tagSci-Fi & FantasyBattlefleet



There she stands, consoles flickering with each blast. Muffled explosions emanate through the ship, a dozen men in uniform jog from one place to the next, each with a sense of purpose, but each with a look of panic. Hands on her hips, she stands calm, eyes darting from one screen to the next. Her lips move, orders given firmly and quickly, with confidence. She doesn't bark, she doesn't shout, but there is authority to her voice. Our Fleet Master can drown out the steady thrum of the engines and the heavy reverberations of explosions without ever raising her voice. The crew dart about; shouting, yelling, running. She is the eye of the storm.

"Dammit!" cried a Chief Gunner at his quivering screen and the gunners beyond, "Fire as they bear, don't waste your time shooting at the fucking stars, wait until you've got a clean shot!"

The ship rocked, shaken by another blast, driving a few new hands off their feet, the veterans quickly grabbing rails to hold themselves up, bending their knees as the ship listed. Still, she stood, leaning into the list, but keeping her feet firmly planted as though she had rooted herself to the deck.

Slowly, the gravity of the ship aligned itself, and the storm of voices and feet continued.

Even as far as the bridge, I could hear the shell casings hitting the deck from the heavy guns. The empty tubes falling from the guns rang as they clanged to the deck.

"Dorsal batteries aren't responding, Fleet Master," shouted a panicked Ensign from his station.

Leaning onto the rail, she stared at the helmsman, "Come about, present our main batteries," then turning quickly to the Chief Gunner, "Hold your fire until every gun is in range."

"Aye, Fleet Master" they responded in unison.

The Unyielding Daylight rolled, still shaking with every hit taken, but the gun batteries ominously silent. It was then that I realized, in a strange, half dazed sort of way, that the ship itself was turning. With artificial gravity, you don't even feel it, as you'd expect, you just sort of see space spinning around you. In this almost shell shocked way, despite the din of battle, I wondered at the notion that outside of our ship, despite all the chaos and fury inside, it was absolutely silent in the vacuum of space.

"Guns are brought to bear, ma'am!" cried the Chief Gunner.

"Give them a broadside."

I felt the concussion in my chest, the impressive display of light as the ship lived up to it's name, blinding as the guns erupted.

The clang of empty shells rang once more, and the sound of metal on metal as the crews deftly reloaded. I could hear it so clearly, because the storm had abated. The bridge was suddenly tense, as if every officer were ready to pounce, flexing their muscles and eying their prey. I allowed myself a glance through the open windows, turning away from my own screen as I did. I thought it was improper, turning away from my work to see what our guns would do, but I was rewarded for the risk. Plumes of flame blossomed from the vessel, dissipating quickly in space, leaving behind scattered scraps of metal, spinning endlessly in the void.

Cheers erupted, officers stood and yelled, pumping their fists in triumph, shaking hands. As I glanced back at the Fleet Master, I saw something she hadn't yet done. She smiled. It wasn't that she were dark and brooding, or overly stern and cold, just that she'd had a goal. It was set, she knew what she needed to do, and she'd done it. Now, she could revel in the glory of the moment.

"Fleet Master," said the navigator, his wide eyes and broad smile betraying the good news, "The enemy vessels are showing their engines, they're fleeing!"

"Shall we pursue?" asked the helmsman.

"Our duty," said the Fleet Master, "Is to provide support for the troops planet side. The enemy fleet fled, we've done our job."

"What bearing shall we take?" asked the Navigator.

"Set us in low orbit, I want us in position to begin an orbital bombardment if necessary. Understood?"

"Aye, Fleet Master"

Turning to her executive officer, a burly man in a pristine uniform, "The bridge is yours. Alert me if we have any more trouble."

"Aye, ma'am."


It was a short while later that I joined the Fleet Master in her quarters. The large, open room doubled as a conference room, as was evident by the long table in the center of the room. It was a nod to the practicality of the Fleet Master that the well kept room had a double purpose.

The walls were smooth and freshly painted. They were divided by dark blue on the bottom, and gray on the top, segregated by a thin gold line. Her large velvet bed sat against one corner of the room, pressed up against the wall with a locker at the foot of the bed, and a bedside table that was bare save for the Uplifting Primer and a single lamp. Unlike much of the ship, the quarters had a pleasant smell to them, devoid of the oil and grease of the rest of the vessel.

Sitting at the table across from me, she sat contentedly. Her uniform was a utilitarian jumpsuit of gray and blue, with gold piping and a gold emblem pinned proudly to her chest. Simple epaulets clung to her shoulders, and her commander's cap sat on the table. Despite the practicality of the uniform and the military bearing of it, or perhaps because of this, she maintained a feminine sensibility. The jumpsuit was simple, practical, and functional, yet accentuated the curve of her body. Her dark hair was tied back, but a few locks hung to either side of her face, framing her expression.

"I'm glad you could join me, scribe," she said with a sly smile arching over her lips.

"It's my pleasure, ma'am," I said, feeling distinctly out of place in my khaki uniform, worn and faded from countless campaigns.

"I understand that your efforts as a scribe are for the benefit of your home planet."

"To be fair," I ventured, "What benefits one of our worlds can benefit all of them."

"A noble effort," she said, brushing a lock of hair from her face.

"I can only hope to have an inkling of the effect you and your fleet have had today. It was very impressive."

"It was nothing," she said humbly, her eyes beginning to bore into me.

"Uh," I said, stumbling over my words, "I, uh, can't help but admit my admiration for you, Fleet Master Aldaran."

She blushed a bit, blinking as her smile grew wider.

"Is there anything I can do to thank you for your efforts?" I asked, feeling my heart race in my chest.

Her fingers wandered to the top button of her jumpsuit, slowly pushing each button through each hole. "There is one thing." With her free hand, never breaking her stare into my gaze, she pressed a button under the table, ordering to an unseen subordinate, "I am not to be disturbed."

"Understood, ma'am," came back a tinny, electronic voice over an unseen speaker.

Standing from her seat, she continued to unbutton the uniform, peeling it open bit by bit, walking deliberately over to the bed.

I stood reluctantly, unsure if she were testing me, but her eyes couldn't lie, and they were confident in their desire. Clumsily, I tugged at my uniform, shrugging off the coat as I made my way to the bed.

She lay back, her uniform open, hair splayed on the pillow. The open jumpsuit allowed me to see the flesh of her body perfectly framed, running down her cleavage, over her belly button, dangerously close to her sex. Between the open uniform, I could see the black bra clinging to her breasts, but it was evident there was nothing more beneath.

Peeling my shirt over my head, I bared my chest, my muscles outlined in the electric lights of her quarters. Climbing enthusiastically onto the bed, I laid on her, kissing behind her ear, feeling her hands on my arms. My lips kissed down the gentle curve of her neck, between her breasts, down to her soft stomach. I felt her fingers in my hair, her body squirming slightly as I caressed her with my lips.

Entwined in my hair, her fingers squeezed and rolled over my head, her toes curling inside her boots. I kissed back up her body, pausing between her breasts, holding them in my hands, easing the uniform open around them. My lips met hers, locking us into an intense, passionate kiss. Through her chest I felt her heartbeat, her thighs pressing against my hips.

Our bodies rocked together, swallowing our choked moans of pleasure. I slid my hands beneath her uniform, over her shoulders, under her epaulets. I remember how she clung to me, her cheek pressed against mine as I eased the clothing down, slowly revealing more of her pale, soft flesh. Her hands slid down my chest, tugging desperately at my fly, opening my trousers. I felt the hefty weight of myself inside them, pressing against my clothes, begging me to break free.

I peeled the jumpsuit down past her thighs, and she pulled her hands away to drag it past her boots. I hadn't realized, truly, what was happening until that moment. I was lying with Fleet Master Aldaran on her velvet sheets, barely clad in my open trousers, blood pumping through my veins as she writhed beneath me in nothing more than a bra and boots. All it took was this moment's hesitation. She planted her hands into my shoulders, spinning me onto my back. It was her turn.

She kissed down my neck, down my chest, pulling my trousers down as she did, stripping me nude. My erection flopped free, throbbing in my lap as her hands rubbed over my thighs. Now I was squirming, writhing against the mattress, grabbing the bedposts in balled up fists so tight, my knuckles turned white.

"Lucy," I groaned, all pomp and rank forgotten in my begging tone.

She only glanced up at me with a devilish smile, wrapping her fingers around my shaft, one after another. I felt myself growing in her grip, my erection hard in her grip. Her hand pumped slowly up and down, torturous in its pace. My head rolled on the pillow, heels digging vainly into the soft sheets, hands flailing for a grip on something, anything. Suddenly she released me. I looked down at her, my chest heaving with every breath, to meet her gaze with mine. Then, as if to assert her dominance, her tongue dragged over me. The full length of my shaft was met with her warm, wet tongue.

I grit my teeth, my muscles tight, her hands wandering up my body, wrapping over my shoulders. I felt her swollen, fleshy sex against my erection, her knees locked to either side of my bare hips, the cold leather of her boots wrapped around my ankles.

"I'm ready for you to show your thanks," she whispered.

My hands wrapped around her hips, almost independent of my own thought, seizing her. My hips rose, pressing the head of my erection against her. At first, her body seemed to resist, but with wide eyes, an an open mouth, her body slowly gave way, enveloping me in her. My full length buried inside her. Aldaran arched her back, her hair draping down behind her like a dark waterfall, eyes shut tight. For a moment, leaning back on me, she shook. A shiver ran through her, her hair stood on end. Together, we pushed our hips into each other, reveling as I felt inside her. For a moment, we stayed there, our hips grinding together, enjoying the pleasure of that first envelopment.

Slowly, at an almost torturous pace, her hips rose from me, sliding up my length, leaving only her sweat and juices as her quivering body lifted from me. Aldaran lurched forward onto me, hands buried in my hair again, hips pushing down hard, driving me in deep. I let out a groan of pleasure, my hands wrapping around her back. She rose and fell, time and again, our hips slapping together.

"Oh god, Lucy," I groaned, sweat beading down my forehead as I rose to meet her each time she thrust down.

She pushed on my shoulders, shoving me onto my back, sitting erect on me, straddling me, her body bouncing onto me, impaling her on me time and again. The mattress creaked under us as our bodies convulsed together. Reaching behind her back, she unlatched the bra, slipping it free one strap at a time, baring her breasts to me, leaving her in nothing but a pair of immaculately polished boots. Unable to resist, I rolled into her, turning her onto her back. My arms wrapped under her knees, spreading her legs to me. Each time I pumped into her, I could hear it. Her skin slapping into mine, our juices squelching together, mixing with our sweat. Her head rolled on the pillow, hands grasping at whatever they could grab.

I kicked against the sheets, pushing her down against them. Together our bodies swayed, like a ship on the ocean. Every thrust brought a new moan, every grasp of her fingers drove me on.

"I'm almost there," I warned, feeling the warm conclusion rising up my shaft.

"Me too," she said breathlessly, with a look of astounded innocence.

Suddenly, my hips blurred into her, driving fast, deep. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, and then I felt it. She poured over me, spilled onto my erection, her body contorting in pleasure, wrapping tighter around me like a vice.

I couldn't hold it back. Pulling out, I grabbed my erection. I erupted onto her, shooting a stream of warm, cloudy cum onto her nude body.

"Lucy!" I cried in pleasure. My fist pumped a few times at my hard erection, encouraging a few more streams of sticky cum onto her. I laid atop her, despite the juices between us, and held her. Panting, we rocked together, recovering from our pleasure.

"Wow," was all I could manage.

Aldaran smiled, giving a peck on the cheek. Panting, trying to catch her breath, she whispered, "I look forward to debriefing you after future engagements."

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