Freya and the Space Hippies

Author's note: a small space adventure for the Pink Orchid 2024 for Women-Centric Erotica Challenge (Omenainen requested space hippies, so there are space hippies :-)

Many ideas borrowed from Schismatrix by Bruce Sterling and Babel-17 by Chip Delaney.

~~~~

Freya jolted awake to her ship's klaxon blaring and alarm strobes flashing. She crawled from her bunk towards the cockpit controls, stomach flipping as the artificial gravity surged and waned—one moment crushing her to the deck, the next floating her weightless and scrambling for handholds.

A collision! And from something big, judging from the sea of red indicators on the cockpit displays. A one-in-several-million chance when orbiting a protostar where nothing but gas and dust swirled. The soon-to-ignite stellar core should have drawn anything dense enough to damage her ship into itself eons ago.

A breeze caressed Freya's face, followed by a whistling hiss from somewhere behind the secondary instruments overhead. It became a roar and she leaped into the coffin-like escape pod, sealing it just as the ship's hull blew open, sending fragments and loose objects spinning into the void.

With a spine-crunching lurch, the pod rocketed away from the remains of her ship on a trajectory to intercept the nearest space lane. The navigation display showed Freya that what would be seconds jumping through hyperstasis would take about a thousand years coasting through Newtonian space.

Freya drew on all her training and conditioning to fight back despair. Her first ship, her first solo science mission—all lost. The colony council would strip her of rank, if her pod was ever found.

~~~~

Tiny tinkling bells and the sweet, spicy stink of patchouli. Someone humming. No—chanting. Freya woke, her limbs leaden, and tried to sit up and focus in the too-bright room and the blue shape standing beside her.

"Peace," the blue shape said, guiding her to lie back on the medbed. "You're with friends." The low chanting resumed.

Freya's eyes focused: it was a woman, hands pressed together in meditation, her entire nude body opalescent swirls of aquamarine, crimson and amber. Freya had never seen that style of cosmetisurgery. If she could have pushed aside her revulsion of all purely decorative body mods, she might have thought it beautiful. The woman's full swaying breasts and shapely figure certainly were.

"How—how long?" Freya croaked.

"Eight standard months," the woman said. "Not that long for hibernation, but you'll feel the aftereffects for many hours. So mellow out and just... be. Dig it?"

Freya tried deciphering those last words, wondering if her translation implant had been damaged. "I must contact my colony," she said. Her head spun as she sat up and the woman put warm arms around her, steadying her. Freya realized with horror she was naked too.

"Don't get uptight," the woman said. "We sent a signal to fill them in. Now, chill. You've just had a real bad trip, babe."

"Babe? I'm no crecheling," Freya snapped. "You will address me as Captain-Doctor Freya Chiang. And where is my uniform?"

"Don't freak, Captain-Doctor. No offense intended. You'll find we're all laid-back here. Titles and honorifics just don't cut it. No one calls me Major-Doctor Thabisa Torres, and I'd be super bummed if they did."

Freya studied the woman. Under her remarkable iridescent skin, she bore a slight resemblance to the long-vanished xenobiologist.

"If you are her, you were rumored to have joined the Invaders. Or been killed by them. Instead, you went rogue? Turned sundog?"

The woman turned and strode to a narrow closet, returning with a pair of tie-dyed harem pants. Freya noted that, like her, the woman had the same anonymous beauty and perfect figure of all genetically reshaped.

She handed the pants to Freya. "Your uniform was wrecked. Most in our collective go nude, so there aren't a lot of threads around to choose from. You can wear these. We have a loom and spinning wheel if you want to make your own clothes."

Freya didn't know what a loom or spinning wheel were, but gratefully pulled on the pants. She stood, leaning against the medbed for support and covering her breasts with her arms.

"I might find you a top somewhere," Thabisa said, "but you'll fit in better if you meet the commune members half-way. Besides, you have such lovely natural breasts."

Her smile made Freya tingle. Months in hibe then the decantation process had depleted her serotonin regulator.

"Now, I'd better lay out the rest," Thabisa said. "You're on Beneficio, a repurposed freighter and home of an autonomous anarcho-syndicalist commune. To you we may seem like sundogs, but the collective aren't criminals. We explore in peace and harmony with the cosmos. I left my colony when I first encountered this group."

"You were a respected scientist," Freya said. "I studied all your papers."

"I'm still a scientist. One of many here—biologists, botanists, astrophysicists, psychochemists. Lucky for you, or we wouldn't have gone to that protostar looking for space whales and found your pod. Life is long, Freya, especially for us Shapers with our sculpted genes. It's too long to spend squashed under one stifling ideology. Here we go with the flow, following the teachings of an ancient faction on Earth-that-was."

"Are we still at the star? It's only two jumps to my colony..."

"We only found you when we were outbound. We just completed jumping to a new protostar system and are gonna chill here for a few months. Don't you love how the eddies of gas and dust waltz like lovesick suitors before merging with the core?"

"Then when will you get me back to my colony? If we're near a space lane..."

"Chill out," Thabisa said. "We're far from everywhere and staying a while. Come meet the rest. They're a groovy bunch. And don't get strung out by the archaic lingo... you'll grok it soon enough."

~~~~

The warmth and humidity of the dim corridors were a contrast to the stark clean white of the sickbay. Freya noted seemingly purposeless woven textiles hung on every wall that were not already covered by abstract, fantastical murals.

They entered the giant open space of a common room, the air warm and incense-scented. Twenty beings lounged around the perimeter in bean bag chairs—most in pairs or triples and most naked, though with their extreme cosmetisurgery it was difficult to be certain.

One female resembling a gecko with green pebbly skin, a wide lipless mouth, and yellow speckled eyes lay belly-first across a beanbag, holding her thick tail to one side while an android copulated with her from behind. Its gleaming silver penis plunged repeatedly into the chittering woman while one of its four hands pressed against her mons, audibly thrumming with vibration.

Seeing Freya's astonishment, Thabisa said, "We're a free love society. No gene-line planning, no jealousy, no ownership. I'll introduce you to Jade there when she's done playing with Bazz. We're all about the organic here, but sometimes a girl just needs a quick solid railing. Bazz will totally blow your mind. He never tires and makes you come hard and fast."

A huge leonine male loped over to them, muscles humped under fuzzy tawny skin. Freya blushed seeing the dong swinging between his legs that looked almost as big as her forearm. His lion-like face had eyes like gold medallions. His lips parted in a broad smile, revealing scimitar canines.

"Hey, salvage," he said in a voice between a growl and a purr. "Jazzed to see you vertical. I knew Issa would make you right."

"This is Veldt, our outta sight navigator," Thabisa said, reaching up to scratch behind his ear. The big cat closed his eyes and rubbed against her hand. "Veldt, this is Captain-Doctor Freya Chiang."

Freya bowed, but Veldt chucked her shoulder with a meaty paw then pulled her into an iron hug, his soft furry hide pleasant against her bare breasts.

"What's happenin'?" he rumbled. "Welcome to the collective. Come meet my old lady."

In the far corner on a giant bean bag plucking the strings of an electro-sitar sat a petite feline woman—ears relocated to the top sides of her head, mouth reshaped into a pronounced white muzzle, her body covered in short cinnamon fur. Freya was relieved to see she only had two perky, very human breasts.

She jumped up and pulled Freya into a hug, rubbing her furry body against her. "I'm Ember," she said, nuzzling Freya's ear. "Stoked to have you aboard. For a while there, we worried you weren't gonna wake."

Separating from Ember, Freya looked at Thabisa.

She nodded. "Your pod was damaged. Decanting you got hairy a few times. Ember is our mechanical whiz. She threw together a couple fixes."

Freya's heart sped as her knees weakened, her narrow escape from her ship and sheer luck at being found finally hitting her. She remembered staring through the viewport of her pod into the terrifying void before the hibernation sequence sent her into dreamless dormancy.

"Uh oh," Veldt said. "Better lay down and chill."

They laid her back on the bean bag and Freya silently invoked the neo-pranayama ritual and calming affirmations imprinted into her as a child in the creche. Ember laid beside her then pulled her into a warm embrace while from behind Veldt stroked her head and kneaded her knotted shoulder muscles.

"Shh," Veldt rumbled, "You're among friends. You had a close call. Sure, you could have floated out there for centuries. Your beacon was so weak we only detected it when we were close. But you're safe now. We'll look after you."

Ember said, "Here, we're one. Look after each other. Love each other. Any need you have, we give. Any need you see, you give."

Freya felt herself relaxing, reassured, giving into the comfort and warmth of the furry pair. Above her stood Thabisa—Issa, they called her—sweeping a medical scanner over her and nodding at whatever it showed.

"Adrenaline and cortisol elevated, thyroid totally groovy... I mean, within expected range." She snapped the scanner shut. "Exercise, rest and a good release of oxytocin will do wonders. Like a good fucking. Would you like to fuck Veldt? Or Ember? I think they're really into you. Normally, I'd recommend Bazz for a fast hormonal release, but you need an organic touch to center yourself. How do you feel about me? I'd make you come like the universe was ending, if you wanted. No need to reciprocate with any of us. Here, love is freely given."

Freya's mind whirled with thoughts and emotions. She wondered how Veldt's semi-hard penis nestling against her side would fit in her even half-way without pain. Ember was a cuddly kitten she felt a desire to explore. And Issa? Except for the radical makeover of her wonderful skin, she was kin—a fellow Shaper and a brilliant xenobiologist. To lie with her would be an unparalleled honor and, she had no doubt, an exquisite experience.

Decades of relentless conditioning and exacting training took over. Freya invoked her crisis recovery protocols, to be used only during torture, coercion, and complete malfunction of her serotonin regulator.

She pushed her furry companions aside and sat up.

"Perverts," she spat. "Sundogs. Degenerate self-indulgent misfits! Return me to my clan. Return me to my colony on Cobalt Kluster!"

Struggling to her feet, Freya stormed from the room.

~~~~

Freya huddled on the deck in a dark corner. She had to escape. She had withstood similar temptations in the endless Shaper simulation trials: rival factions offering riches in exchange for her faction's bioengineering secrets, Invaders—those early explorers thought lost who returned altered and genocidal—torturing her for intel, a lovely but unplanned young women cowering in rubble after an Invader attack pleading for love and comfort.

With each trial, Freya had relied on her training and conditioning, invoking her protocols, even injecting an allowed boost of vasopressin when her self-control faltered. She emerged in the 90th percentile of her creche cohorts.

These... people. These twisted, undisciplined deviants might as well be an alien species! Free love? A disgusting indulgent mixing of unplanned gene lines along with whatever diseases the body fluids transmitted. Communal living? Like everyone, Freya had learned the concept as a child and accepted the sound ideology of complete loyalty to one's clan, but no possessions or expectation of reward? A grotesque and untenable fantasy.

~~~~

Thabisa waited out of sight, watching to make sure Freya wasn't in physical distress or nearing a psychotic break. Though she had willingly joined the Beneficio, she recalled how difficult her transition had been: learning the ancient teachings, unlearning her conditioning and training, and unblocking her third eye to go with the flow and truly see people, regardless of physical form or past allegiances.

When she saw Freya lift her head and take a shuddering breath, she approached, arms wide.

"The collective all sleep in the common room," she said. "I've prepared a space of your own while you're with us. Let me take you there."

~~~~

The bunk and hydrosonic shower in a narrow room was what Freya needed, and it was more space than she had on her research vessel—there she had only a cramped bunk in the rear and a cleansing wand beside a three-choice food synthesizer.

Food. The sudden rumble of her belly telegraphed her hunger.

The door chimed. Sliding it open, Freya saw Issa, smiling warmly.

"Feeling better?" she asked. "You slept 12 standard hours. That's really good. You must be hungry. Please come eat."

The galley was half-full of the colorful crew. They all cheered when Freya entered, some rising to hug her. Instead of food synthesizers, a dreadlocked crew member stood ready to prepare their order. He had no obvious cosmetisurgery, except full-motion tattoos over his upper body depicting waterfalls and forest scenes from Earth-that-was.

Issa laughed at Freya's look of distaste seeing raw food and bubbling pots. "No synthetic food on this ship," she said. "Everything is home grown and hand prepared. I'll take you below to hydroponics later if you want. Since you're a Shaper too, maybe you could help tweak plant genetics or the nutrient baths. Have you ever cooked food? Do you know what that means?"

Freya said she was vaguely aware of the primitive term.

"It's fun! My favorite of all the ancient arts. It seems so simple—heat, vegetables, sauces, spice—but it's so much more complex. It's like the probability games they used to teach us concepts in the creche, trying to predict the outcome. And when you succeed and someone leans back all satisfied and compliments you? It's outta sight better than sex. Almost."

~~~~

Messages to her colony were met with indifference or silence. Freya realized that with the loss of her ship and 'capture' by sundogs, she had become disgraced. No rescue was coming. She was trapped on Beneficio until it moved on and crossed a space lane or resupplied at a habited world.

In the following months, Freya helped with ship maintenance, gathered and analyzed scientific readings on the protostar, and became familiar with the commune's archaic speech. Armed with the latest developments in mechanics and bioengineering, she improved efficiencies in the ship's systems and the extensive hydroponic farms.

Every evening, the crew gathered in the common room to play instruments, dance, get high and get it on. They copulated openly, often in groups and often switching from one bean bag to another to copulate anew. Many invited Freya to join them but didn't mind if she only watched. Some even asked her to. She watched couplings—some vanilla and gentle, others inventive and wild—alternating waves of revulsion, temptation and lust washing through her.

Freya never saw jealousy or possessiveness. Couples like Vedlt and Ember copulated with others as often as they did together, but at each night cycle they slept entwined in a loving embrace.

With the variety of body mods, tastes and kinks displayed, Freya thought she could spend years exploring before exhausting the sexual possibilities. Yet her instincts and teachings condemned the sundogs and their free love ideology, their purposeless body modifications, lack of possessions, and naïve social structure. Everyone did everything! They used psychoactive chemicals for purely recreational purposes! They completely lacked a hierarchy, chain of command, and discipline.

"No! It's not 'whatever'! You must do it this way or I'll report you to command!"

"Get off it, babe," the insectoid crew member said. He sealed the conduit they had been repairing and fixed her with his compound eyes. "You're bringing me down being all harsh and heavy. Ain't no command here. No fuzz to call. Mellow out, Freya."

Despite Freya's protests and failed attempts to show them the right way to do things, the ship hummed, functioning in a harmony Freya had never experienced on Shaper ships. When a problem arose, everyone helped according to their knowledge and skills. When anyone was in need, even for only a hug, someone provided it without question—and usually much more.

Issa guided Freya through the group's culture and language, revealing to her the sacred writings of Thoreau, Kerouac, Kesey and Ginsberg. Refused any rejuvenation of her serotonin regulator with the retort "let it all hang out, baby," Freya discovered the stirrings of powerful unfamiliar emotions: empathy and gratitude, love and lust.

One night, Freya answered her door to find the android Bazz.

"Hey, baby," it said in its smooth synthetic voice. "Want to get it on?"

"I certainly do not! Go away."

It leaned incongruously against the doorframe in what she assumed was an attempt to look sexy. "Aww, babe, don't get bent outta shape. Everyone's super bummed worrying about you. You haven't got it on with anyone since you got here. That's not healthy. You don't seem to like body mods or want to join the evening love-in, so they sent me to see if you wanted to ball here in your pad. Away from the crowd, y'know?"

"That's... that's very considerate. I know better than to fuck robots, though."

"Oh, I may be a mech, but there's nothing mechanical about my movements. Plus, I'm programmed with the Kama Sutra, The Joy of Sex, and Dr. Susan Calvin's Cyber Satisfactions, volumes one through eight."

Freya glanced at the android's steel cock and four arms. It would be a discrete way to relieve the gnawing horniness that had been building in her, she thought. Then she shook herself and ordered Bazz to leave.

~~~~

The Invaders struck without warning. In the soupy haze surrounding the protostar, ship sensors saw nothing until a section of hull vaporized in a heat beam.

Freya staggered from her quarters as crew members scrambled past. A blow shook the superstructure and at once Freya fell into the calm, confident hyperawareness of her conditioning.

On the bridge, Veldt wrestled the controls performing evasive maneuvers. At his side, Ember monitored system status, directing crew to damage locations and rerouting systems where needed.

The tactical displays showed three Invader ships, all small Sargan class. Their vectors showed an attack pattern Freya recognized instantly.

"Come right to 135 mark 20," she said calmly. "Accelerate to 300 clicks."

Veldt glanced at her. "Things are a kinda hairy right now, Freya. Manage fire control if you can."

Strapping in at the Tactical station, Freya reassessed the situation while carving a fissure along the side of one Invader ship with a particle beam. The Beneficio wasn't a warship, but it had light defenses.