Futanari Freighter Pt 06

Futanari Freighter - Part 6

"All hands, prepare for FTL termination,"

Captain J'mai's voice echoed throughout the ship's PA system.

Carla gripped the handles in her cryopod hard, the knuckles turning white.

They were about to exit FTL, at the edge of the system Gonzales Station resided. Carla had never experienced an FTL termination before, but apparently it could be just as disorienting as engaging it.

It was half braking, half slamming into a net, navigation terminating the bubble that surrounded the ship and killing the engines while the interference of the system's gravitational fields completely disrupted the field entirely.

It was a rather rough, and oft inaccurate procedure, but relatively safe.

"Exiting FTL!"

All the same, when the ship started shuddering and groaning like a thousand bulkheads were buckling, Carla didn't feel all too encouraged by statistics.

Her breathing quickened, and her grip on the handles of the pod became almost painful. It lasted longer than she expected, and the fear the

Tangerine

would come apart at the seams was not far away, not with how the ship seemed to be falling apart as if from bad maintenance.

But soon, the ship stopped shaking. Everything calmed down, and soon, only the accelerated breathing of her fellow crewmates in adjacent pods was audible.

"FTL successfully terminated. Prepare for burn to Gonzales station."

The all clear hadn't been given, so everyone waited while the ship oriented its engines in the direction it needed to go. And after several long moment, the ship shuddered again, and Carly felt acceleration tugging on her.

It made her lurch in her pod, gravity still offline until they were underway. It'd take at least a day to reach Gonzales Station, orbiting the Gas Giant GG-41, near the edge of the system.

Once the acceleration stopped, J'mai's voice echoed through the PA once more.

"We are en route to Gonzales Station. All systems read green, you are free to release your restraints, and leave your pods or rooms. Remember, stay vigilant for additional technical faults."

That was almost a given; whilst ships were designed to tolerate FTL termination, that didn't mean the stresses involved couldn't be considered 'violent'.

With the state the

Tangerine

seemed to be in, it was certain that something had broken. Or a lot of things. At least docking at Gonzales Station meant a hopeful end to the plague of technical faults.

On the bright side, she didn't throw up this time.

---

Sure enough, the crew was busy dealing with a number of issues caused by the exiting of FTL, though less than anticipated. And it had been noted that, by and large, life support remained relatively untouched throughout the entire 'crisis'.

No one had officially used that label, but it was what the crew were saying, and Carla could understand.

At the same time, there was a sense of excitement in the air; while Gonzales Station was an outpost, it did have a dockyard sufficient for their needs, but most importantly, more extensive recreational facilities.

Assuming the station wasn't a complete dump, a lot of the Zamaar were excited to get off the

Tangerine

and visit the new place.

Carla suspected a number of them were perhaps interested in seducing some of the occupants, to fool around a little.

Carla was just happy to be on 'solid' ground for a little while until the source of the problem could be identified. Or at least enough fixes had been applied the ship wouldn't fall apart on them before they reached their intended destination.

That was still a day off, intrasystem travel ironically comparatively slower than FTL between systems, at least thinking relatively.

That's what she got to thinking about as she fixed up an electrical panel next to one of the lifts. It was a pattern she and others had noted, many of the faults were electrical in nature, or the results of an electrical fault.

Some weren't, like the pipe rupture that injured Tana...

Tana. They were recovering well, but they were still in an induced coma, Doc keeping them that way until they were confident they were mostly recovered, given the nasty head injury Tana sustained.

Carla still felt pangs of guilt every now and then, like it was her fault. If she'd just let Tana go, and not had that conversation...

But no, it wasn't her fault. She had no way of predicting what happened. As was said to her and oft repeated in her own head.

All the same, she worried for Tana; the Zamaar was already going through a lot, ostracised by the crew for paranoid reasons, straining the characterisation of Zamaar as being tight knit in their own 'clans'.

Carla sighed, and ignored those thoughts, doing nothing good for her. She'd just have to let Tana recover before she tried to talk to them. If they wanted to talk.

The electrical panel flashed its diagnostic lights. Just one more fault to go...

---

Carla was once again bracing herself, though this time in her own quarters.

Finally, after a number of delays, she was back in her own room. Though, admittedly, she missed the surroundings of Tana's cabin, filled with their stuff and looking less stark compared to her own.

Though she wasn't going to miss bunking with Tana specifically, the Zamaar having made the living arrangements quite strained.

She sighed, clinging to her mattress, swaying to the small bursts of acceleration as the

Tangerine

made the final approach to Gonzales Station's umbilical.

Things went calm. And then the tiniest little shiver, and it was quiet.

"Docking with Gonzales Station complete. We have achieved hard seal, refuelling booms and 'ship to shore' power conduits are deploying. If any of you wish to visit the station, please contact their administration for a pass. All crew will be required to go through decontamination before leaving the ship. And a reminder, crew required on urgent shifts will not be given a pass until their shift is over. That is all."

J'mai's voice faded, and Carla stood up and stretched, feeling all too eager to get onto the station, thankful she was not part of the first round of 'urgent shifts'. It basically meant she had complete R&R.

Leaving her cabin, she bumped into Utan, who was looking a little glum.

"What's up?" Carla asked.

"I'm on the first urgent shift," they muttered. "Someone's gotta get this tub into shape, but I was hoping I'd get to see around Gonzales Station first. Dammit, I should've kept my mouth shut."

"What, you think the captain did it deliberately?" Carla inquired. J'mai ran a tight ship, but were they the sort to be petty to keep their crew humble?

"The captain, no. But the universe was listening, that's for damn sure," Utan bitterly joked.

Yeah, that'd do it. Carla offered a sympathetic smile.

"Tell you what, I'll bring you back a souvenir if there's anything I think will interest you," Carla suggested.

"Sounds like an idea. And if we're free at the same time, let's go together."

"Agreed."

Utan smiled and leaned close to peck Carla on the lips.

For once, Carla wasn't surprised, and returned the peck just as casually, but Utan was already on their way, heading to where they were needed.

Carla, meanwhile, pulled out her tablet and consulted the map, heading to the oft unused communications hub. Though it was probably going to be rather busy right now.

She'd use her PDA to contact the station's administration, but it was protocol that no external device could connect to a station's intranet until cleared by customs and security, once a pass was provided. Understandable, but a little inconvenient, it'd make things so much faster.

Well, it wasn't like she was going to have a shortage of time for the foreseeable future.

---

Carla got her pass, speaking to the administrative staff of Gonzales Station.

Truthfully, she didn't know if she was speaking to a human or otherwise, but it wasn't as onerous as she was expecting.

Thus, she grabbed a bag for anything she might want from the station, and made her way to the docking umbilical.

Decontamination was quick enough, and soon she was walking the fifty meter umbilical that connected the

Tangerine

to the station, the glass-walled tube giving her an adequate view of the structure looming overhead.

For an outpost, it was sizeable, at least a kilometre in height, though fairly narrow towards the bottom, gradually getting thicker towards the top until the vaguely conical structure was almost a third of its height in width.

Most of the station stretched out below the umbilical, a great ring surrounding one of the thicker sections above the centre, the connecting spokes lit up with many lights, much like the exterior of the station's central section, numerous windows breaking up the gunmetal grey exterior, the occasional shadow flickering through them.

Down below were several large boxy structures arrayed radially, hangars for smaller shuttle craft.

Large, white block letters spelled out the station's name on the side of its hull above the main ring, lit with floodlights.

A strange, bluish-white light bathed the hull of the station, reflected off of the gas giant it orbited, GG-41, an unusual-looking sphere of seemingly languid clouds swirling in twisting whites and blues and the rare streak of aquamarine, the edges of auroras just visible along the intersection where the light side of the north pole met the dark.

They were the only things that seemed to move, the rest of the gas giant looking so very still, like paint that hadn't been fully mixed and left to stagnate.

She knew well the looks were deceiving; it only looked the size of Luna, if one was observing from halfway between it and Earth.

GG-41 was only slightly smaller than Saturn. Gonzales Station orbited the giant a good distance away to avoid the majority of the radiation it gave off, typical for gas giants. And those clouds were roiling tempests that would've threatened any ship or probe that dared scrape their surfaces.

But even in the distant light of the system's red giant, enough light was reflected off of GG-41 to make the station's surrounding space a little less gloomy.

Another ring rotated slowly above the one she was walking to, smaller, its purpose a little unclear. But some quick maths told her the ring was moving fast enough it'd produce gravity above 1G.

Odd that it'd be needed, as the rest of the station clearly had A-Grav.

She brushed those curiosities aside and approached the station, a few of her fellow crew ahead and behind her, chattering excitedly or tiredly, glad to be on a station that felt sturdy and solid.

Sure, Carla saw more than a few missing panels and a handful of pockmarks from micro-meteoroid impacts, and the rest of the hull showed signs of age, but it looked in good repair, and the interior of the umbilical was clean.

When she finally entered the large ring, the idea the station was worn and aged but in good repair and management was reinforced, the customs area looking rather spartan, several corrals with baggage and body scanners greeting arrivals, with desks either side, very basic seating on the other side of the corrals, a handful of posters and fake plants along the walls, and bright lighting that showed the odd scuff marks on the floor, along with some wear on the walls.

It wasn't dirty, but not pristine either. Not unexpected for a remote outpost.

Unexpectedly, the person behind the counter of the security gate Carla was walking into was a Zamaar, wearing a rather boring grey uniform with the station's symbol - nothing more than a white silhouette of the station above a blue circle - on the left side of their chest, and a nametag on the right, their head spines covered by a tight fitting cap.

They lazily cast their pinkish eyes to Carla.

"Present your pass," they asked, and Carla obliged, showing them a copy of the pass they'd downloaded onto their PDA through the terminal they used in the communications hub.

The Zamaar looked at it, scrutinised it, then checked their own computer. After a few moments, they nodded again. They requested Carla's PDA, and plugged something into it for a few seconds, and then returned it.

"All your credentials are verified and you have been connected to Gonzales Station intranet. Please, enjoy your stay, though we don't have too much on offer."

"That's fine, I'm sure it's got something for me and the crew," Carla answered, nodding politely as she took back her PDA, and finally entered the station.

The hallways inside were a little cleaner, but the grey bulkheads were only occasionally decorated with posters, screens showing landscapes and other imagery, and more occasional fake plants.

The interior was only slightly more spacious than the corridors and decks of the

Tangerine

, and a little less clean.

But perfectly livable, humans and the odd other alien milling about.

These outpost stations were nominally civilian, but given their isolated nature, they weren't exactly 'luxurious', only slightly more homely than military installations. Though they often did have more luxurious amenities available, to offset the isolation.

Stations like this were still home to thousands of people though, and were fully equipped with massive hydroponics bays to support the entire population in crisis scenarios.

They were probably in the upper decks. She could visit them later.

Right now, Carla wanted to see what recreation they had available, and quickly brought up a map of the station; it was a dense construction, rooms and facilities crammed in where they could be to support the sizeable population aboard.

All contained by circumferential corridors that ran the edge of each deck, sporting large windows to give a view of space beyond. It helped with the claustrophobia, apparently.

She made her way to the central structure, leaving the docking ring behind, and meandered further into the station, heading to the central hub.

Something of a 'shopping' district. And where all the recreational facilities were.

"Carla, wait up!" a voice cried out, and she turned around to see Heyto and G'yuun sauntering up to her.

"Oh, hey there," Carla greeted, waiting for any friendly kisses, but none came. Probably because they were off the ship, though if she knew anything about the Zamaar, they were making a conscious effort about it.

"Glad you were off the list of the first shifts. Means we can go together, see what this place is all about," G'yuun responded.

"And you? You're not needed for important 'crew relations' stuff?" Carla asked Heyto.

They shook their head.

"J'mai wants workers right now. Be they from the

Tangerine

or the station. I'm a qualified engineer, but I put emphasis on 'qualified'. Not experienced."

Carla nodded in understanding.

"Well, if not an accurate choice of words, 'girls' day out'?" Carla suggested.

Both Heyto and G'yuun grinned and chuckled to themselves.

"Sounds like a party!" G'yuun remarked enthusiastically.

The three shared a laugh, and made for the central hub of the station.

---

Worn and simple as the station was, the hub really did feel like a mall had been highly compressed into the station, spanning three decks, the middle level with the docking ring. There were cafes and small stores offering all sorts of things, for local credits. In truth, most of the non-consumable items were largely on a 'loan' basis, and one rarely paid for things to wholly own them. In this sort of station, it paid to share, though that didn't mean there weren't

some

things one could buy for themselves.

Though, Gonzales Station was hardly a place for souvenirs; interstellar tourism wasn't exactly a thing.

What it did have was quite an array of recreational activities to help the crew stay sane during the long - and in some cases, all but permanent - postings to the outpost, more than what the

Tangerine

possessed. It even had a full-sized in-door pool, though no high diving boards, not enough space for that.

Most of the crew was human, so the facilities were fairly human-centric, which suited the handful of the Zamaar aboard just fine. But there were accommodations for the other species, though their recreation was not often similar to a human's.

There were VR decks and gyms, Carla went to a book store and paid for digital copies of some text books she felt would aid her study. There was an arcade with a number of different games, including a very vintage 'Nintendo Wii' station, an archaic gaming console from the early 21

st

century. Among a few other consoles of that era, meticulously maintained for being on an outpost station.

They went up to the Hydroponics decks, which filled a large chunk of the topmost portion of the station, the broad, shallowly conical cap of the station ringed with windows along the edges for a bit of light, though this far away from the star, artificial grow lights were the main order of the day.

Hydroponics was incredibly cramped, stacks and stacks of algae and fungi grown in such a manner, alongside a population of fish to achieve aquaponics as well, as to create a sort of closed ecosystem, the station's biowaste providing a lot of fertiliser and feed.

Most of it was off limits, save for the central section at the top; though technically part of Hydroponics, and used to grow food as well, it was arranged like a park, covered with a reinforced glass dome - the supporting frame of which had bright floodlights integrated into it to achieve lighting similar to Sol - and improved with stronger airflow from the station's ventilation system to give the illusion of a gentle breeze.

The trees were fake, but the grass and many of the bushes were real. The fish that swam in the small ponds and streams were real, the water very real, but off limits as it was directly integrated into the aquaponics system, evident by the no fishing and no swimming signs.

A little pagoda sat in the middle, and the three

Tangerine

crewmates sat together and enjoyed the simulated birdsong, the occasional alien chirping mixed with the whistles of Earthen avians.

Carla almost found herself overwhelmed with emotion, the place feeling so... alive, even though she could feel and tell it was largely fake.

But weeks in a freighter, those same grey walls day in, day out, metal beneath her feet and all around, the only greenery around on video screens to make things in certain places feel more spacious than they really were... it all meant just feeling real grass beneath her feet, a breeze and sunlight was enough to almost trick her into thinking she was back home.

If the dome could've projected clear blue skies and fluffy clouds, she might've shed a tear - emotions she understood were not at all unusual for 'spacers' who still remembered life on a terrestrial body.

Not even her friends were immune, Heyto having to brace themself on a wall when they visited a small little enclosed garden meant to simulate the environment on their homeworld, a little retreat made by the resident Zamaar population.

Carla wasn't as taken, feeling a little unsettled amidst the strange, alien plantlife, even if much of it was fake. The atmosphere was also on the cooler side, but quite humid. She had thought the scenes on the monitors back on the freighter were oddly beautiful, but being amongst it all was a different experience.

They returned to the central hub found a small clothing store, but the selection was rather limited, and mostly coverings to put over the top of generic bodysuits to make them a bit more fashionable.

G'yuun bought themself a choker with a magnetic clip, earning an eyeroll from both Carla and Heyto.