Catherine
I was seated in my quarters, penning my regular report to headquarters informing them on our progress. It was currently late in the evening (while there is no day-night cycle in space, most ships operate on a simulated one for the sake of their human inhabitants).
Just as I had put the finishing touches on the report, my door beeped. I had a visitor.
"Come in."
My guest entered as soon as I gave permission and saluted. "Ma'am."
It was Lisa Gonzalez, and I smiled genuinely at the sight of her. "At ease. What can I do for you, Lieutenant?"
Gonzalez's posture relaxed slightly, and her arm fell to her side. However, she maintained a firm, professional expression. "Ma'am, you have always told me to come to you if I identify actionable areas of improvement aboard the
Athens
."
"Indeed," I nodded. "What seems to be the problem?"
"Well..." This was a rare sight. Gonzalez was tongue-tied; her usually strict face cracked for a moment and she looked slightly embarrassed. "It has to do with the engineers."
"The engineers? Did Anthony Cooper do something?" At the mention of trouble, my mind immediately went to the Chief Engineer.
"No, ma'am." However, Gonzalez denied my assumption. "This is actually something I've noticed with... all of them. Cooper included, I suppose, but it's not an individual issue."
I folded my arms and leaned closer. "I see. Then out with it, Lieutenant. What exactly is going on?"
Gonzalez pursed her lips, then spoke. "This may sound silly, but I feel the engineers have been...
staring
too aggressively. Whenever I am near them, their eyes are constantly upon my chest and legs. I may be mistaken, but once or twice I believe they have even rubbed their crotch in my presence. Furthermore, from talking to other women on the ship, it seems that they've all had similar experiences."
Hm. While this was unexpected, it was important to take Gonzalez's comments seriously. Sexual harassment was no laughing matter. By sheer coincidence, the fifteen engineers aboard the
Athens
were exclusively male. That had never caused any issues until now... but something may have changed.
"Has it gone beyond looking? Have any of them made disparaging remarks or touched you directly?" The details were key in this scenario. Military guidelines were harsh about punishing sexual harassment but, crucially, verbal or physical action was necessary to be technically considered harassment. Just a glance, or even multiple glances, wasn't enough.
Gonzalez knew this as well, and she shook her head. "No... I haven't experienced anything that I think could qualify as blatant sexual harassment. Actually, I partially bring this up because I do not feel that there is malicious intent among the engineers."
Curious. "Explain, Lieutenant."
"I do not wish to imply that the engineers are devoid of guilt; they should certainly be acting more appropriately. However, I do worry that our uniforms are exacerbating the issue and making it difficult for some to focus on their duties."
I scanned Lieutenant Gonzalez from bottom to top. Her feet were nestled into black stiletto heels, her skirt was only just long enough to conceal her undergarments, and the top three buttons of her jacket were undone, exposing a generous amount of cleavage.
In other words, her uniform was perfectly up to code, just as expected of my adjutant. However, from an objective perspective, I had to admit that one could find her attire provocative, especially the amount of exposed skin.
"So what do you propose, Lieutenant?"
"Nothing in particular I'm afraid, ma'am. This is a difficult situation that I wanted to bring to your attention before it gets out of hand. We can't exactly fault people just for having a sex drive."
She's right, which presents an interesting conundrum. An individual can't help having a strong sex drive, and
it's only natural to seek release once you've been aroused
. At the same time, as natural as it is, we can't allow necessary ship functions to be impeded by our crews' libido.
"Thank you, Lieutenant. Leave me. I'd like to think on this matter."
Gonzalez left my chambers with another salute, and I was left to contemplate in silence.
What was there to be done about this? Engineers are a ship's lifeblood in our modern technological age. They need to be able to work free of distraction, lest we risk diminishing our combat potential.
Unfortunately, even as high-ranking as I am, it's not within my jurisdiction to unilaterally enact new uniform standards aboard the
Athens
. Rather, it was important to follow military rule to the letter precisely
because
of who we are. The
Athens
is the flagship of the entire Unified Nations navy. We set the example for every other vessel to follow.
So, I should rule out changing our uniform. However, that means I'll have to decide on a more creative solution instead.
The simplest approach would be to remove the distraction entirely and have the engineers work in isolation, without contact with female personnel. However, that was impractical, let alone inhumane. I enjoyed the thought of subjecting Cooper to an environment devoid of women, but the other engineers had done no wrong that I knew of.
Maybe I should consider this from a different angle. Ogling women was a symptom, but not the root cause. So what
was
the root cause? That should be obvious: pent-up sexual desire. Based on what I'd observed, none of our engineering cohort was in a relationship -- at least, not with someone stationed aboard the
Athens
. Some had wives or girlfriends back home, I'm sure, but we were currently many lightyears away.
I imagine many of them resorted to masturbation to relieve their urges. There was an unspoken understanding among a ship's crew that whatever you did in your own quarters was your own business. We could be deployed for years at a time, after all.
However, masturbation was clearly insufficient. Otherwise, this problem would have solved itself without my intervention.
It is the duty of command staff to ensure the rest of the crew perform optimally
. Even if I must endure personal discomfort, that is the burden of being a leader.
With that thought in mind, I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. Then, I sighed. There
are
guidelines in place for circumstances like this. Although seldom-used, the process is clear. I had been hoping to avoid going this far... but it appears there's no way around it.
--------------
Samantha
Every once in a while, I'll go for a short run in the early morning. The
Athens
is equipped with a small circular track, separate from the main training room, to accommodate such activities. It's a luxury that most naval vessels can't afford, but the
Athens
was hardly "most vessels".
After some stretches, I started my run around the track. This early, I was usually the only one here, and today was no different. However, after only a few laps, I found myself feeling immensely dissatisfied. I'd gotten so used to starting my workouts with one of Cooper's semen shakes that it felt somehow bizarre to be exercising without one.
I tried to ignore the feeling of emptiness as best I could, but as minute after minute ticked by, my discomfort only grew. I'd come to realize something over the past few days, which I hadn't been willing to admit to myself until now:
I needed semen for my workouts to be effective.
Logically, I knew that there had once been a time when I exercised without that extra shot of protein. But now, the thought of exerting myself for even another moment without first drinking a man's semen was excruciating.
A small part of me couldn't help thinking: why? Were the semen shakes really so potent? I don't believe there had been a dramatic improvement in my strength or performance since I started drinking Cooper's shakes, and yet --
"Good morning, Major."
A male voice interrupted my train of thought. Like me, he was wearing our standard jumpsuit. It was another soldier who had just stepped onto the track, Corporal Eric Vonce. He was a young man, early 20s at most. Despite our disparity in rank, Vonce and I were somewhat acquainted; we both tended to run the track at odd hours, and had exchanged a few words here and there.
"Morning, Corporal."
I returned his greeting automatically, and glanced at his crotch in spite of myself. Whatever I had been thinking about before he entered the room, it didn't matter. There was now something
much
more important.