Merker's Outpost

by I. Christie

  The funnel was moving towards them quickly, pushing dark clouds before it. But the dark clouds had some mixed blessings for it suddenly showered large drops of water on their unprotected heads. It washed away the potential for the abrasive reaction their off-world bodies had in this electromagnetic storm. By the time the clear sky and warm sun was upon them, they were soaked to the skin, cold, and each experiencing mixed emotions about their new home.

  Their species naturally became partners with the spirit of a planet. Could they find a peaceful coexistence with the spirit of this wild planet? In her sleep, Carol shuddered at the memory. She felt a comforting arm around her tighten reflexively from her cringing movement.

  ***

  Cadet Montran was tired yet too twitchy to sleep. It was final exam week for all the cadets at the Academy, but she attributed it to something else. A glance towards her roommate told her she was deep in sleep. Not wanting to wake her with her restless pacing, she gave in to the pressing need to take a walk under the moonless night. Cadet Montran stayed to the well-worn path so as not to come upon anyone by surprise. As she neared the edge of the forest, she could feel another's presence. It was as if she was expected. Curious, she moved further into the trees that surrounded the glen.

  Nearly hidden in the shadows of the trees, she spied the form of a woman. The touch of another's consciousness was light. Instinctively she reached for it, reveling in the warmth and…excited at the unfamiliar sensuous passion that lay just below the surface of their contact. She was waiting for her? Why?

  The form started to move into an ancient ritual dance. It was familiar…something from her childhood, the meaning forgotten. She took a slow deep breath realizing that though it was pitch dark everywhere, she could see her Dancer clearly.

  Gracefully, the Dancer moved from one dance step to another, her hands tapering to fingers that gently curved into recognized mudra poses. As the dance progressed, the intensity of the energy heightened within her, taking her by surprise that she should be experiencing it. An ethereal part of her separated from her physical form. It was a surreal experience as that part of her merged with the Dancer, breathing the same air, and feeling muscles strain as if they were her own. The image of a dragon appeared in her mind.

  Yesss. I remember now. It is the sacred dragon dance. The force that bonds lovers through sexual energy!

  Cadet Montran could feel the weight of the braided hair behind her head, the cold damp air that filled her lungs, hear the leaves high above them rustling in the breeze. Time and separateness blurred as the Dancers moved in the energy of the Dance.

  The Dancers called in their energy reserves for the final leap and the most difficult of the moves, the flying stag. The Dancers rose to an impossible height, suspended under the twinkling stars, arms rose like antlers, fingers fanned out, as if to snag a pair of stars on the points, and then finally, as the original Dancer dropped back to the ground, Cadet Montran separated from her. The powerful surge of sexual energy that shot through her caused her to loosen her connection, and not being able to sustain it or knowing what to do with it, the connection broke. Her body vibrated with such force, it shook her composure, bringing her to a climax that had her seeing stars behind her closed lids. Her yoni strummed to the silent scream of release. She weakly gripped the tree she collapsed against, looking for the support and strength her legs lacked.

  Goddess! Is that what it's like? No wonder the old ones insist that sexual liaisons should be taken more seriously, the two thought simultaneously.

  Cadet Montran's yoni continued to pulse as the blood pounded in her veins and ears in the aftermath, leaving her too weak to respond to the pull to go out to her Dancer. The abrupt sounds of laugher shattered the mood. While she waited for her legs to stop trembling, she thought of what she was experiencing. Her emotions were a mixture of shame and excitement at what she had been pulled into, wondering what it meant, yet fearful of the implications.

  After that night, each time the twin moons hid their faces on the other side of the planet, she could feel the pounding of energy in her yoni, demanding a sweet release at the hands of her Dancer. Uncertain, she resisted the pull. She wanted to know more of who she had shared this sexual connection with, and what it was about, she argued with herself.

  It was not until a month later, that she was able to put a name to the Dancer. Cadet Zohra. It was just before the summer break. Cadet Montran, relaxing with a group of friends at an off-campus meeting hall, glanced up at the new crowd of cadets that entered the hall. One of the women explained the other popular alehouse closed for two days. The bantering and noise in the room was higher than usual. She began feeling twitchy and her face became flushed for no apparent reason. She was listening to another cadet's story of his blindfolded attempts at landing a rover and her companions laughed uproariously. Her gaze was drawn to the other side of the room. Noises around her became muted as dark intriguing eyes captured hers, sending a shiver down her spine. Time stopped in the moment of mutual recognition.

  Someone had leaned over and whispered the name of the woman that had captured her attention, teasing her gently of the intense stare that was returned.

  Merely saying the name to herself inflamed her desires. Images of the athlete in televised Galactic competitions, her life before she enrolled in the Academy, replayed in her dreams. They had met as young women in a shrine of Aphrodite, on some distant planet. She had just started her menses and was placing the traditional offering at the altar. The only thing memorable was that that night she had an erotic dream of the young athlete. At the time, she attributed it to a flush of hormones. Now, she knew it was because she had witnessed the Dragon's Dance.

  Turning restlessly in her sleep, she felt someone next to her move to accommodate her movement.

  The next dream started, though on another entirely different vein. It was a long ago memory of a young first lieutenant who stood in front of her new troop, wondering what she had gotten herself into. The members had given up and did not care about what happened to them. It caused her to get angry, because it meant that they were putting everyone's life in danger as well as her own, if she accompanied them on drops. Their defeatist attitude meant they would let themselves get shot and the person next to them. She was given two stan weeks to become familiar with them, something normally not done, and that should have clued her in that something was not right about the troop or her being assigned to them.

  In Lt. Montran's sleep she restlessly moved into another position and would have awakened, if the darker memories started, but a warm hand soothingly rubbing her back, encouraged her dreams into another direction, dreams that were not disturbing

  ***

  Murmurs from voices that were not clear had the soldier moving closer to the group that surrounded a meadow; however, an unseen hand restrained her gently pushing her onto the path back to…

  JG's eyes popped open, feeling her senses leap to a high level of awareness, as realization that she was in an unfamiliar room was recognized by her subconscious. Breathing in deep, she did not find the familiar taste at the back of her mouth that came from heavy use of breathers for work in a hostile environment. For a moment, she wondered if she was still on leave. Rising to lean on her elbows, she studied the room.

  "Good morning, Captain Zohra. You are looking much better than when you were pulled up from the service tunnel. I am Guardian of Merker's Outpost, your host."

  Zohra glanced about her looking for where the voice came from. Not seeing anywhere or anything, she slid quickly out of the comfortable bed and looked about closer, not seeming to care she was wearing nothing.

  "I am in a computer, Captain. You are Captain with the Sheild Maidens Guild… Athenia's Guild….ahh. Good you remember now."

  It suddenly all came back to her. She prided herself in not falling back on the bed in surprise. She was no longer SMj. Jina Gari of the Black Rose troop. She was Captain Delorita Zohra of the Shield Maidens. For a few moments she kept rep
eating the title in her mind to get her acquainted with someone she had not acknowledged for as long as she was in covert operations for Naboth's Vine.

  "Good morning, Guardian," she finally acknowledged. "How is security?"

  "It is good. General Aglauros has been notified that you have been separated from the enemy, been debriefed, and now ready to receive orders. Her last communiqué to me was assurance that you will be assisting with the protection of the Outpost," Guardian reminded her, just in case not everything had come back.

  "Yes, those were my orders, Guardian. I would like to see the Outpost's logs. You do keep logs?" she asked briskly, trying to cover for her uncertainty in her change of characters.

  "Yes. Perhaps you would like to dress first?"

  The closet rolled open with a butler bot emerging. It had garments already selected, but JG never let anyone make decisions for her when she had a choice, so she picked something else from the closet. She was curious about the wardrobe that was hanging but would not ask about it unless it was important for her welfare or her mission. In a quick glance, she already had made up her mind to return to the city to pick up her own clothing. However, she did ply Guardian with all sorts of questions about his second skin before putting it on.

  Sitting in front of the workstation in her quarters, she began going over what information he had on everyone on Merker's Outpost. They were brief with psyc evals attached on each person that was currently on Merkers, which she was grateful Guardian made brief. However, when his information got to Lt. Harriet Montran she almost asked for the evaluation to go more in depth.

  Lady Harriet Montran…here. She is alive! Bloody moon Captain Miller was right! The woman just will not die.

  With the realization that Lady Montran was helping Guardian, Captain Zohra realized that they would be working together. A smile creased her lips and her dark eyes glistened as she recalled how they met…and their last meeting. Memories of Cadet Montran were kept at a minimum for nine years, but now…

  Captain pushed away from the workstation. "Time."

  "There is no real time here, Captain. However," Guardian quickly interjected, remembering that her persona as JG was short fused and did not like open ended statements. "It would be considered early morning hours to some species."

  "Where is Lady Montran?"

  "Still sleeping."

  "Where are you located?"

  "In Command Center, just down the hall from where you are." A holograph quickly appeared for her showing her the way.

  "Give her a wake up call…we need to get things going here. Have her meet in Com-C."

  "Yes. Of course, Captain. But, perhaps you would like to eat something before you start your day?"

  Her stomach rumbled then, and she let herself be introduced to her kitchenette bot.

  ***

  *

  In the morning Harriet woke pressed against Carol, spoon shaped, holding her as if in comfort. She had one hand draped across her hip, her fingers dangling near her soft pubic hairs. She sensed that Carol was already awake, and with her senses awakened, so came the sexual haze that had her pushing closer into the warm body.

  "Good morning, Carol," she whispered, sliding her hand down her thigh. Her fingers trembled from yearning, feeling the soft skin pebble under her fingertips.

  When does this end, knowing that in reality she did not want it to end.

  Carol turned in Harriet's arms, her face close to Harriet's, and her eyes dark in the dim light, and a small smile curling the corners of her lips. She picked up Harriet's warm fingers and began kissing them one at a time. Then her lips returned to the first finger, sucking it into her mouth, and taking her time swirling her tongue around the digit, then moving to the next. By the time she got to the third digit, Harriet's body was vibrating with a craving she had no intention of containing, knowing she would not be able to anyway. She knew of no desire this strong and urgent as she threw back their covers and straddled the equally aroused Carol. Once more, they willingly gave into the sexual heat of their passions. Groans, growls and loud cries of release continued well past two stan hours.

  Exhausted, Harriet rolled on her side and pulled Carol into her arms and held her silently as they both enjoyed the after effects of their activities. The throbbing ache between her legs was from both, a desire that seemed to be unquenchable, and the attention that was mixed with rough and gentle handling. Occasionally Harriet could feel her lover's body shudder from the pleasure her body seemed to keep replaying. Harriet wanted more, but her sore body parts needed a break.

  Harriet sighed. She needed to ask Carol.

  "Carol?"

  "Yes, Mistress?"

  The sultry voice drove her crazy as another hot flash shot down between her legs. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around Carol's waist pulling her body closer into hers and feeling pleasure and pain as her sensitive lips pressed against Carol's taught stomach.

  Harriet sighed again. "How much of …this…is from the effects of …of...our first meeting? Blast, she thought disgustedly of herself, I can't even mention the pheromone gas!

  "All of it."

  Harriet let out her breath both disappointed and relieved. The feel of Carol's body against hers was too much to give up right now. Carol gently undulated against her sore yoni, looking deeply into her eyes. Harriet pressed harder, excited by watching Carol's eyes as they darkened with desire.

  "But you're reacting as if it means something to you," Harriet finally managed.

  "It does, Mistress. I am affected by you as much as you are of me."

  Of course it would, Lt. Harriet Montran. She is not a mechanical toy!

  "Does it wear off?"

  "Yes, Mistress."

  Harriet was quiet for a while, her hands stroking the body she desired more than anything right now, letting the energy build again.

  "Do you mind me…?

  Carol regarded the serious green eyes focused on her own.

  "You have been kind enough to return the pleasure, which in the past, had been for the amusement of others with my own satisfaction of no consequence for me or them."

  Harriet felt a mixture of emotions. "So, we just…" She could not finish the sentence.

  "We just continue on until it wears off," Carol stated simply. "Is it bothering you?"

  Harriet laughed embarrassed, "No. I just hope I can survive. How long does it last?" Harriet was enjoying the warmth her partner exuded. She had never met a metraperson…well, regardless of what Guardian said about Sharon Teal, she found it difficult to believe that she was a metradame…but then, Carol was also not acting like what she thought a metradame would act like…a mindless robot that did as she bid…no personality or humor. But Carol was not like that, as their previous night had revealed. Harriet did not want to think about that, because then she would have to go back to her reluctance to accept that Sharon Teal was a metradame.

  Carol kissed the tip of her nose and then nipped it, distracting Harriet from her depressing thoughts. "I hope I can too. I'm not sure, about the duration Mistress. For some, longer than for others."

  There were so many personal questions Harriet wanted to ask her, now that the intensity of passion was somewhat abated. They were the usual questions a lover would ask…what are your hobbies; favorite books; places to visit; do you travel much; what are your favorite vacation spots, etc. But, instead, Harriet found herself enjoying the warm body that was pressed against hers, and fingers soothingly rubbing her back in small circles.

  A soft ding sounded. "Good morning, Bekke Donnas," Guardian greeted them in another dialect. "I hope I am not disturbing you two, but Captain Zohra, or JG, or Gina Gari, has been up for over three stan hours. I thought it would be good for all of us to get together. I think she would also like a live sparing partner," Guardian chuckled, "until a contingent of soldiers arrive to clean out the remaining outlaws on my planet.

  "Good morning, Guardian. I hope you are joking about sparing partners," Harriet returned, re
membering the type of workouts the Black Rose squad was reputed to like. "She's a Captain?" So, who is sending the troops?

  "Within her Shield House and Naboths Vine, that is her rank. We will hear from others interested in what is happening here in about five stan hours." The voice continued, "The Committee and Collective are assessing the change of power in Committee space and I am waiting to see what the two ships, Merchant's Wife and Spinner's Tale that are nervously hovering above us, are going to do. I am also curious why some of the Spartans are remaining, while the smugglers have completely pulled out."

  "Admiral JoCastao is going to be unhappy that she missed the smugglers," Lt. Montran remarked. Spartans remaining? So that's why a cleanup crew is being sent...but from where? Captain? Does that mean she has been put in charge of containing those Spartans that are remaining? Makes sense since she would know them and the setup.

  "There are twenty small wolf packs from the Collective in pursuit of those smugglers. The wolf packs arrived twelve stan hours after I sent off your message to Admiral JoCastao. They were getting ready to net the planet, when the smugglers' ships started arriving and quickly departing. The packs have latched onto the departing smuggler ships and are following them out of this busy corridor. By the messages passed between the packs and to their commander, I understand they are herding them into an area that is not busy with travel. I image they plan a battle."