Last Frontier Ep 02 The Anomaly

Author's Note: Like the beloved TV series of which this is a pastiche, the tone of "Last Frontier" is sometimes going to be dark and grittily realistic, and at other times light and somewhat outrageous.

...

The starship Vanguard is seen silhouetted against blackness dotted with myriad points of light, grav drives glowing against the dark background.

Voiceover (a clear, mature, female soprano): "Space is not a fertile field of stars. It is the Last Frontier. The Space Force starship Vanguard explores the starlanes for the Terran Colonies. We bring the hand of peace to those who wish peace. But we wield a sword to defend the Colonies against those who would threaten the innocent. We go where few dare."

...

In the expansive shuttle bay of the Vanguard, Captain Kaede Kawakami was standing just inside the lift doors. As it was first shift, she was dressed for duty in standard Fleet officer's uniform - a dark burgundy jacket with matching kilt hemmed just below the knee, leaving her athletic calves bare above her low uniform boots.

With a Captain's familiarity with every area of her ship, she was relaxedly scanning the space between the Vanguard's shuttles, one of which was powering up for flight.

Behind Kawakami, the lift door dilated open with a whoosh. "Looking for me, Kaede?" came a husky female voice, with just a hint of Highland in the vowels.

Kawakami turned to face the newcomer, a tall, whip-slender Commander in full Fleet dress uniform. While Kawakami had gray strands in her black hair, Second Officer Claire MacKichan's strawberry blonde hair, its length pinned up around her head in a complex braid, had gone fully roan. Compared to Kawakami's hint of crows-feet around the eyes, the far senior MacKichan's face was deeply set, laugh lines firmly etched. She wore the optional dress beret, but on her Hebridean features it seemed more like a Tam O'Shanter.

Kawakami held out her hand to shake in greeting, but MacKichan merely grasped the offered hand firmly and used it to pull Kawakami to herself for a distinctly non-regulation hug.

Breaking contact after a few seconds, Kawakami inquired "What makes you think you can get away with hugging your Captain like that?"

But the veteran Commander just grinned, "What are they going to do? Reassign me to a desk job? Give me early retirement? And how would it look in the news if they cashiered me just two years short of my double twenty, and with an Academy teaching job lined up?" MacKichan's urchin grin was unrepentant.

More subdued, Kawakami continued more quietly. "I'll be lost out there without you, old friend."

Sobering to match Kawakami's tone, MacKichan replied "Aye, you probably will. But young Jordan's a good officer. And he deserves a chance to show it."

Kawakami smiled somewhat ambivalently at that. Lt. Commander Jordan Hoff had indeed put in his time in the Fleet. This was his second tour of duty in space, and wouldn't have made it to one of the Fleet's prime postings if his previous superiors hadn't seen something.

But MacKichan had stayed in her post, ostensibly training Hoff as her replacement, for two years longer than they'd originally discussed - so the canny old warhorse couldn't have been entirely thrilled at the prospect of handing down the reins.

But Hoff wasn't MacKichan's responsibility anymore. He was Kawakami's.

Kawakami tapped her comms badge. "Captain Kawakami speaking," she specified.

"Lt. Farnsworth here, Captain," a musical feminine voice came back almost instantly, as if the duty Communications officer had been waiting for the call.

"Hail the Kestrel, Lieutenant," Kawakami requested. "Shuttle will be docking in ETA..." Kawakami checked her wrist computer. "... seventeen minutes. My compliments to Captain Torres."

Before the Lieutenant had even finished acknowledging with "Aye, Captain," Kawakami cut the connection and turned back to her old friend, who had re-shouldered her kit bag and was preparing to walk to the designated shuttle, which the pilot was just putting through final pre-flight checks.

"Send me a picture of you and your granddaughter Caitlin - she's, what... eleven?"

Cmdr. MacKichan snorted. "Sixteen going on thirty, dearie. She's applying to the Academy next spring. If she makes it past the exam, she'll be in the last class of cadets I'll be teaching."

Kawakami looked rueful. "As if I needed another reminder that the Fleet is a game for the young..."

MacKichan cocked her head. "Young at heart," she corrected cheerfully and stepped past Kawakami. She strode briskly over and entered the passenger hatch without looking back.

"That's just like you, Claire. Never look back," Kawakami mused.

Though her duty was done, Kawakami stayed to watch her old friend's shuttle leave. When the Captain turned back to the turbolift, she was lost in thought.

...

Some time later, nearing the end of a shift uneventful other than MacKichan's departure from the Vanguard, Kawakami was holding down the center seat at the rear focal point of Vanguard's elliptical bridge, athletic legs crossed just below the knee. Kawakami was monitoring the routine activity of the bridge with a fraction of her attention, but her exotic, saturnine face was still reflective. Still thinking about the end of the conversation with her old friend.

When the turbolift doors opened, the preoccupied Kawakami didn't notice. A tenor male voice, slightly nasal and carrying more than a hint of old European money, came from behind the command chair. "Third shift begins in two minutes, Captain. I relieve you."

Jolted into alertness, Kawakami swung the chair around to face the officer who had just entered the bridge.

Striding confidently across the handful of steps from the lift to the command chair was the Vanguard's new Second Officer, Lt. Commander Jordan Hoff. Fairly short for a male officer, Hoff was barely if at all taller than Kawakami herself. His roundish face was nondescript, under a wild mop of sandy hair that was barely regulation. His green eyes, however, were piercing and knowing. He wasn't smiling - in fact, Kawakami could never remember seeing Hoff smile.

"I stand relieved, Mr. Hoff. Any butterflies before your first official shift with the conn?" Kawakami replied when Hoff came to a stop a step away from her.

Hoff's mouth cocked into a strange expression. "Not at all, Captain. I've been thinking about this day for a long time." Kawakami noted that Hoff was unconsciously shifting his weight from foot to foot, as if impatient to take the center seat.

"I'm not surprised. Commander MacKichan trained you well. I have every confidence that you'll take over her role without a hitch," Kawakami said.

Hoff's eyes darkened at the mention of his predecessor and mentor, but his expression didn't change. "Of course, Captain. I am confident that I will fulfill your expectations," Hoff replied.

"Of course you will, Mr. Hoff," Kawakami concluded, as she rose smoothly from the command chair. "The conn is yours." And with a firm nod at the man, Kawakami walked past him and proceeded to the turbolift. When the door whooshed open, Kawakami stepped in, hit the button for the level her quarters were on, and turned as if to survey the bridge one final time.

The bridge vanished from Kawakami's sight as the doors whooshed closed.

...

As the door to the corridor closed behind her, Captain Kawakami was already removing her uniform jacket in order to toss it across her darkened cabin to drape across the back of the more comfortable of the room's two chairs. This action left her torso dressed in just her stretchy, clingy regulation bra.

Kawakami's body temperature was slightly abnormal, and in full uniform she regularly felt uncomfortably hot in public areas of the ship. She had consulted Dr. O'Sullivan, but metabolic regulators were still a black art even for 24th century medicine. However, the Doctor was also quite a rules lawyer in her own right, and had informed the delighted Captain that the standard pullover worn under the regulation uniform jacket was not strictly mandatory. So by her own discretion as Captain, Kawakami had declared that Uniform Of The Day did not require a pullover, and ever since then Kawakami had been more comfortable on the bridge.

Soon Kawakami's uniform kilt followed her jacket, leaving her curvy body bare above the ankles but for tight black underwear hugging her flaring hips and full yet shapely bust. Stopping just outside the alcove where her bed was screened by a low privacy wall, Kawakami closed her eyes and took a few deep, calming breaths, letting the stresses of the day slip from her mind.

After a minute or so, Kawakami shook her head to clear it, tossing her shoulder-length raven hair. She then kicked off her boots, and with practiced, economical gestures returned the bra and panties to the discreet laundry hamper tucked away in the sleeping nook.

As Kawakami stood, she saw her tempting ivory-skinned body in the wall-mounted mirror, totally naked. Unbidden, her hands raised to the top slopes of her generous breasts, almost caressingly.

"Young at heart..." Kawakami mused. Then she turned and stepped past the small bedchamber into the even tinier shower.

Most civilians in the Terran Colonies would have been surprised that the shower was a plain, functional hot/cold running water model, not some high-tech sonic or plasma gizmo. But as the Chief Engineer had reminded his Captain, a starship is a factory for converting waste and water to oxygen and food, which the crew then uses to produce more waste and water. So, within reason, a starship - a closed system - has no need to conserve water, and small luxuries like water showers are allowed.

Which Kawakami was taking advantage of right now, as she stepped inside. She turned the temperature selector to "Very Warm," picked up a tube of soap, and draped a tiny white cloth over the handle. Ducking into the stream, she raised her face fully into the spray.

When she pulled back a half step, Kawakami felt a small thrill of pleasure as the hot water hit her full breasts and her nipples obediently sprang to puffy life. She hadn't realized her boobs would be so sensitized. But then, it had been a while since she had been with a man, so she was on edge.

As Captain, she obviously couldn't sleep with a crew member. It would be difficult to maintain a commander's distance with someone who had seen you raising your ass in the air and begging for a good screwing. Not to mention that all the other senior officers - at least until today - were also female.

Refocusing her mind on the reason she was there, Kawakami dripped soap along her collarbone and rubbed it in to create a thin lather over her neck and shoulders. Then, turning away from the spray, a larger drizzle over her upstanding breasts and trim belly to be rubbed all over and into her smooth ivory flesh.

Then Kawakami took the washcloth from the handle and repeated the action with each toned leg, bending double to run the cloth down each firm thigh and sleek calf in turn.

Standing again to face the spray, Kawakami ran the soft cloth over one sensual breast, only for the stiff nipple to respond again with a throb of passion. She repeated the action with the other breast, only for that sensitive nub to react even more fiercely.

Continuing downward, more carefully, Kawakami ran the fine washcloth down and over her flat belly, then into her pubic hair, soaked to midnight-black from the water sheeting down her torso. With her vulva and clitoris starting to become sensitive, Kawakami used the cloth very gingerly, almost tentatively, between her thighs. Being careful not to set off any untimely fireworks. It was still quite pleasurable, however, and it took an effort of will not to give in to temptation and rub her stiff clitoris until her legs gave out.

Not yet.

So, with a regretful sigh, Kawakami rinsed the washcloth thoroughly and used it and the spray to give a final rinse to her sensitized flesh - breasts, tummy, butt, and thighs. The hot, running water was still working magic on her sweetly swelling labia as it sheeted down her lush body.

Switching the shower from hot water to hot air, Kawakami was not surprised when the torrid drying wind had nearly as much effect on her sensitive erogenous zones as her hands and the humid spray had.

Soon dry - at least on the outside - Kawakami left the shower cube and found herself back in her sleeping cubby, once again looking directly at her own bare body in her dressing mirror.

The woman Kawakami saw in the mirror was transformed from the proper, professional Captain who had entered the cabin. This woman was pure sex. Eyes burning, deep breaths causing her heavy breasts to jiggle, puffy pink nipples thrusting into the cooler air of the cabin, flushed skin over cheeks and collarbone, flat belly fluttering, and curvy hips quivering with need.

"Young at heart," Kawakami breathed.

Kawakami raised trembling hands to the ivory column of her throat, and brushed her fingertips down to the upper slopes of her generous breasts. Then further down the sensitive flesh to her tight areolae and proud, dusky pink nipples. The mere contact sent a thrill straight down Kawakami's spine to her moistening pussy.

She'd been without a man for too long. From long experience, Kawakami knew what she needed right now.

Kawakami climbed onto her narrow bed, and retrieved her "tension reliever" from its accustomed cubbyhole in her bedstand. The large sex toy was a slightly darker shade of ivory than Kawakami's skin. It had been 3d-printed using one of the polymers originally developed by the Fleet for tubing in the engineering accessways, and the smooth surface was soft but not at all sticky, and was low-friction even with minimal lubrication.

When there was no man available, this was the next best thing.

Eagerly, Kawakami reached down between her spread thighs and ran the tip of the toy up and down through the slit between her swollen lower lips. Lube wasn't going to be a problem - she was already dripping with moisture. The bulbous head slipped in easily. Sighing with pleasure, Kawakami savored the sensation as she slid it in further.

As Kawakami worked the tool inside, through long practice she quickly found the sensitive node of her G-spot, sending shivers through her whole lower body. She sank the tip a couple inches deeper and as her inner muscles squeezed the welcome invader.

The mounting pleasure caused her mind to drift.

Kawakami's mind went back to memories of herself on the Centaurus Research Station. The previous year, the Vanguard had transported some Earth scientists, along with the Vanguard's own First Officer Sylith, to a conference there. The Chief Scientist there, Dr. Castellano, was a quite dashing native of Earth - of European extraction, tall and graceful.

At the formal reception, he had dexterously used his position to cut Kawakami out of the herd and escort her onto the dance floor. Dr. Castellano's dancing was elegant and graceful, and somehow he had managed to inject a sensual element into even the most formal of regimented dances. Kawakami had been swept off her feet even before the tango that concluded the evening. In Dr. Castellano's debonair style, that last tango had practically been foreplay as he led her through the steps, hands constantly on one part of her body or another.

Kawakami had had no inclination to protest when immediately after the dancing was over, Dr. Castellano had escorted her out of the reception and down the station's corridors to his quarters, one hand on Kawakami's kilted ass.

Five minutes later, Kawakami had found herself sitting on the edge of Dr. Castellano's bed, wearing only stockings. The tall doctor had been equally naked, standing before her, the tip of his large, veiny erection pointed dangerously up toward Kawakami's face. Completely seduced, Kawakami hadn't hesitated before kissing her way up and down the firm shaft, then taking the swollen tip into her mouth.

Kawakami had been dripping with arousal by the time Castellano had pushed her back onto the covers before climbing between her splayed thighs to initiate a horizontal kind of dancing.

Reaching up to tweak one large, swollen nipple, Kawakami pushed the sex toy deeper into her slick inner channel.

Kawakami moaned as it stretched out her tight inner muscles. She was so desperately horny right now after so long without a man... There was no pain, but when she pulled the toy back in order to thrust it powerfully in again, the sensation of being deeply penetrated was shiveringly intense.

The familiar sex toy wasn't quite the same as the real thing, but it was doing the job.

Kawakami lay fully back on her bunk, spreading her toned thighs even further. As she set up a rhythm of quick, shallow thrusts, Kawakami couldn't help letting out a soft cry of pleasure. She began to squirm, wriggling from side to side, as the big shaft worked its magic up and down the sensitive front wall of her pussy. Thick inner moisture coated it from base to tip, and was even beginning to leak out to drip onto the bedcovers.

As the pleasure grew, Kawakami's mind drifted again.

It was dark, and hot, and Kawakami could feel sand on her bare back. This was the asteroid cave where she had seduced an enemy Captain. She looked up as she had months before - and there he was, looming over her. Green skin, pupilless eyes and face a blend of human and reptile. Clawed green fingers had been already reaching for her bare, hanging breasts.

The rough skin of the alien's palms had brushed Kawakami's large, sensitive nipples as he groped and squeezed, all of it sending thrills shooting through her. Kneading fingers had squeezed, so firmly as to be almost rough, sinking deep into her jiggling titflesh. Like many large-breasted women, Kawakami's boobs had always been special erogenous zones, and the reptile man's groping had quite effectively turned her on.

He had then turned his attention to her nipples, which by then had been standing hard and stiff, nearly the size of a man's fingertip in her arousal. But soon the alien had tired of the boob-play and stripped Kawakami of her uniform kilt and panties.

Because this had been part of Kawakami's plan, she had forced herself to watch in simulated reluctance as he stripped off his own uniform trousers to reveal an enormous, snaky green erection.

Then, as a victor claiming his spoils, the dominant alien had climbed on top of Kawakami and taken her in a single penetrating thrust, even deeper than she had expected from the sight of his toned body.

As if simulating what the alien Captain had done to her, Kawakami pushed the sex toy to its full depth in her sopping channel.

Kawakami resumed a thrusting rhythm, halfway out, then in to the base, then again - steady and inexorable. She could feel her inner muscles clenching around the smooth, slick material. There was no way she could stop now even if she wanted to.

Kawakami raised her knees higher, giving herself a better angle to impale her boiling channel more forcefully. She was frankly panting now, letting out little squeals when the toy brushed over one of her sensitive spots. Her back arched, nipples thrusting toward the ceiling, but her hands never stopped their beavering rhythm.

Kawakami's thighs were quivering and her lower body was wriggling, unable to keep still as pleasure shot through her.

The sensations the rough thrusts were causing deep in Kawakami's burning pussy caused her fevered brain to drift again to the past.

The reptile man had roughly pounded her, pinning her to his bedroll as his enormous cock plundered her innermost depths. His enthusiasm and endowment had combined to stretch and pleasure Kawakami's pussy as he nailed her powerfully. The climax that Kawakami's dominant rival had wrung out of her had been as mind-melting as it had been unexpected.