Hello All! This story was the second place winner of the 2011 Nude Day progress, and even though it was second, it turned out to be the most popular story I ever posted up here on Literotica.
This was a fun one to write, and the funny thing is -- even with a rather exotic locale and a fair share of sex, this is pretty darned old-fashioned love story.
Sincere thanks to GaleWillow for giving this the editor's eye.
Thanks, as always, for taking the time to read my story. Please do vote, comment, and favorite if you are so inclined.
***
The comm screen flashed that there was an incoming message and Captain Julia Yamamoto tapped the accept code.
"Hello, Admiral Christiansen" she said to the aging man on the screen.
"Hello Julia, let's drop the formal crap. How are you doing?"
"Well, Jake, a little shook up, but happy we're intact."
"I've gotta tell you," said the Admiral, "when we heard you'd been attacked by Aquilans we were stuck somewhere between disbelief and excitement. We've been trying to establish contact with those bastards for years and we can't get 'em to pay the slightest attention. They just swim around in their pools, or pods, or energy shells, or whatever they're called and never spare us so much as a 'hello'."
"I know," said Julia, "we can't get them to pay the slightest attention to us, and then wham, they swoop in and attack my ship."
"Any casualties?" asked Jake.
"None," said Julia. "They were more efficient than a team of SEALS - precision attack, disabling tactics, got in and got out, and gone - jetting straight back to NGC 6751. They worked like surgeons, even using some sort of plasma technique to cauterize their path, sealing up all of the leaks as they went so none of our chambers lost pressure."
"Amazing. What did they get?" asked the Admiral.
"That's the oddest thing," said Julia. "They grabbed the science lab and the backup medical suite. They cut the entire thing directly out of the ship. They took everything in the bio labs and the gene labs. From what we can tell, they also pulled the engineering data for every ship we've ever built. Other than that - nothing else was taken."
"What the hell?" mused Jake. "I suppose I understand the engineering information -- but after the way they cut through your ship, it wouldn't seem like they need that sort of data to conduct further attacks."
"I know," agreed Julia. "Speaking of attacks, how are we going to classify this, Jake? We've experienced no loss of life and no significant damage. Hell, except for the fact that we have to go the long way between two parts of the ship -- I could keep going without a single repair. It's hard to call this an act of war."
"You're exactly right," agreed the admiral. "I've already tangled with a couple of hotheads who are ready to mount a full on attack."
"Full on attack on what?" asked Julia. "The Aquilans are energy-based beings that float in random pods across this entire nebula. Do these hotheads want to light up the entire cloud?"
"If they had their way, yeah," said the Admiral. "You take care of your repairs, Julia. I'll take care of the idiots. We'll classify this as the Aquilan Encounter, and leave it at that."
"Sounds good, Jake," said Julia.
After signing off, the captain did have one thought lingering in her mind. What in the world were the Aquilans going to do with the genetic info and the labs.
***
TWENTY YEARS AFTER THE AQUILAN ENCOUNTER
He had once had a name. It was now unpronounceable, or perhaps un
thinkable
in ways this new brain could comprehend. The name had meant countless things. It had involved the places he'd gone and the ancestors who had led to his creation. However, the name had been in a language that was unfathomable to this form.
His name was now simply 'Marcus'. He was created from genetic stock from the massive planet Rmavsh and his background indicated traits toward strong diplomacy.
He opened his eyes.
There were signals passing through his optic nerves. He could make no sense of them.
There were other nerves. They were in his skin. He could make little sense of those sensations either, but he did seem to sense he was in some sort of fluid.
He sensed motion near him. Soon, he felt added pressure on what he was later to learn were called arms and legs.
His limbs began to move. As they had, several times a day for the past two decades, his arms and legs began pushing and rotating in response to the machines who were tasked with exercising this body. The body had been little more than a living cadaver during its relatively brief existence.
Until today, the brain had not been capable of thought. A few simple commands had been programmed into a specialized region of the hippocampus so the body might respond correctly to fitness regime -- assuring a properly formed body and alleviating any chance of atrophy.
For now, he allowed the autonomic exercises to continue. It gave him time to observe and learn the intricacies of this unfamiliar and strange body.
His awareness continued to expand and he simply stayed suspended, thinking, for several days.
He awoke from sleep one morning to discover he could now make sense of the visual signals transmitted from the eyes.
He was in a great room - The Center. Before him he could see his relatives floating in a gaseous tank. He looked with longing at the form he had once held. Though he was gaining a familiarity with his human shape -- it still felt as though he was a guest in this body.
He turned his head and saw the others. In the great circular track around the Center were three hundred and twenty-eight tanks each containing a human body in an equal ratio of males and females.
These humans were quite nearly every size, shape, and color within the spectrum of the human race. From dark-skinned individuals tracing their lineage back to the African continent of Earth to blue-skinned Xflesian stock -- the Aquilans had taken a heterogeneous approach to the bodies they would eventually inhabit.
He studied the woman in the tank to the left. Her form was long and willowy, her hair of a color he would later learn to call blonde. Marcus could see her eyes were open but showed no signs of recognition. He surmised that she must have awoken later and was still not yet capable of processing the visual stimuli. He found his eyes lingering on her naked form and was surprised to feel a rush of blood to his pelvic region. He looked down to discover his sexual organ had grown much larger and was now rigid. He felt a familiar longing begin.
He turned to the other side. Here was a woman whose skin was of a much darker shade than his own. The breasts on her body were much larger than the lighter-skinned one he had just observed. Her eyes were open, also and they showed recognition. She seemed to be evaluating his form and her eyes lingered on the rigid organ he himself had noticed.
Their eyes met. They evaluated each other for quite some time. He felt the longing increase.
The next moment, the machines kicked in. He allowed them to exercise his body for a few minutes, but for the first time he grew resentful of it. He wished to interact with the female he had been watching. He wasn't certain how he wished to interact, but he suspected it had something to do with the rather uncomfortable rigidity between his legs.
He pushed back on the exercise machine, dragging against the motions it wished for him to perform. It was a struggle at first, but the machine soon stopped. This was actually a trigger. The machines had been programmed to recognize that if a body resisted the exercises rather than complying -- it had become aware and was ready to leave its life within the tank.
The machines stopped and the tank began to drain. The feeding and breathing tubes, and other requisite attachments were soon removed. Minutes later, Marcus found himself standing unsteadily on the floor.
His slow awakening had actually given him a surprising familiarity with his new body. He was able to stand and move. He became aware that he was capable of speech -- using the seventeen languages, including Galactic Standard, which had been pre-loaded into his brain and had simply waited there until the day a consciousness entered the body. What all of the words meant were more of a mystery. Blue, red, brown -- they seemed to make sense. It would be several weeks before he could string these odd words together into a coherent sentence of more than a few words.
Language was not his concern, however. He felt he had to interact with the creature in the next tank.
On moderately shaky legs, he walked slowly to the dark-skinned woman he had observed. She had seen him resist the exercises and had followed suit. Her tank was nearly drained and she gingerly stepped out to greet him.
They stood and evaluated each other. The woman was still glistening with the aqueous fluids which had sustained her throughout her formative life. She stepped forward and leaned into him, her high and large breasts being the first bodily parts to touch his. Both of them gave an involuntary gasp at the electrifying jolt of first bodily contact.
Perfectly nourished for her genetic make-up, she was actually a bit taller than he was since his stock was descended from a planet with heavier gravity. As a result, her breasts touched high on his chest.
"Marcus," he said, indicating himself.
"A'nish," she said.
She bent her head down to be near his.
"Kiss," she said simply.
"Kiss," he replied.
This word made sense.
Their lips met. It was awkward at first but they soon discovered that moving their lips in certain ways brought more pleasurable stimulation.
As they kissed, they began to explore each other's bodies with their hands.
He soon found his hand on her breast.
"Soft," he commented.
She nodded in agreement.
She soon found her hand on his penis.
"Hard," she commented.
He also nodded in agreement.
They began pushing against each other, also enjoying the sensations of exploring each other through greater skin contact and not just their hands.
Her greater height was a good thing. As they continued 'exploring' and their bodies began naturally responding to the lovely contact, they eventually found his hard member brushing against her nether lips which were now moistened from more than the fluid in which she had lived.
They knew what to do. Both through instinct and through the limited knowledge with which they had been pre-loaded and were just beginning to unlock. Yes, they knew what to do.
She moaned involuntarily at the feeling of his long organ sliding into her.
"Penis," she gasped.
"Vagina," he replied.
"Prick," she moaned.