[Note: This Science Fiction story is an
intense character study
with occasional sex scenes.]
Bill Kenilworth didn't drop out that day.
But Natasha Romanov did, and it wasn't even Sergeant Chappie who scored the kill.
It happened in the quiet space of the Galactic Physics classroom.
After they got the results of their third quiz, the teacher, Captain Waverly, asked Natasha to see him after class.
Then, two hours later, as Taylor was getting ready for dinner, he saw Natasha, wearing civilian clothes, saying goodbye to people as she lugged a heavy virtual suitcase.
"Natasha, what happened?" Taylor asked.
"Galactic Physics, that's vhat happened," said Natasha, smiling sadly.
"Did they drop you?"
Natasha shook her head. "They asked forrr my RFD. I gave et. I failed three quizzes in a row. It didn't make any sense for me to stay any longar." She looked up at Taylor. "I'm sorry ve never got the chance to get to knauw each other better."
"I'm... I'm sorry too," said Taylor, shifting uncomfortably. The wall he was leaning on had suddenly grown warm. "What will you do now?"
Natasha shrugged. "Go home to Putingrad. Find something else to do. It's a small galaxy, Michael. Maybe ourrr paths will cross again, eh?"
Taylor agreed that they would. He watched her leave, as she lugged her heavy virtual suitcase.
Taylor felt an arm on his shoulder. It was Cherry Oteri. "Did you miss out on a big opportunity, Michael?"
"I, ah, I was just saying goodbye," said Taylor.
Cherry smiled. Taylor was so easy to embarrass! "Everyone said she was a spy for Russia, you know. But if she was a spy, you'd think they would have sent one that knew more galactic physics than she did, right?"
"Right," said Taylor. He looked concerned, deep in thought.
"Dinner's on. Are you coming?" Cherry asked.
"Yeah, sure," said Taylor, still looking distracted.
********
Natasha's unexpected departure had created some uncomfortable thoughts in Taylor's mind. Taylor realized that it could have been him lugging a big heavy virtual suitcase to the exit. His grades in Shipboard Mechanics were especially worrying.
But now he was receiving personal tutoring from his instructor, Lieutenant Commander Sarah Blade.
The first time Taylor reported for his tutoring session, he was incredibly nervous. Should he bring flowers? No, flowers were for a date, and this most definitely was
not
a date.
But he was going to the Lieutenant Commander's personal quarters! He decided not to bring anything.
If it had been anyone else, a male teacher, or even one of the other female instructors, Taylor wouldn't have been nervous, or at least, not as nervous as he was. But there was something about Sarah Blade, something... decidedly sensual about her. About her smile. About the way she looked at him. Taylor wondered if it was all in his mind, if he were imagining the attraction he thought she might feel for him. He sincerely hoped so.
When she opened the door, Taylor blinked. She was dressed in civilian clothes. Gone was her blue and black military uniform. Now her raiment was as white as Taylor's cadet uniform, only what she was wearing was much more form fitting. He could clearly see every outline of her full, round breasts, every contour of her nicely shaped ass and joining between her legs in the tight white blouse and pants she had put on.
"Michael, good to see you. Come in, close the door, have a seat," she said, turning and striding towards the living room. Michael took a deep breath as he watched her ass cheeks clench and unclench and her hips sway as she walked across the room. "Are you coming, or shall we have your lesson at the front door?"
Mike, remembering what she had said, closed the door and came to the sofa. It was soft and white and luxurious... just like her. In his mind, her sofa had SEX written all over it.
"Would you like something to drink?" She said, going into the kitchen, which was open to the living room.
"Drink?" Michael asked.
"You know, a liquid beverage. It's ingested, down the throat. Some wine, perhaps?"
"No!" he said hastily. Too firmly, perhaps. "No thank you," he said, trying to soften it a bit.
Sarah shrugged, pouring herself one. "I find a little wine helps me focus, sometimes. Too much, of course, has decidedly different effects." She smiled at him, and he blushed.
She sat down on the sofa. "Would you like to sit down, or go over your assignment standing up?" Her tone was critical, but her eyes were filled with mischief.
"I'll sit," said Taylor. For a moment, he wrestled over where to sit. Too close to Sarah could be... dangerous. But too far could offend her.
"If you're that afraid, you can sit on the far end of the couch. We can toss the Pad back and forth to each other as we work," said Sarah.
She was taunting him, shaming him. Taylor sat down right next to her.
"Much better," she said, giving him an appraising look. "Are you ready to begin?"
"Yes," said Taylor, and he was relieved when they spent the next ninety minutes talking about Shipboard Mechanics, and only Shipboard Mechanics.
Maybe he had just been imagining things. Maybe he had just misinterpreted Sarah's flirtatiousness. Sometimes flirtation meant just that, flirtation, nothing more.
And yet... as Sarah tutored him in the finer points of Shipboard Mechanics, some part of Taylor sensed that something else was going on.
Sarah ran him through some of the problems from his last test that he was unable to solve correctly. She explained how the different control panels interacted throughout a starship. She looked Taylor in the eye. "Have you ever heard a starship called a 'she', Michael?"
"Sure," said Taylor.
"That's because starships are a lot like women," said Sarah, in a soft, seductive voice. Taylor noticed she had luscious red lips.
"Ma'am?"
"You have to understand how their bodies work," said Sarah. "And you have to know how to treat them right. If you operate their controls in the right way, they'll do whatever you want."
Taylor noticed that Sarah had sparkling green eyes that smiled at him.
"Now, let's trace that pesky circuit that's been giving you so much problem." They dove back into the mechanics of shipboard operations, and went through some more examples. There was one problem from his homework that Taylor couldn't solve. A malfunctioning console. He had tried to do a diagnostic with a probe, but it didn't tell him anything useful.
"That's because you didn't put your probe in the right place," said Sarah, giving him a little half smile. "Here, let me play with your Pad and I'll show you."
Taylor let her manipulate his Pad. "You see, you were using the probe to test this circuit
here
. But what you really should have been doing was testing that circuit...
there
. You were putting it in the wrong hole." She smiled at him, and Taylor shivered. "All right, Mike, you try it now."
Taylor used his finger to indicate the place on the schematic where he wanted the probe to go. "Nothing," he said, looking for feedback.
"That's because you didn't do it correctly," said Sarah. "You can't just plunk your tool in and out like that. You're jabbing the tool into a hole like it's some sort of... thing you just jab into holes with." She smiled as she saw Taylor flinch and look down guiltily.
"No, part of this exercise is teaching you how to properly use your tool, how to manipulate it properly," said Sarah softly.
"That wasn't in the instructions," said Taylor.