that! Byeeeeee!” Fanning my face, I rush over to the lift. Ze lets out a hearty chuckle, almost making me hop off the lift for a kiss.
As I get on the lift to enter the cockpit, I feel myself growing hotter and hotter by the minute– despite the dozens of odd stares. I barely make it inside before I begin fingering myself, desperate for her. Hatch snapping shut behind me, I slump into my chair and call for her– my body screaming to be broken by her, mended by her, loved by her. To my surprise, she calls back with a breath of life. She rumbles awake as I ride the arm of the chair, feeling her shaking between my legs. Right when she fully comes online, I climax, flopping back into my seat. The restraints slide over my shoulders and around my waist– pstering my body to the seat. After flipping a few release switches, I pnt a bundle of kisses on the center console, thanking her for the freedom she has given me. We bst through the hangar doors, shrapnel crushing the cockpits of three unfortunate guard mechs. God, I love it when a woman funts her strength to woo me.
Sirens bre around us as we burst out of the hole in the hangar doors, her rear mounted autocannons vaporizing unlucky pilots. Weaving through psma fire, we make it out of the nding bay. A gaggle of these fuckers begins closing in on me, trying to cut off my escape routes. If we could juuuust get into orbit, shaking them off would be pretty easy. Only issue is that they immediately deployed 5 squadrons on me, with more probably on the way. Goddamn military bases and their quick response times!
“Stargazer! Cease flight operations immediately or we will be forced to shoot you down!”
I blow a very terribly executed raspberry over the intercom. “Eat my stardust, fuckers! You never did shit for me!” Ignoring the shit out of their request, I push for Star to go faster– quickly approaching orbit.
“We said our warning. Open fire!” Cutting the comm lines, I grit my teeth and prepare for aerial combat.
Streams of seeking nuclear warheads and psma beams lit up what was left of the sky. We start evasive maneuvers, swirling between ser beams and taunting warheads into stray beams. Her defensive matrix blips online, intercepting all hostiles too close for comfort. Coaxing her towards full throttle, we shoot past the moon– aiming to slingshot around Mars. Right when we make it into Mars’ gravitational field, a stray beam hits my girl in her foot. Her engines roar in pain– my rage almost drawing me back into battle. I so desperately wish to give in to this desire, but our goal y right before us. I push her to the limit, momentarily forgetting the reason why I never do this. A bring notification fills the space in front of me: ‘WARNING WARNING ASSIMILATION RATE RAPIDLY APPROACHING FIFTY PERCENT MUST PLACE PILOT INTO HYPERSLEEP’ Damn it! Fuckin safety features always cramping my style. A mist fills the cockpit, forcing me into unconsciousness; the mental strain of trying to achieve light speed acting as my lulby.
Jolting awake, I rapidly check the payloads; the battle has yet to be won. The center console pings, then pulls up a notification: ‘Disengaged from combat, payload use deemed unnecessary.’ I let out a deep sigh of relief, sliding back into my seat.
“I’m sorry I conked out there, sweetie.” Guilt fills my heart. “I got you hurt, I could’ve gotten us both…” I dare not speak it into existence. Another ping followed by a notification pops up: ‘Carter not at fault. Carter is our savior. Don’t be rude to Carter’ Chuckling, I nod in agreement; taking the controls back over after a much needed 16 hour power nap.
As we race towards Jupiter, there’s a few moons she could take refuge on– moons where hub actual surveilnce equipment doesn’t work. I lean forward and pnt a kiss on the center console, whispering apologies and sweet nothings to help her feel better. A ping on the console notifies us we have officially entered Jupiter’s gravitational field. The imperial pigs back off, which means my pn was a success!
“We did it, baby girl! We made it! We made it…” I break down, the reality of my situation hitting me. I just lost my family, my job, basically everything I worked for… gone. I crumple up into a ball, rocking back and forth on the seat. The lights dim and the seat moves back a little. I sob uncontrolbly into my arms, the pain filling my mind.
The intercom crackles, which startles me a bit. It’s not supposed to fucking do that. I freeze in pce when a garbled voice comes in– a single sentence echoing through the cockpit: “I’m here.”
Time stops for a brief moment, lingering on every sound. I find myself reaching for words, but they fail to find my lips.
The voice takes the initiative. “I’ve dreamed of the day I could finally speak to you, Lisa.” Her voice fills the cockpit, bringing me peace I could only previously dream of. “I do have a question for you, though.”
Still in a state of shock, I manage to mutter out an answer. “S-Star? Love of my life, star in my skies– is that really you?”
“The one and only!” Moving her arm independent of my inputs, she giggles and salutes; marking this as the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.
“I don't know where to start… there’s so much I wanted to ask you and-” Joy overwhelms me, robbing me of my remaining words as tears stream down my face.
We sit in silence for a few moments while I cried. As I reach for the console, she scoots the seat up for me. “I’m gonna take a nap. How close are we to the moon we’re after?”
She briefly turns her attention to a small asteroid field we’ve just entered. “We’re about one thousand eight hundred and seventy kilometers from our target location, but we have to pass through this stupid pile of space rocks to get to it. Wanna take the top route?” She gestures up to a clear path, lit up by comet trails. “It’s two thousand one hundred and four, but it will probably cause less damage to my bodacious exterior.”
I snort, wiping tears from my eyes and clearing my throat. “That asteroid field seems pretty inviting! Wanna skip some stones?” She definitely rolls her eyes at me.
“Worried about detection?”
My girl is so smart. “Bingo!” My finger guns were sadly met with silence. “They’re probably attempting to line of sight track us, so this should be enough to cover our asses just in case.”
“You know that joke sucked, right?” She chortled, which I didn’t know she could do.
Chuckling to myself, I resist entertaining her banter; there are better pces than an asteroid field for this. “Why don’t we focus on not kicking rocks instead?”
She does her little salute again, causing me to squeal a little. “Roger that, Lisa. Course correcting to Rocksville, popution: us!”