Futanari Freighter 3
Since Carla had accepted that she was going to be having a lot more 'fun' with her Zamaar crewmates, her stress had been alleviated.
No longer was she worried about how she should feel about herself. Whether this was 'healthy' or not. She'd even taken to the teasing and flirting she received, even if she still sometimes felt like something of a prize. But feeling desirable was... invigorating.
However, her new problem was something accepting her own promiscuity wasn't going to help with, nor any frank chats with HR; her room was no longer livable.
She didn't know how it happened. Fortunately her belongings were fine, but there had been a major malfunction in the electrics passing through her quarters.
It burnt out the screens inside and caused a small, localised fire that damaged the beds. But most problematic of all was damage to the atmospheric filters and air vents; all sections of the freighter could seal up in an emergency if there was a breach, particularly important in survival situations, sealing people in their pressurised cabins if absolutely necessary.
But the damage not only meant that wasn't possible until it was all fixed, but also presented potential atmospheric issues where she could be left with an environment lacking air, which was a problem during sleep. And she couldn't just leave her door open, lest it somehow lead to an air-leak.
Her room had to be sealed off until it was fixed, leading to her and her belongings being relocated to another cabin, the one belonging to Tana.
Tana was the Zamaar whose cabin was offered to Carla when she arrived, but they opted to give her the last remaining unoccupied quarters, since all the others had been repurposed for storage or closed up and left in a less livable state.
Now she didn't have a choice... and unlike other Zamaar, Tana did not seem particularly thrilled with the arrangement.
"But I liked sleeping on my own!" they had complained, but J'mai had personally intervened to keep Tana from making much fuss.
"I don't care what your preferences are, we can't tell Carla to just sleep anywhere. She's staying with you for the time being."
Tana had continued to argue, slipping into their native tongue, but J'mai was quick to respond, pulling them aside and continuing the discussion in their language; convoluted though it was, Carla could tell J'mai's tone was not tolerant of Tana's apparent whinging.
It was understandable; though what happened in Carla's cabin wasn't
overly
serious, it was nonetheless a significant malfunction that could have led to a serious incident. The ship might have been a model that started falling apart without regular maintenance, but
The Tangerine
's maintenance was impeccable, allowing the ship to exemplify the class's reliability.
How this happened seemed to be weighing heavily on not just the captain's mind. They were concerns shared by a number of the crew, who were already trying to figure out how it happened.
So far, it seemed like the blame was on old, damaged wiring that had shorted during a vent cycle, though some of the crew responsible for maintenance in the crew decks were already arguing with one another over who missed such an obvious flaw, though supposedly the damage was not so obvious.
Carla got the impression that the risk to her safety was not the main impetus of their agitation. They took pride in this ship, they wanted to keep it pristine.
So, Carla was left to unpack her things in Tana's cabin, seeing the many effects Tana had set up on their side of the room; figures and sculptures of alien origin, and rather saucy posters of what Carla could only assume were Zamaaran Pop Culture figures, wearing very little clothing, if any at all. Others were more thoroughly clad, but Carla got the impression there was little issue in their culture over such revealing advertising.
The desk was currently in use as a display for a replica of a dagger; a long, narrow, triangular blade that was no wider than the handle, wrapped with a smooth, very dark alien leather.
The faux weapon was almost a foot long, but otherwise, its design was very simple. A stark contrast to the rather colourful and frankly 'girlish' décor Tana had set up, with signs that the other side of the room had been decorated, but everything was now cluttered with the rest, hastily repositioned.
Carla outstretched a tentative finger, ready to graze it across the blade.
"Don't touch it," came a stern voice.
Carla flinched, and turned around.
Tana was standing in the doorway, arms crossed and hips cocked in a rebellious stance. They had an almost greenish visage with red eyes, their head spines quite flat, the sweep of each quite curled, hugging their scalp. Their nails were painted a dark red, and there were tattoos of an unknown nature visible on their neck.
Their expression was... far from enthusiastic. Carla wasn't used to this sort of displeasure from the Zamaar, they were always so keen to tease and flirt her, to try and get into her pants.
Tana looked like they wanted to relocate Carla to the nearest corridor floor. Better than an airlock, they're dissatisfaction wasn't that extreme, but regardless, Tana didn't want Carla to be there.
"Sorry... I was just curious about the dagger," she admitted. "I wondered if it's made of metal."
"Of course not," Tana answered tersely, pushing past Carla and sitting down on their bed. "It's made of a high-strength polymer, but there's no way it can be sharpened. Can do that with a fake one made of metal. They'd never let me bring a metal replica aboard. Only the leather is real."
Carla thought it could still hurt if thrust into someone's softer spots, but she didn't voice that.
"I see... it's interesting though," Carla continued, trying to drum up some small-talk; maybe it'd help defrost Tana a little. "May I ask what kind of leather it is?"
"It comes from a..." Tana trailed off, pausing as if considering their words. "... let's just call it a 'Bog Stalker.' That's the closest translation I can think of. Dangerous predator. Fast and territorial, leather made from its hide is mostly symbolic. A show of strength."
"I see," Carla responded, her intrigue actually growing genuine. "Can I ask why you have this dagger too? Is it symbolic?"
"You may not," Tana stated firmly, and produced their tablet, tapping away at it and ignoring Carla further.
Her shoulders slumped, and she sighed and finished setting up her things. If Tana was going to open up to her, it was going to be on their terms, it seemed. Carla wasn't eager to push the Zamaar, not when they were acting so coldly.
So, she sat down on her bunk, and produced her own tablet, and proceeded to open up study material, still intent on getting a job on an exploration vessel.
Eventually, Carla felt like she needed to get out of the cabin and get some air, to escape Tana's frosty aura.
She headed to the rec room, where a familiar face was awaiting her.
"Oh, hey there, Carla!" It was Heyto, the 'HR' rep who had fucked Carla in their office and helped open up Carla's mind to the idea of open sexual contact with the crew. Right now, they were definitely 'off-duty,' drinking what amounted to alcohol aboard the ship.
It was a recreation of a Zamaaran beer, but only its taste, not its intoxicating effects. Not that alcohol was permitted on the freighter regardless, but Zamaaran alcohol was more like a narcotic compared to human alcohols, and quite strong for humans; they couldn't get even half the effect as a Zamaar could, but were more vulnerable to just passing out.
Regardless, that sort of substance was banned just as much as alcohol was outside of certain events.
Carla smiled, but didn't sit down immediately, getting herself some snacks and a fruit juice before she did.
"Hey, Heyto," Carla greeted, feeling a warmth in her chest; she was rather fond of Heyto, but also, fucking anyone like that was bound to result in some sort of reaction, even if it was only a blowjob.
"How are you feeling?" Heyto asked. "I hope moving out of your cabin wasn't too much of a hassle."
"Ah, no more than it needed to be," Carla sighed, rubbing her brow. "I think hearing the others argue over the maintenance was more exhausting."
