Inside Out

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Simon Says: Finally getting some more writing done. This will be another multi-chapter one.

This is technically a sci-fi but it really is more of a romance, so that's its main category. The sci-fi elements are nothing more than a canvas for the characters to interact, discover and develop. Please forgive any weak sci-fi elements as this is not necessarily my genre. I just needed the situational context.

And as always, I spend a lot of time on slow character build-up so if you prefer very action oriented quick fuck types of stories then this will likely not be your thing. One guy referred to one of my stories as "BORING AS HELL." While not everyone may agree with his assessment, I understand the sentiment represents taste. Therefore I understand that not everyone wants a slow burn, so just be forewarned that this is that sort of writing.

I welcome (actually LOVE) feedback, both through contact tool and overall responses in public arenas. I respond to all emails.

Happy reading. :)

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Assignment in hand, I rounded the corner to enter the docking bay. Gate 14 . .15 . . 16. And here we are.

The small delta class cargo carrier sat snugly alongside the passenger walkway. It didn't look like much because it really wasn't much. These ships traditionally carried small amounts of cargo long distances, mostly to not draw much attention. Thus the cargo really usually proved very valuable.

While I didn't know what the cargo hold actually held (we never did really) I knew that it likely fell into the category of very important.

Didn't matter. I got paid. It's what we did.

Krannok Transports had assigned me to this mission at the last minute due to the usually assigned tech contracting some illness. Likely the guy coughed into his comm hub so that he could get the week off to hang with his girlfriend.

Still didn't matter. I got paid. Plus I didn't have a girlfriend. Or even a friend that was a girl. Or even that many real friends. Yeah, I am not the most social guy.

I walked the short plank and entered the ship through the hatch. I had ridden on this class many times before, even if it wasn't this particular ship, so I knew to turn left and head up to the cockpit to check in with the captain of the ship.

I poked my head in the door where my eyes met a beautiful rounded bottom, tightly enclosed in a flight suit. The standard issue uniform usually made the life of a guy with a keen appreciation of the female rear a lovely experience. In this case, this woman was gifted, and then probably worked out a lot. So I found myself staring. A lot. Until I heard the clearing of a throat.

My eyes shot from the beautiful vision before me to another beautiful image, a woman's face complete with hazel eyes, full lips and topped by blonde straight hair currently pulled back into a loose ponytail. Oh, and a slight look of disgust on her face.

"Sorry," I muttered as my eyes looked down, but this time avoiding the amazing piece of anatomy still pointed my direction. She just turned back to making adjustments

on the console.

"Who are you?" It definitely wasn't a friendly question. I had screwed this one up. Royally. I had zero skills with women. Actually I had zero skills with anyone. It's why I loved working as a tech. People were complicated, unpredictable, dynamic, organic. Relationships depended on too many variables, sometimes many undefined, almost all uncontrollable. Working as a tech? Well, my good friends the communication and overall control systems sometimes failed me but they always did for very specific reasons. And these could be found out.

"Uh . . ." I began as I usually did, "I am . . Bran." She glanced back at me again with an eyebrow raised. "Brandon Jacobus . . ." She silently waited. "Oh . . I am the . . like the replacement tech."

She nodded and turned back to her console. "Don't you have tech stuff to do?" It actually really didn't feel like a question at all.

"Yeah . . just looking for . .um . . the captain."

She didn't turn around. "He is probably in his quarters, halfway back."

"Thanks," I muttered again.

"And try to keep your eyes where they belong."

"I will . . sorry. . again" I muttered as I turned and left quickly.

Only then did I realize I had not found out her name, but then she didn't seem very fond of me, and I usually don't remember the polite questions when trapped in a conversation like that.

But she was likely the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. From behind she was beautiful. Her face? Her skin? Her lips? Her eyes? Good lord, she was pretty much perfect.

I passed the main door and found a door on my left conveniently marked "captain's quarters." I lightly tapped on it. "Come in," a voice called.

I opened the door to another backside, but this time definitely male. And I found that I didn't linger too much on it. While there are likely lots of people out there who could appreciate a good dude butt, I was definitely not one of them. Butts move from being functional to being instruments of sensuality when they are on women.

The man turned as I stood in the doorway. He was broad shouldered, muscled (which I could easily see as he was wearing no shirt), tan, with chiseled features. He sported a military style haircut and even had a cleft chin. Yeah, I had apparently been assigned to the beautiful people mission.

"And you are . . . " He waited with his huge arms crossed across his chest.

"Sorry . . I am Bran Jacobus. . the tech."

He nodded. "Good. Welcome. I am Gareth Klein." He grabbed a t-shirt from a drawer and slipped it over his head as he continued. "I read your file. You know your way around this class of ship, so make yourself at home. Your cabin is number three. I will introduce you to Sage, the pilot."

"We kind of already met." I didn't look up but out of the corner of my eye I saw him nod.

"Good. Why don't you get settled into your station and run your checks before the flight?"

"Sure. On it." And that gave me something to do. Comfortable. Controllable. And no other humans involved. I thrived under such conditions.

I settled into the standard issue tech arrangement in the back of the ship, located just to the side of the cargo hold, and began running the systems checks. The overall process predictably took around twenty minutes. Everything in that realm fell squarely in the category of predictable. And I loved it. I pushed the com link button connecting me to the cockpit. "Is anyone up there?"

A woman's voice immediately came on. "I am here. All ok?"

"Yes . . . all systems have been checked. Ready . . .um . .I am ready here."

"Good thanks."

I wish I could come up with a cool way of setting things right with Sage. My first encounter with Sage left me stressing over what should have happened instead. I am just no good with words, especially on the spot. Under pressure. Well under slight pressure I still choke.

If only . . .

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As I poke my head in the cockpit I see Sage still working through her final checks.

"Hi Sage, listen I am sorry about earlier."

She turns towards me and raises her eyebrows intrigued.

"To be completely honest, I couldn't help it. You are so beautiful and your rear end is not excluded from that general state of being" I lean against the doorway, a small smirk on my face, exuding confidence.

She blushes slightly and gives me a small smile. "Well I am glad you like it, but I would appreciate you instead looking into my eyes." Her flashing eyes are locking on mine., sending me just the right signals.

She is showing interest in me. I can just feel the air between us heat up as we take a small moment to communicate non-verbally, mutual and undeniable attraction broiling underneath the surface.

I smile confidently at her. "No problem at all. Once I actually discovered your eyes I really couldn't look at anything else anyway."

Her smile brightens as her cheeks get even redder. "Thank you," she manages softly.

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"Brian??? Brian!!??" Sage's voice brought me out of my daydream, pathetically a reasonably common occurrence when it came to me. The alternative replays of conversations always went well for me, making me pretty much the most awesome and charming of men, and frankly were much preferred to what actually happened. So sometimes I lived on the inside.

I pushed the respond button. "Sorry . .I am here. . . and it's . . . it's Bran."

"Right. The captain says we are leaving in fifteen minutes. Make sure you are personally ready to go."

"Ok."

This mission is supposed to take about a week - three days to and from the Magellan Station with a one day break in the middle there. I had been to Magellan before and there wasn't much to speak of there, but I considered taking a break from a small cramped three crew cargo ship a very good thing. At least I anticipated I would at that point. I usually did.

I slipped back to the hall and quickly found cabin three. It was pretty easy as there were only three cabins, and they were exceptionally small, lined up in a small row with the fourth tiny room, my tech station, ending the line. I opened the door to find a chair, a desk, a small chest and the berth style cot stowed in the upright position above the chest. I threw my bag in the trunk. There, unpacked.

I headed back to my station and glanced at everything one more time. All looked pretty good.

I let my mind wander back to a wonderfully pleasant time in my life, namely 30 minutes ago when I came face-to-butt with. . well Sage's butt. Since I spend a lot of time in my head, I had developed some great mastery in imaginatively peeling away women's clothing so that I could enjoy each woman as God created her.

And it was just in the midst of enjoying that image when I heard the engine fire up and a quick statement from the Captain on the com, "Heading out." I said goodbye to Sage's beautiful naked imaginary ass and focused on the readouts in front of me.

My job? Monitor. Watch. Read and analyze data. Troubleshoot. The pilot piloted and the captain captained and also occasionally piloted, and kept the big picture in mind, and made a lot more money.

Don't get me wrong: I have no interest in Gareth's job. Studly guys like him can wear cool outfits and captain ships and make crap-loads of money all they want. My little comfortable existence was . . comfortable. I needed money to sustain myself and allow me to buy cool gizmos and widgets. A simple life. No complications.

Well at least I thought so.

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Yeah, so Gareth and Sage were an item. Well at least a sexual item. This became quite clear when I heard them going at it the first night. I can't blame them. Two beautiful people should easily magnetize to one another. The universe dictated such natural order. If a nerd girl had been in my vicinity then the forces of the universe probably would shove us naked into a single bed. Well maybe. Sadly no nude nerd girls have ended up in my bed. In my head? Well that's another thing entirely. Well except the imaginary nude girls were smoking hot with a few nerd girl features.

So I listened to Gareth and Sage have sex. Apparently twice.

So what's a space wallflower to do while the beautiful people enjoy coitus down the hall a dozen feet away? Why picture it in his head, of course! Well except I don't want to picture Gareth naked, so it makes the most logical sense to put me in there. Just sensible. If anything, I exude sensibility.

So I laid in bed and closed my eyes . . .

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. . . And slip onto the bed with Sage. My fingers trail up her lower legs heading for her thighs. She looks at me lustily, her eyes hungry for me. I know what she wants. And I know just how to give it to her.

I slow my fingers on her thighs, enjoying the soft skin around her well formed legs. I lean down and plant three kisses on her thigh; mid-thigh, upper and then inner. She squirms, whimpering . . . Needing more.

I slide my body up, my face coming close to her lap. She reaches out and grabs my hair, urging me forward. I kiss her pussy lips, a little moisture coming out. I know what she loves for me to do, so I flatly press my tongue against her lips. She lets out a moan. I then slide my tongue inside of her. Her fingers pull at my hair in desperation. She wants me inside of her.

But not yet. My tongue presses against her lips and she begins to writhe beneath my tongue. "Holy shit Bran! Just like that! I may cum again!"

I grip her legs, her hips practically bucking against me. I smile to myself, confident that this woman could never get enough of me. I hear her strained voice, "Bran, please fuck me! I need your hard thick cock in me!"

So I oblige.

I move up, my hard cock slides along her leg. I move closer to her, up between her thighs. Her legs immediately wrap around behind me, her feet locking together. She urgently pulls me forward, my cock pressing against her pussy lips. I push forward and then start to pump hard. She is crying out, moaning, her fingers digging into my back, leaving long red scratches on my skin. I didn't mind at all. She will cum, probably three or four times. Maybe even five. She loves my cock in her.

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I grabbed a tissue from the desk and cleaned up the mess around my cock and on my stomach caused by my little fantasy while Sage's and Gareth's moans transition into muffled talking.

My fantasies seldom have actual real life audio available, but in this case Gareth and Sage really helped me quite a bit. It turns out that Sage is a bit of a loud moaner, which I must say that I like. Hell, I didn't even need to bring up VR porn from my digital stash. All in all a very effective release for me.

Of course, an actual woman would be preferred but that's not exactly going to happen. After graduating the civilian space academy I had pretty much directly found work. I was pretty good at what I did. The problem-solver, quick on my feet with little actual emotional or social attachments (read that as I wasn't married and had no social life at all) meant that I was very high in demand.

Being in demand in some aspect of my life was a very good thing. So I focused on that aspect and essentially did not worry about the other areas of my life: notably the social dimension. And so my system worked for me.

I slipped back into bed and drifted off, unusually thinking of actually nothing.

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"Hey Brian, could you grab the lunch rations for today and bring them to the cockpit?" Her voice definitely sounded different when she wasn't moaning. I liked it both ways actually.

"Ok . . . But it's Bran . . ."

"Good. Thanks." Yeah, I was the wallflower.

If I stepped out of the back of the ship it would take them two days to notice. Well except I suppose they needed a waiter to bring their food up front . . .

I reached into the food storage and grabbed three pouches with three water bottles and headed for the cockpit.

I poked my head in and handed out the rations. Gareth nodded at me. Sage barely turned, placing the ration to her side, but said, "thanks" as she made some adjustments on the console, seemingly rather focused on something.

"There is a presence . . . 9 o'clock . . .moving directly towards our path." Gareth leaned over and looked closely at her screens. His brow furrowed as he studied the blip and its movements.

In the openness of space you simply do not run into other ships. Only when it was planned or if you were near a station or a direct shipping lane. Space was just too damned big to stumble into someone else. So chances were very likely that this was anything but a good thing.

"This doesn't feel right . . . " Just what I was thinking, Gareth.

Sage turned to him, a little concern written on her face. "What should I do?"

"Change vectors. Turn 20 degrees and crank the engine. Head towards that set of space debris. Let's get out of here quickly."

"Yes sir." And lunch was completely forgotten.

I heard Gareth over my shoulder as I turned and raced back to my station. "Head back to tech and prep the communication board in case we need to shoot out a message!"

"On it!" I called back up the hallway as I entered my station, way ahead of him. It's what I got paid the mediocre bucks for after all.

Of course, in the back I couldn't see what was going on, but in situations like this the SOP was to turn on the com link and keep it active. And so, I did.

I could hear Sage's voice first.

"It looks like they are changing direction with us. They are moving on a new path to intercept us."

"Shit. Not good. They are too fast." I could almost picture Gareth working through options as he stared at the screens. If they were faster, bigger and actually had any weaponry, the options were pretty much nil.

These cargo ships were definitely not equipped with anything to fight back and very little to actually hold anything off either. The shields were rather bare minimum, really to avoid the very space debris we were racing for and there was not a single cannon on it to speak of. The beauty of the ship was how ridiculously small it was and how it could take decently long trips. Neither of those attributes did much for us at the moment. The assumption remained: no one runs into anyone else in space, so stay small and move fast. That worked like a charm until situations just like this one.

"Move this ship as fast as you can, Sage. Let's at least make it somewhat difficult for them." He sounded pissed off. And manly. Too bad I wouldn't have more time to work on talking like that. Any hopes of being awesome and manly someday were suddenly fading with each passing second the foreign ship approached us.

"Tech, shoot out the standard help call to HQ to let them know." A small brief moment of silence followed as I brought up the HQ link.

"They will be in firing range in 5 seconds . . . " Sage actually sounded scared.

"Bank right! Tech, fire that message!"

I sent the standard pre-created text for emergency assistance required immediately with location and time stamp attached. And then everything went black one second later.

I heard Gareth curse and yell something about an ion cannon, which would make perfect sense as it wiped out all power on our ship. Then the whole ship jarred forward. Rear blast. Likely they targeted the engine. It was down anyway, but that was to make sure it stayed down. We weren't going anywhere any time soon.

This had all the markings of a pirate hit. The fact that they caught us out here meant that they probably bought some information from one of the HQ staff, getting the cargo contents (which I still didn't know what they actually were), the schedule and the flight path.

And what really really sucked was that pirates seldom left survivors. Pirates liked to stay anonymous so that they could still gather intel on stations and space ports without people actually looking for them.

I began to quickly feel around the station to find the controls for a power reboot. At least maybe we could get something going before the pirates boarded.

Moments later I heard the metal-clamping-on-metal sound of a ship-to-ship docking procedure. Too late apparently. This is it folks. I stood up and felt around until I came to a wall. I just stood and waited. Nothing else to do but to wait.

As part of my relatively non-existence of manliness I also did not usually find myself running into danger. For one, I offered nothing of real substantive value to really stop danger. And two, in this actual case it seemed hopeless. Our only hope was to be very cooperative and look pitiful enough for them to leave us alive. I possessed those two skills in my arsenal.