Parasite invasion of the Federation.
Author's notes: Just a human science geek saving the Federation. Hope you enjoy it.
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Al Cooper yawned and rubbed his eyes. It seemed like a long Watch. As a guest aboard the Intrepid, he did not have to pull Watch like the other crew members. Certainly, the FCDPC didn't require it. He had found that it made better relations if he took on some of the responsibilities aboard. On those occasions when he had to take command, it benefited him. After all, being the Federation Communicable Disease and Parasite Control officer, he wielded a lot of power. It was often life and death.
As the FCDPC senior officer in the region, or as the insiders called it, the Org, a play on words, organisms, and organization, he was always on the lookout for epidemics. There were three categories, Incident, Outbreak, and Level One.
An Incident was when a disease process had slipped the bounds of gravity, spread to several colonies, and was the most serious. His sole job was containment, and it took on all the dark reality it implies. Not a soul could be allowed in or out of the quarantined region. The Intrepid, a converted freighter, had been retrofitted for that purpose. Its hold was as large as ever, and The Intrepid plied the various outposts trading and transporting goods like any other. It was also at the same time at the beck and call of the FCDCP officer in the event there was a need. For that service, a rather large stipend was paid each Federation month by the FCDCP.
Its retrofitting included the addition of weaponry capable of engaging and destroying several Federation battle cruisers simultaneously. This was necessary because what if one or more were caught in a containment area and tried to fight their way out, or worse, a planet unleashed its defenses? The Intrepid also had six huge anti-matter, hyper-light-speed engines. This made it faster than any Federation warship. Its speed and power could only be matched and exceeded by one of the two FCDCP main laboratory ships, the Kasogi and Enterprise that guarded the region.
The Federation bureaucrats didn't want to panic the public, so they titled the level Incident a somewhat benign term to stave off panic. Whatever it was named, an Incident was a horrifying spectacle of death as a contagion ravaged the main planet and colonies. In an Incident, Al was not the bringer of salvation but the angel of death. The purpose of the cargo hold was to dispose of infected corpses into the nearest sun if needed, its speed to bring containment to bear quickly, and its armaments to enforce the power and authority of the Federation. Al had never experienced one in real life, only in training simulations and reports generated during one, and hoped he never would.
Level two, known as an Outbreak, was when a disease epidemic engulfed its home planet. Truly this was no minor undertaking, but he was a kinder, gentler fellow. He could use his considerable skills to contain, study, and treat the plague. A Level One was simply an epidemic relegated to a corner of a planet, and he could play the savior.
Today was the thirty-seventh since he cleared up the Outbreak on Omni 75, an Insectoid colony having a false alarm. A particularly nasty bug, no pun intended, turned out not to be what was suspected initially, and the situation had rectified itself with relative ease.
Incidents were uncommon, thankfully, but Outbreaks and Level Ones were more common, and in this time of lack of excitement and purpose, Al was bored. This was the longest dry stretch he remembered. He had gotten into the practice of reviewing his notes and currently had reviewed all his notes for the last four-hundred days twice.
The massive hyper-light-speed engines produced a prodigious amount of heat. The Intrepid, crewed by Delta Thetas, used the excess heat to keep the temperature higher than Al liked, so he sweat and chaffed a lot.
Captain Russell, a female Delta Theta, captained the ship. Al and Captain Russell were friends, each tracing their ancestry to Sol Prime. They were not only in the broad humanoid classification they were truly human, a narrow classification defined as someone who traced their lineage directly to Sol Prime, previously known as Earth. However, they did not look a lot alike. They were hundreds of generations from Sol Prime, and their ancestors were hundreds of generations divergent from each other. Evolution and genetic manipulation caused quite some variation.
Captain Russell's line came from the Delta Theta colonies. They had six fingers and were very thin compared to most other human subgroups, with large pointed ears similar to the mythical fairies. Males and females had almost no brow ridge, enlarged skulls, and barrel chests due to the lesser oxygen levels on their planet. In the female, their large, protruding, perfectly cone-shaped breasts appeared even more voluptuous. So a Theta's breasts, topped with enticingly large pink areolas and long nipples, were sights to see. Their home planet maintained a relatively high temperature, and the increased surface area from height and large ears helped the inhabitants to control their temperatures. The prodigious amounts of heat generated by the anti-matter faster-than-light engines kept the chiefly female Delta Theta crew warm enough and who wore little in the way of uniforms. Their skin color was light, and except for the hair on their head, they, even the males, were nearly hairless.
Al traced his ancestry to the Omicron Colonies. Commonly known as Omis, they were very human-like, with little distinguishing them from the original human inhabitants of Earth. They were generally stronger physically than most other human subgroups because of the greater gravity on the Omicron colonies, and their skin color was considerably darker than the Thetas. Otherwise, they were pretty much indistinguishable from the original humans. The main distinguishing difference between the Delta Theta and Omicron is something we will get to shortly.
The female Theta sitting at the helm turned her head and smiled enticingly. She had her day uniform on, which was a loincloth. Simply a band around her waist slung low on the hips and two triangular pieces of shimmery clingy cloth that hung down one in front and back. The pieces went from mid-thigh to mid-thigh and descended to a point just above the knee. She wore nothing else and shifted, causing the delicate cloth triangles to part, almost giving him a glimpse of her pussy. Her cone-shaped tits blushed pink, as were her cheeks and neck that sported the usual long delicious pink nipples surrounded by a moat of the luscious pink areola.
"Want to get together after watch, Al?" she breathed excitedly.
"I don't know, Mindy," he said, irritated that this was the tenth time she had asked him during the Watch.
With that, Mindy pulled the front piece of cloth aside and exposed her hairless and open glistening wet pussy to him.
"Are you sure? It will be as much fun as last time. I promise," she cooed.
