Battlestar

Samantha winks, "Well, you don't want some fumbling inexperienced boy to be your first anyway... And believe me, once he finds out you're still a virgin.., he's yours for life."

Helga looks up at her, "How, um, 'experienced' is he actually?"

Samantha smiles, "Don't worry, you won't end up a notch on a bedpost." She thinks for a moment, "I have served with Benjy for almost nine years now, and as far as I know there have only been two women during that time. The first one was about five years back, the second one just over two years ago; neither of those relationships lasted more than a couple of months I think. And whenever the squadron went on shore leave, some innocent fun aside, he never got himself involved with the 'ladies of the night' either."

Samantha's face turns sad, "And before he got rescued..., well, he once told me he was engaged at the time he went missing in action. The girl he was engaged to never took another man, let herself be put into cryo the day he was officially declared killed in action, to wait for his return."

"What happened?" Helga asks.

Samantha hesitates, "The cryo facility she was stored at.., it was on Grendel."

Helga feels her blood turn cold, shakes her head, "No."

Samantha nods, "It got vaporized when your people nuked the planet, just seven months before his escape pod finally got recovered."

She realizes the pain that must have caused him, and feels tears start running down her cheeks, "No," she whimpers, feeling her heart cringe.

Samantha gets up, and sits herself down on the wide armrest of Helga's chair. She pulls her close, and hugs her, "God, you really do love him."

Helga sobs, "The Federation killed her, after all that time, my people killed her. How can he not hate us, how can he not hate me? I don't understand..."

She feels Samantha sigh, "This war combined with his previous ones, he's been fighting for nearly two decades. And that first war he fought was the big one against the Scourge, where those nasty fuckers got as good as wiped out. He has seen horrors neither of us can even imagine, it puts things into perspective I guess." It fits with what he had said that first time they met, Helga feels herself calm. "He once told me," Samantha continues, letting go of her, "that all that time he slept in cryo, he dreamed she was sleeping next to him, that he slept with her for three centuries. He was a bit drunk at the time though."

Helga wipes away her tears, "That's.., that's a rather beautiful thought."

"It sure is," Samantha smiles.

Helga straightens, "I want to sleep with him, tonight." She swallows, "But if I show up at the 37th's quarters with an overnight bag everyone will know why I'm there right?"

Samantha shrugs, "Probably." She blushes again, Samantha chuckles, reaches out, places a hand on her shoulder, "I'll be waiting for you at the hangar bay entrance to our quarters at 20:00 sharp, smuggle you in, alright?"

Helga sighs relieved, "Thank you Samantha."

Anticipation

Back at her quarters Helga looks at the clock displayed on the wall mounted vid screen, it's 14:17 ship time, almost six hours to go. It also shows the hyper countdown; sixty four hours until they come out of hyper again. Then they'll re-charge for the last leg, into the battle zone. She had worried about it, about going to war, now she's more worried about what's going to happen in six hour's time.

She first busies herself trying to decide what to wear. Her uniform and flight gear aside, though, she has only some leisure wear available. She really hasn't a clue about what will be expected for an occasion like this either. She quickly checks her off-hours wardrobe; comfy leggings, trendy camo pants, T-shirts, sweaters, no dress or skirt in sight. And it doesn't get any better where the underwear is concerned. It's all 'regulation' stuff, comfy panties and sturdy bra's, it's all pretty prudish really, certainly not the stuff a 'seductress' would wear.

She blushes at the term; Helga the seductress... With the battlestar being home to over 18,000 crew there actually is a small shopping center on board, and it will no doubt have stuff on stock a seductress would like to wear. She doesn't look forward to going shopping for stuff like that though: she can already imagine the knowing looks she'll no doubt get. With the vid of her rescue having gone viral everyone will know for whom she's buying the naughty underwear.

But that's a hurdle to take when the time comes, if the time comes, anyway. She really hasn't a clue when it comes to Nordic morals and customs after all. She doesn't know what Nordic men like, and where they put the line between 'exciting' and 'whorish' for instance. The last thing she wants is to end up giving him the wrong impression. She sits herself at her small desk and links into the ship's system, then starts browsing through the mountain of general info on the Nordic Empire the Nordicans had brought with them.

And so she learns that being prevented from serving at the sharp edge of the military isn't the only exception to the generally pretty emancipated position of Nordic women. In general Nordic men are dominant inside the bedroom apparently, and most Nordic women like it that way. They like getting 'ravaged' by 'manly' men. And where it comes to naughty underwear those 'manly' men seem to mostly prefer no underwear at all.

Well, that at least spares me an embarrassing visit to the shopping center, she thinks. The part about Imperial men being dominant in the bedroom doesn't faze her, it arouses her, and without any actual experience she wouldn't know how to be dominant in the bedroom herself anyway. The only thing that bothers her is the 'ravaged' part, she's still a virgin after all, and the idea of a man the size of Benjy getting 'manly' with her inexperienced body simply scares her.

Thinking it over though, she quickly realizes that he loves her and would never really hurt her, at least not beyond what's apparently inevitable when you're having your cherry popped. So she doesn't need naughty underwear, but what to do with her upper clothing? Should she get herself a dress or something? That's when another realization hits, He fell in love with a girl wearing a flight suit, he isn't going to mind peeling such a suit off of you, nor anything else you might be wearing.

So she simply lays out one of her camo trousers and a nice cream sweater, and then decides, in the light of assumed Imperial male preferences, to reduce her normal underwear choice to just a pair of panties. Her girls don't really need any support anyway, despite their considerable size. With the clothing issue resolved, and her knowledge regarding Imperial mating habits much improved, she hits the showers, again.

With the warm water soothing her nerves her thoughts wander to the sad love story she just heard. There is no doubt Benjamin was deeply in love with this girl he had, in some way, been engaged to for three centuries. On some level she worries she won't be able to fill the huge gap she must have left behind, and wonders if that has been the reason those two earlier relationships he has had since he got rescued hadn't lasted.

But what worries her even more is that she somehow can't escape the feeling she's intruding. They were deeply in love, and didn't part freely: they were torn apart by circumstances beyond their control. She knows it's ridiculous, but somehow she can't shed the feeling that she's stealing another woman's man. The other side of the story, of course, is that no one deserves, and probably needs, her love as much as Benjamin does.

And if she really loved him as much as you think she did, she will want for him to be happy, for you to love him to bits. That last thought especially strengthens her resolve to succeed, to make him hers. She meticulously grooms herself, which mainly comes down to removing all the hair below her neck except for a small 'landing strip' on her pubis. On the way back to her quarters she goes by the wing's mess room to score a couple of sandwiches.

She doesn't want to join her mates for dinner, to avoid being asked questions she doesn't know or want to answer just yet. Once back at her quarters she applies some make up, just a light touch here and there, as usual. It's close to 19:00 by now, she downs the sandwiches she picked up at the mess room earlier, despite not really being hungry. She's simply too nervous and, as she suddenly realizes, very aroused.

She unzips her pants and slides a hand inside the front of her panties, checks herself, and comes up blushing. Fuck, you're almost dripping. She cleans herself with some tissues, changes into a fresh pair of panties, adding a small sanitary towel, just to be sure. Feeling clean again she prepares her overnight bag. By the time she's finished it's almost time to leave, but before leaving she gets out her prized little bottle of Shalimar, applying the perfume with discretion, and maybe some indiscretion too.

***

Arriving at the hangar bay a couple of minutes before 20:00 Helga's relieved to find Samantha already waiting for her.

The pretty crew chief throws her a warm smile, then hooks her arm and leads her down the corridor towards the 37th's quarters "That's a very nice perfume, and very exotic," she remarks, "What is it?"

Helga smiles back, her nervousness quickly dissipating, "It's Shalimar, a classic French perfume."

"I didn't notice it on you before," Samantha says, grins, "I also didn't notice you going bra-less before either."

Helga blushes, "Is it that obvious?"

Samantha chuckles, "Don't worry, only for the observant onlooker."

She brings her arms up beneath her breasts, restricting their movement beneath the sweater, "I read somewhere the underwear Nordic men like most is no underwear at all."

Samantha laughs, "That's correct, most do, you came well prepared I see."

They end up at a place she has been to before, "Your quarters?" she asks surprised.

Samantha nods, and winks, "Yes, we are going to add some finishing touches first, if you don't mind..."

Helga shrugs, "If you think it'll help." She follows Samantha in, and finds herself parked in the middle of the room. Her mentor takes a couple of steps back and studies her. Helga sounds apologetic, "My military kit aside, I only have leisure clothing like this."

Samantha grins, 'Doesn't matter, I have something much better for you anyway."

Helga raises her eyebrows, the crew chief is half a head taller than her, as are most Nordic women. "You have something that'll fit me?" she asks doubtful.

Samantha nods, "Yep, so get out of those comfy clothes: we're going to make sure the man hasn't a snowball's chance in hell once he has laid eyes on you."

Helga blushes, Samantha grins, "No need to be shy girl, I have a pair of those too you know." Helga slips out of her sneakers, grabs the hem of her sweater and removes the garment over her head. Samantha whistles, "My girl, I have a nice pair too, but those are perfection, Benjy is a lucky man." Helga blushes again, then unbuckles and drops her camo trousers and steps out of them. "You only went half-way I see" Samantha chuckles, then she frowns, looking down at her panties, "Are you having your period? That might complicate matters a bit."

Helga blushes fiercely, she had all but forgotten about the sanitary towel. "Erm, no, you see, I was sort of, erm, leaking a bit."

Samantha blinks, then laughs again, "Oh my, no need to bring the lube then." She feels awful, Samantha reaches out and touches her cheek, "No need for embarrassment honey, you're hot for him, that's perfect." She watches her move away and pick something up from the little desk. It's a garment of sorts, Samantha unfurls it in front of her. It's a sort of sleeveless dress in what looks like white cotton, and it's entirely open from the sides, basically just a rectangular cloth with a center hole in it, she gasps. "Put it on," Samantha says," handing it to her.

She does as asked, then Samantha reaches around her, placing a thick cord around her waist, then tightening it and knotting it on top of her right hip. The soft garment covers her to halfway down her thighs, the deep V front revealing a lot of cleavage, and the open sides a lot of side boob. "It's a camisk," Samantha says, stepping back from her and taking her in, "It covers me to just below my pussy, on you it's just a bit too long, but it will work just fine."

Helga swallows, "It doesn't leave much to the imagination, and it offers no protection at all,"

Samantha chuckles, "That's the whole intention honey, it invites a man to physically explore.

Helga looks at the hatch with trepidation, "I can't go out there like this!"

Samantha laughs again, "You'll be wearing a robe over it, silly girl!" The mentioning of a robe calms her, Samantha nods in the direction of her dressing table, "Now get your butt on that stool, we're not finished yet." The next half an hour or so Helga watches Samantha braiding her long dark hair into a spectacularly intricate work of art in the mirror. When she's ready she moves a smaller hand mirror around her back, showing her the result: Helga's speechless, never in her life has she looked as stunningly beautiful as this.

"Yeah," Samantha says, "You're drop dead gorgeous, like I said; the poor bastard won't stand a chance." Samantha gestures her to rise, she stands, "Now turn for me." Helga makes a three sixty. Samantha nods, "Perfect, now get out of those awful panties and you're ready to conquer."

She blushes, "I might leak,"

Samantha cocks her head, "And do you really think him seeing your excitement for him dripping down your legs will work against you?" Samantha moves over to the small desk area again while Helga removes her panties, returns with a small package, and presents it to her.

It looks like a fluffy white towel in a clear wrap, marked 'Helga' in nicely calligraphed blue letters. She accepts it, "Erm, thank you. That's a nice towel."

"It's a very special towel," Samantha says in a mysterious tone, "It has been treated with something that preserves stains..." It takes a moment for the penny to drop, then she blushes fiercely. "It's an old tradition," Samantha continues, "you place it beneath you before..,"

"Before he pops me." Helga finishes for her.

Samantha nods, "For an old fashioned guy like him, it's the mother of all gifts. Not as a tool for bragging, not for public consumption at all, but to relish and worship in private for the rest of his life."

She looks down at the wrapped towel, her eyes becoming misty, 'Where.., How..,"

Samantha shrugs, "It's an old tradition, but the towels are still in the quartermaster's inventory. It was getting your name on it at short notice that proved to be a real son of a bitch," she grins, "until I mentioned the exact name I wanted printed on it that is."

Helga hugs her tightly, "Thank you Samantha. Thank you so much for everything."

Samantha walks over to her desk, activating the com screen. A couple of quick finger movements later the connection opens, seconds pass, "Yes, Benjy here?" his voice gives her goose bumps.

"Hi Benjy, it's Sam, I have something for you, if you aren't too busy."

A short silence, "You want to share a bottle of Scotch again? Only if you promise to tell me the name of the asshole this time, so I can kick his butt for hurting my favorite crew chief."

Samantha chuckles, "No, you big ape, nobody broke my heart this time, it's something else, but at least as important."

Another short silence, "You really have me curious now. I'm working on some squadron paperwork, but it's nothing that can't wait. Your place or mine?"

Samantha winks at Helga, "Your place."

"Okay," she hears Benjy answer, "See you in five."

Helga puts the towel on top of her cloths inside her overnight bag, feeling anxious again. She next puts on the robe Samantha hands her, then picks up the bag. When she looks up again Samantha is already waiting for her by the hatch, she uses her free hand to draw the bathing robe closed. "Benjy's quarters are nearby," Samantha says, "It's not unusual to run into people in bathing robes around this time, should we run into people just keep me between them and you and they probably won't even notice you.." Helga sighs, and nods. "Ready?" the crew chief asks.

"Yes," she answers, feeling wetness between her labia, "As ready as I'll ever be."

The Lovers

Benjy's quarters are indeed only a short walk away. They meet no one on the way, and she finds herself standing in front of his hatch in no time. Samantha pecks her cheek, "Good luck Helga," she says, then hits the com button next to the hatch.

"Yeah, come in," his voice sounds. The hatch slides open, she hesitates, a hand firmly pushes against her back. Helga half stumbles inside his quarters: they are bigger than hers, or Samantha's. She finds him standing at his desk, his back towards her. The hatch closes behind her, "So what brings..." he starts, while turning around.

He stops mid-sentence, "Hi Benjamin," she says, dropping the bag, and then her robe.

"Helga, I..."

"Do you love me?" she interrupts him. He hesitates, "On your honor," she adds.

He blushes, "Yes, I love you, but..."

"I love you too," she interrupts him again, "On my honor." He looks lost, she closes on him, "And no, I'm not mistaking gratitude for love." She stops in front of him, locking eyes with him: he's clearly in turmoil, "You can't declare your love for me, by trying to die with me, and then, when I accept you, shred my honor and break my heart. You can't be so cruel."

He swallows, "I didn't..,"

"On your honor?" she interrupts him again.

"I just wanted to save your life," he tries.

She nods, "And if you failed, you didn't want to live anymore."

He swallows, his eyes soften, "Yes, sort of..."

She puts her hands on his hips, "I'm twenty three, I'm a grown woman, and I don't give a shit about you being a bit older. I love you, and I only care about what you feel for me." With that she rises onto her toes for the second time that day, cocks her head and places her lips on his. He kisses her back, like he had before, but this time he doesn't stop. She feels an arm moving around her back, while their tongues dance around each other, then the hand belonging to his other arm slides inside the front of the camisk.

He gently cups one of her breasts, then the other one; his fingers move up it, circling a nipple. He comes up for air, "Oh god," he moans.

She kisses his neck, "No 'god', just a nice pair of tits, your tits." The hand connected to the other arm now slides beneath the camisk too, closes on a butt cheek, and another moan escapes him. "All yours now, she breaths in his ear," really starting to appreciate this rather naughty piece of Nordic clothing Samantha provided. He pulls her close, and starts kissing her head, her face, while his strong fingers softly massage the firm flesh of her breasts and buttocks. She can feel what must be his erection press against her belly, and her own juices starting to wet the insides of her thighs.

She pushes away from him, "I have something for you." He lets go, she turns and walks back to where her overnight bag is resting on the floor. She picks it up and takes out the shrink wrapped towel, before dropping the bag on a nearby chair, then walks back to him. He looks at her questioningly as she hands him the small package, then looks down and studies what she has given him.

She watches his eyes go wide, then they fly up, lock with hers, "Helga, I.., I don't know..."

She tiptoes up and kisses his cheek, "I never dreamed I would be giving my virginity to someone as deserving of it as much as you. To someone who loves me as much as you do. To someone I love as much as I do you." One of her arms has closed around him, the hand of the other has found the front of his pants. She can feel he's big, bigger than what she believes to be average for a man. "Will you be gentle with me, my first time?" she whispers up at him, her hand rubbing his erect cock.