Space Quest

As the ship dropped out of warp, Captain Tark saw the star for the first time. Its odd green glow bathed the ship. It was unique in the galaxy. Most stars that appeared green from a distance were simply diffused blue or white, but this was emitting an actual green glow.

"Fascinating," Commander Sporn said, his coldly logical voice summarizing his scientific opinion succinctly. It was a trait of his species that Captain Tark had come around to seeing as charming.

"Deploy our sensors," Captain Tark said. "Starcorp wants us to collect readings and report back." He stopped short of saying 'The sooner we do that, the sooner we can leave'. Tark had made no illusion to his superiors that he believed this mission far beneath the skills of his crew. They had explored some of the farthest reaches of the galaxies. They had fought enemies that no one had ever heard of before. They had dealt with trickster gods, mechanic aberrations, races waging perpetual war, and hundreds of other threats that would make a normal captain and crew break down in fear. Now, they were looking at a star because it was a weird color? What a waste.

"Deploying, Captain," Ensign Rochelle reported, flicking a few switches. Captain Tark allowed himself the most fleeting of glances in her direction before forcing his head forward again. Rochelle was the youngest member of the bridge crew. She was fresh out of the academy at 19, one of the earliest graduations on record. Her rising star had required a posting of similar esteem, which lead to her being assigned to the USS Prestige--Captain Tark's ship. Unfortunately for Captain Tark, Ensign Rochelle was one of the most drop-dead gorgeous women he had ever laid eyes on. Her curves found the perfect balance of full and flat in everywhere Captain Tark wanted, a sort of mythological creature to plague the minds of men. While her uniform did nothing to flatter her form, Tark spent countless nights wondering if she truly was as magical beneath there as he imagined.

Even more unfortunate for Captain Tark, who had bedded more creatures across the galaxy than anyone else onboard, Ensign Rochelle was in a committed relationship with a woman back home. Tark knew that he should be more enlightened in this century than the barbarians of the past, but he couldn't help but feel that it was a waste. She had a body that men would kill to play with, but she was off-limits to men.

Captain Tark shook his head clear of the thought, hoping that no one noticed that his casual glance had turned into more of a leer. A quick glance to Commander Sporn showed humor on the alien's face, but he said nothing.

"Any initial readings?" Captain Tark asked. He fixated his eyes on the screen, not trusting himself to look in Ensign Rochelle's direction again.

"Negative, sir," Ensign Rochelle said. "Just normal solar radia... wait... scratch that, Captain. Underneath the normal solar radiation for a star of this size is another band of radiation. It's... it's not at a wavelength that we've observed before."

Commander Sporn turned to one of the others on the bridge. "Run a search of Starcorp records."

"It is harmful?" Captain Tark asked.

"At this wavelength, it shouldn't be, sir," Ensign Rochelle said. "The wavelengths above and below are fairly normal, consistent with being at this distance of the star. There must be some reaction occurring within the star that is unique. Perhaps anomaly in the fusion reaction?"

"Cease speculation until we have firm evidence," Commander Sporn said. The reprimand was delivered without malice, just the same cold logic that was ever-present from the commander.

"Yes sir," Ensign Rochelle nodded. Her long blonde hair, tied back in a cute bob, bounced just slightly with the action. Captain Tark did his best not to notice. It shouldn't have been sexy, but every male could explain that there were some women who just drove you nuts with every little action they made. Captain Tark's curse was that it was the promising, unavailable ensign on his bridge.

"No record of this band of radiation in Starcorp files," the other officer reported.

"Very well," Captain Tark said. "Collect data from the sensors, make a detailed log for Starcorp, and give me any notable findings as they arise." He stood, straightened his shirt, and turned to Commander Sporn. "Commander, the bridge is yours."

"Yes Captain," Sporn nodded.

Captain Tark left the bridge, went to his room, and locked the door. Then, he jerked off, imagining the 19-year-old blonde ensign with the mythically magnificent body. He put her in poses that, he knew, she would never put herself with a man. In Tark's imagination, that blonde bob bounced furiously from a position on her knees. He came, but the momentary satisfaction only left him feeling bitter and frustrated.

---

Counselor Dayna felt something odd. Her species had the ability to feel the emotions of others in a telepathic manner, which made them uniquely qualified as counselors aboard starships. She frowned, opening herself up to the telepathic energy. There was a sort of disquietness settling on the ship--call it a restlessness. What was that?

Counselor Dayna pressed the communicator button on her uniform. "Dayna to Commander Sporn."

"Sporn here," the Commander said.

"Is there... is there anything wrong?" Dayna said, trying to put her thoughts into words.

"Can you be more specific, Counselor?" Commander Sporn asked.

"I feel a degree of... restlessness... on the ship. Is there any cause?" Dayna asked.

"Nothing of note," Commander Sporn said. "Perhaps the feeling originates from the perception of unimportance of the mission. That's the only logical explanation I can think of."

"Yes, that may be it," Dayna said, discontent nonetheless. "Apologies for bothering you, Commander."

"Not at all, Counselor," Commander Sporn said before breaking the connection.

Dayna still couldn't put her finger on it, though. It was more than dissatisfaction with the mission. In fact, Dayna was finding that she was feeling rather restless herself. There was no reason for it, but her clothes itched at her and something didn't quite feel right. She could feel it across the ship, as well. She wondered what could be causing it.

---

On the tenth deck, in a bar and hangout for the crew, Amy Coleson, a brunette in the engineering section, finally decided that tonight would be the night with her boyfriend. She had been building up to it and today seemed like just as good of a time as ever. She let herself be lead back to his quarters, where things quickly grew serious. They stayed in the room for two hours, finding plenty of ways to pass the time.

In the hologram projector, Corporal Carrie Marco, stationed in the medical wing, locked herself into a program that she had always fantasized about, but never had the courage to actually play. A burly man took her under the moonlight. Carrie was rather embarrassed when her superior officer called her on her communicator and she realized that she was late for duty. She had spent more time in the program than she had expected.

Cho McBailey, wife of the chief transporter officer, woke her husband up with a long, tender blowjob. She had never had the courage to do it before, but today she decided to take a leap. Her husband had no complaints about being woken up and Cho had two breakfasts that morning.

---

Captain Tark walked back through the corridors of the ship, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he did. The duty had been quiet ever since arriving and it was good for the Captain to show up on the bridge from time to time, even when not needed.

A shapely redhead passed by him and Captain Tark did a double take after she passed. The redhead had chosen the skirted uniform. It was an option presented to the crew, along with the pants uniform. Some species and some officers felt more comfortable in one or the other. But the redhead had chosen the skirt and apparently was issued a skirt that was much too short. Still, she wore it proudly, he toned legs on display to a teasingly high degree.

It actually seemed that several women had chosen the shorter skirt. In fact, almost every woman Captain Tark saw was wearing the skirted uniform and each skirt was far shorter than Captain Tark would have thought approvable by Starcorp.

Captain Tark didn't mind, of course, but it was noticeable.

He entered the bridge. Commander Sporn called, "Captain on deck" and backs straightened at their posts.

"Commander," Captain Tark said with a nod. He cast a glance around, noticing that the women on the bridge were all wearing the same shortened uniforms.

"Commander... do you notice anything... different about the women onboard?" the Captain asked quietly.

"Yes, Captain," Commander Sporn nodded, matching the low tone. "Apparently there is a new fashion trend. I do not personally find fashion accessible. In fact, I find it illogical and prone to subjective, vane concerns. But I did read a report this morning that more new uniforms were generated by the assembler than any day of operation on this ship."

"And the uniforms?" the Captain pushed.

"All for female crewmembers, all of the skirted variety, and all with custom requests," Commander Sporn said.

"Custom regarding the length of the skirt?" Captain Tark asked.

"Yes, Captain," Commander Sporn, "although a portion of the uniforms also had requests regarding the necklines."

Before Captain Tark could ask for clarification, the elevator to the bridge opened and Ensign Rochelle stepped onto the bridge. Like the others, the skirted uniform flirted on the smaller edge of the definition of "mini-skirt". Unlike the others that the Captain had seen, however, her neckline was dropped low. Her ample cleavage toyed with the neckline, taunting Captain Tark.

Suddenly, Captain Tark was aware that he was gawking at the Ensign quite openly. She was looking back at him. She smiled coyly, licked her lips, and then moved to her station. Captain Tark summoned all his effort to remove his gaze from the 19-year-old.

"Curious," Commander Sporn said evenly. "So the fashion choices are not limited to the heterosexual members of the crew."

Captain Tark shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts that were erupting from his more basic instincts.

"Tell me about the star," Captain Tark commanded.

"We have collected samples of radiation from the surrounding area," Commander Sporn said. "It does seem that the balance of fusion within the star is different from anywhere else documented in the galaxy. The precise elements and the source of their initial ignition must have been quite unique for this sort of stable reaction. We're analyzing our results now, but it does seem that, aside from the curiosity, there is little actionable findings to be gathered from here."

"I see," Captain Tark said. "Well, be thorough on the analysis. We don't want to be brought back due to some lingering questions."

"Yes, Captain," Commander Sporn said. "Science is doing those very tests as we speak."

There was a chirp from their communicators. "Captain? This is Counselor Dayna. I... I think we may have a problem onboard the ship."

---

Counselor Dayna was always one of the crew members to prefer the skirted uniform, and it seemed that she too had used the ship's assembler to make a shorter skirt. Her porcelain legs were long and lean. Captain Tark also noticed that her shoes were taller heels than Captain Tark was used to. He didn't mind. He also didn't mind that Dayna was standing in the Captain's ready room, while both Captain Tark and Commander Sporn sat. If Dayna minded the occasional glances down her body that both officers gave her, she didn't say anything.

"There is something strange happening on the ship," Counselor Danya said. "I first felt it when we arrived in the system yesterday and the feeling has only grown. It's a... umm... sort of..." She bit her lip in an almost girlish gesture. Captain Tark was taken back. Counselor Danya was always a very articulate, thoughtful speaker. To see her at a loss was unusual.

"What is it, Counselor?" Commander Sporn asked.

"Everyone is so horny," Dayna finally blurted out. Both commanding officers sat back in shock.

"Especially the women," Dayna continued, apparently relieved to have finally said the words. "It seems that their minds and emotions are increasingly occupied with sex. And... it's... it's not just the sense of needing release. It's a sort of... umm..."

"Counselor, perhaps this conversation would be easier if I give you permission to simply speak freely," Captain Tark said.

"Thank you, Captain," Dayna said. "They want to be used. They want to be objectified. It's a primal sort of emotion that I haven't felt frequently, but it's the powerful desire to simply please... others." She paused, bit her lip again, and amended, "To please men." She paused, took a breath, and added, "I fear that if this trend continues, they may become unfit for their duties."

"Unfit?" Captain Tark said with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes Captain," Dayna nodded. "If the women cannot focus on anything but male sexual gratification, then they do not have the appropriate focus to do their jobs aboard a starship."

"What about the men onboard?" Captain Tark asked.

Dayna's eyes drifted over to Command Sporn for a moment, then she said, "It seems that they're hornier, but not without reason. The behavior of the women onboard has enticed the men. I think they are behaving well inline with expectations, regarding the circumstances. I think they're still fit for duty."

Captain Tark turned to Commander Sporn. "See if we have enough males at every station to operate at normal efficiency. No changes just yet, but we need to know any deficiencies before they become a problem."

"Yes, Captain," Commander Sporn said. He turned to Dayna. "I feel it is only logical, Counselor, to point out that you, too, are female. Do you observe the same effects taking hold in you as you ascribe to others on the ship?"

Dayna bit her lip and looked down sheepishly at the ground.

"Yes, Commander," she said. "I find my thoughts to be frequently drawn towards... unprofessional topics. I confess that I have already failed in resisting the desire to expose myself... to invite male gaze and objectification." She glanced down at her uniform.

Captain Tark and Commander Sporn exchanged a glance. So that explained the latest "fashion" trend. While Captain Tark's mind dwelt on the implication that it had affected Ensign Rochelle as well--who normally had no desire for male sexual relationships--Commander Sporn turned again to Dayna.

"I can say with some confidence that there will be no repercussions for your self-described failure," Commander Sporn said evenly. "Technically, I do believe you are not in violation of any Starcorp procedures, even if your uniform is unorthodox." He paused, and then added, "And if I may be allowed a moment of brevity, I don't believe that either Captain Tark or myself mind the appeal to the male gaze."

The rare joke from Commander Sporn might have intended to elicit humor from the ship's counselor, but instead an odd look passed over Dayna's face. She shuddered slightly and her eyes fixed on Commander Sporn with a sort of animal lust. Her tongue played coyly on the inside of her moist lips, occasionally surfacing in a seductive taunt. Her body stood firm and her chest pushed out, accentuating her curves. Dayna's fingers teased at the bottom hem of her skirt, apparently resisting the urge to pull it further up. Both men had the feeling that there was very little they could suggest right now that would not be actively agreed to. The ship's counselor had disappeared. A living embodiment of sexual passion stood in her place.

Then, it was over. Dayna regained some measure of control. She held her hands behind her back, apparently to remove the temptation to unveil herself more.

"I'm sorry, Captain," Dayna said. "I... I don't know what came over me."

"I believe you have adequately demonstrated the problem," Commander Sporn said. "Thank you for bringing it to our attention. Perhaps it's better if you went to your quarters for the time being."

"Yes," Dayna nodded. "I... you're right. As I said... unfit."

"You have performed your duty admirably," Captain Tark said. "Don't chastise yourself. Just take it easy and let us figure out what to do about it."

Dayna nodded and excused herself.

Captain Tark turned to Commander Sporn. "It's got to be the sun," he said. "Something about that extra radiation band."

"That was my conclusion as well," Commander Sporn nodded solemnly. "It's the most logical conclusion."

"Have Science look for the effects of the new radiation on female and male test subjects," Captain Tark said. "We should... we need to understand the cause of this."

"Yes," Commander Sporn nodded. "Might I suggest that it would be prudent for the both of us to retire to our quarters for a short period of time before continuing on this course of action?"

Captain Tark nodded. "Commander, I think that's a very logical suggestion."

---

Commander Sporn found himself solving odd problems over the next days.

There were apparently sharp disagreements regarding whose turn it was to use the hologram projector chamber. Numerous women crewmates insisted it was their turn and their right to stay in it as long as they wanted. Commander Sporn eventually decided that no woman would be allowed the use of the room until the effect of the radiation had been fully established.

This seemed to lead directly to a warning that was issued by the ship to his office that there was an unusual amount of draw on the ship's assembler. Commander Sporn took a look at the list of items ordered to be created and found that, in addition to the high number of shortened uniforms produced, the ship also was producing a vast amount of female-pleasure tools. A quick, easy calculation said that there was now an average of 3 dildos or vibrators to every one female onboard. On top of that, each woman onboard seemed to also be producing frilly lingerie--even those unattached romantically. These were a lesser draw on the assembler, due to a lesser amount of material required to produce the desired pieces. Nonetheless, Commander Sporn ordered a strict rations on the material allotted to each female member of the crew. The number of dildos dropped, as the women apparently decided it was more important to wear the latest demeaning, sexy outfit than it was to get themselves off.

Finally, apparently pushed to it by the lack of other escape, public displays of affection were apparently increasingly sharply among the crew. While this was not strictly against the rules of Starcorp, the degree of the displays was increasing rapidly.

Commander Storm first noticed it when he saw a couple in the tenth deck bar, the woman straddling the man and kissing him passionately. His hands couldn't decide whether they wanted her chest or her rear and changed his mind every few seconds. She continuously wiggled to allow him freer access to whichever he wanted.

Later, Commander Sporn was using a restroom when the undeniable sounds of a lovemaking ritual echoed out of the farthest stall. From the sound of it, the male involved was either very talented or the woman involved was very easy to please.

A mere two hours later, however, the women were apparently losing all sense of discretion. Commander Sporn, on his way to Science for the latest report, found two crewmembers in the hallway. The man was leaning against the wall, while the woman had removed most of the top portion of her uniform--apparently exclusively for visual stimulation. She was pleasuring the man with her mouth in a manner that demonstrated a high degree of skill and dedication. The man looked at Commander Sporn with alarm, apparently embarrassed to be found in this position.