Outer Ring Region – 7-692B System – Orbital path – Hel Supercarrier-class ship
Calixte always wondered at why CAG briefings, where a new officer was introduced, had to last so long and be so falsely casual. She managed a couple of smart jokes involving panties and ionic propulsion when she was asked to the pulpit that made the pilot audience grin and chuckle and she exited stage left, leaving everyone guessing at her openness to breaching officer protocol about romantic involvement with troops.
Female pilots where rare, even in Gallentean culture, where freedom and equality was more a duty than a right. She couldn't remember why. Being born Vherokior, she always had followed the female elders in their mystic journeys on the "little smoke", bringing back visions to lead the clans. It was kind of expected of her to lead people when she grew up. If it was the only thing she retained from her former life, she would be happy. She never questioned that external impulse. It suited her fine right now, maybe gave her the energy and impetus to get things done that other people mistook for an ambitious will for castration. Actually, most men were slackers, objectively compared to her, and that rubbed the worst of them the wrong way, shed unfavorable light on them.
She had noticed one of the new squad leaders, in the back, who got there almost late, was the cock she had fucked earlier in the elevator. A quite nice one, all things considered. She hadn't felt one filling her in quite a while and had hoped for a no-strings-attached anonymous encounter. So much for that... She would have to deal with it another way, but would wing it right now... maybe even take advantage of it. Perhaps she even welcomed it. She loved the feeling of holding his sperm inside her, contracting her muscles tighter in spasms, prolonging the orgasm that earlier had her moan and sweat against the glass wall of the elevator. Her nipples perked at the memory of the cold surface. Exiting the briefing would be an exercise in demureness not to attract the attention of the other officers with the two little bumps in the cloth of her overall, right underneath her name badge.
For once it had been a benefit for fleet roles not to be evident on the pod-clothing. That young SC might not have taken her otherwise. It changed so often, anyway. She had the opportunity to study him at leisure, while the FC droned on about housekeeping, discipline and the objectives of the Outer Ring patrols. He was not a pure Intaki, although she could not trace what races lent him the particular features. His skin was more olive than the Intaki and his dark hair and dark eyes were probably what made her give in to the impulse of provoking him in the first place. She noticed a couple scars and more than a little grimness in the set in his jaw, as he listened to the list of last casualties in the recent skirmishes of the area. The dark eyes let the low burn of once fiery coals show briefly. He glanced at her a few times, an amused and maybe puzzled look in his face, as if daring her to strip naked, right there, in front of every other pilot of the fleet.
Once in her office, she grabbed the files of the squad commanders in her wing and sifted through the pictures. Emerson... an androgynous name that just rolled off the tongue... She would find him in the smaller squad brief rooms.
"SC Emerson, report for duty at 1015. New assignments. BR 114."
The squad members that huddled over star system charts in the plan room around Emerson were just as dumbstruck as he was to see their new wing commander behind the sliding door that interrupted their discussion.
Fifteen minutes later, the door of the briefing room slid open.
"SC Emerson, reporting for duty, sir." She really disliked being called sir. Old habits die hard, she guessed.
"Come in, SC, come in." She got up from her high chair behind the plated glass of the star system chart, slid the commands back to the bottom corner and took a few measured leisurely steps towards him.
The room was only dimly lit by the different work panels she had been using. Blues, whites, greens. Lighting directions random and flickering. Shapes were somewhat blurred in the afterthought of irregularly cast shades. Light and shadow played over their bodies, making random ridges eerily obvious and concealing other troughs. Their faces, she knew, were the most phantasmal in this lighting.
Light and magic.
Motes played around, swirling in the heavy air with the grace of her movements.
Magic and light.
"Seems like we got a good start to that 'inter-officer camaraderie' the FC was talking about." He blushed slightly and the corner of his mouth lifted in a casually suppressed smile.
"Yes, sir. Although, it feels kind of weird to use that word in the presence of a body that so recently was entangled with mine." Such politeness... He was a foot away from her and she could feel the heat radiate from his body, as if remembering the earlier embrace.
"Drop it then. Call me Calixte. Or Cal, at your preference." She smiled languidly and chuckled inwardly at how her line seemed taken directly out of a sappy dialog from an X-rated Holoreel. "Enough talk. step in, Emerson." She grabbed the back of his neck as the door slid shut and pulled his lips onto hers, roughly, without preamble and slid her tongue between his lips, probing and playing with his. He did not respond immediately, but eventually bent himself cautiously around her, taken her into his embrace.
"What is this, some kind of welcome ceremony? Do you greet all your SCs like this?" He seemed a bit wary as she pulled him by the hand to the console, a large underlit table, waist high, in the center of the room, used to spread translucent star system charts, recon photos, play out attack scenarios, etc. She unzipped her pod-clothing and it fell at the foot of the console in a grey-green heap.
In one spry jump, she was standing on top of the console, blue-grey light illuminating her from underneath. That seemed to ignite Emerson's interest and he stepped closer, his head at the height of her thighs. It was warm enough in the room to be naked and not shiver – at least not from cold – maybe even hot. He dropped his pod clothing as well.
