Inside Out

I heard the door being opened from the outside, followed by four small beams of light streaming into the hallway. One of the infiltrators stepped in completely, looked both directions in the hallway with his head lamp (fortunately not shining on me as I stood just inside the tech station doorway) and began firing blasts up into the cockpit, seemed like five shots. I heard Sage's scream and a thud. I don't think he really cared if he hit anyone or not. It was just a volley of warnings to make sure no one got brave. The intruders then turned and came my direction. I stood against the wall just inside my station, waiting for the inevitable searing pain caused by a shot to my head, or abdomen. Or something.

I started imagining me dying slowly against the wall, sliding down. Maybe Gareth and Sage would actually remember my name as they looked down at me. But the pain never came. In fact, as I moved from inside of my head to the inside of my tech station, I saw four figures walk right past me and my station doorway. They didn't see me at all.

Score one more for Mr. Invisible.

I took one silent step further into the station. The men had stopped just a foot or two past the door. It apparently pays to be an unremarkable wallflower most of the time. They began fidgeting with the cargo panel, eventually opening the door. Two slipped inside.

I could hear some banging around as they apparently searched for whatever it was that they wanted, followed by a quick turn and exit of the four lights. As they left the ship, they left the door open.

Yeah, they intended to leave the ship open, getting rid of anyone still alive.

Fortunately, I was about fifteen feet from the airlock, so I scooted towards the dimming light. I peeked around the corner and waited until I saw the last intruder head through their hatch and then quickly pushed the door closed and bolted it as I heard the metal clamps release and the ships separate.

Darkness again.

"Gareth?? Sage??" No answers.

I felt my way down the hallway; passing the cabin doors and finally finding my way to the cockpit.

You don't think how dark space is until you are in it without lights. Fortunately this ship was very very small and the cockpit even smaller. "Gareth? Sage? Are you ok?" Still no response.

I carefully stepped into the room and immediately my foot hit something. Time to solve some problems. Or try to anyway. I knelt down and found a leg. I moved my fingers up the leg. Definitely Gareth. I made my way to his shoulders, feeling his neck I could feel no pulse. I felt around him briefly and came across a burn/ indention in his forehead. At least he died instantly. No way to survive a blast to the head like that.

"Sage??" I will come back to him. More important matters were pressing. I felt to Sage's chair, and she was still sitting in it. I moved to about her shoulders and found her neck. I could feel a pulse. Good. I leaned in close to where I assumed her face was and I could hear and feel small breathing. Very good news.

I needed to check for the type of wound. I ran my hands down her arms and legs, somehow beginning there as I felt less perverted doing that. I found a burned hole in her right leg. That shouldn't have knocked her out, although it likely hurt like hell. I moved to her abdomen, moving around her sides and pulling her forward to check her back. Nothing. I avoided her breasts . . . for now . . . (I felt less like an opportunistic pervert) and instead moved to her upper chest. Bingo!

I felt a burn hole in her flight suit, at about the upper right chest, towards her right shoulder. As I moved my fingers gently across the wound, it was as I hoped it would be. She moaned a bit in her unconsciousness, likely feeling the pain, but the blast had burned a bad hole there, and then effectively cauterized the wound, just like the one on her leg. Both would need to be cleaned and dressed but at least she wouldn't bleed to death. Gareth was gone. Sage was stable.

Based on the wound locations I guessed she got shot as she was moving out of her seat to stand up. I would need to look at the wounds in light to really understand what the next steps might be.

I reached behind her and held onto her tight, trying not to press on her wounds, and shifted her fully back into her seat. Holding her close felt very nice, regardless of the awful circumstances. I don't get to hold women often. Well my mom. And my sister at her wedding. That pretty much was it. It was nice.

Now ion blasts are a huge nuisance but they are not permanent in their impacts so now I had to slowly bring up the systems that we needed to survive. I began ticking off the steps to the solution in my head; bring up emergency lights and basic functions, then quickly followed by the full life support systems (water and air recyclers). . then communications . . and finally a low level shield to repel space junk. The ship had trapped air for about an hour so I couldn't waste a lot of time. Then I could treat Sage's wounds and get her comfortable for recovery, finally moving to sending out distress calls if possible. I finally would figure out what to do with Gareth.

All steps in a solution. When no humans were involved, no unknown variables, I could work a problem. That's what I do.

So I felt my way back to my station and sat down. I needed to reboot the systems, which would take awhile. I began the process, hoping to get emergency lighting up in the next fifteen minutes.

Once that was up, I then could move the full life support back online. Probably another twenty minutes. I got to work.

++++++++++++

Lights on. Check. Air pumping. Check. Water filtration and recycling engaged. Check. Basic systems restored. Of course we aren't going to be moving anywhere anytime soon but let's celebrate the little victories!

Nice work, Bran! Thanks Bran for the encouragement! You are welcome Bran! Nerds sometimes do internal pep-rallies.

There usually weren't alot of external options.

I moved back down the hall, getting to visually witness what I felt an hour or so before. Gareth's body lay face-down crumpled on the floor between the two pilot's chairs. I barely knew him but did feel some remorse. I glanced at Sage, her eyes closed. She looked very peaceful. Her chest wound looked to be a good three inches in diameter. It took out some flesh but it didn't reach her lungs, seemingly. Nor her perfect breasts. Thank god. The wound remained high on the front of her shoulder, charred and burnt cloth jaggedly framing the red and black wound.

The wound on her leg seemed deeper. Maybe her leg got his directly whereas her chest was more at an angle when the blasts came. Regardless, she was seemingly very lucky for that match-up of body part to wound as a deep hit to the chest could have been fatal.

I wouldn't be able to easily get her out of her chair with Gareth still where he was so I decided to move him back to the cargo hold first. There actually was probably a sealable container back there that would help to keep his body preserved. These ships usually were equipped with those. I didn't care about investigations or such, but instead was focused on him not decomposing so much to make our lives miserable in the days to come.

The reality? We could probably survive about two and a half weeks considering the fact that we moved from three consumers to two, and we always had a week's worth of rations on hand just in case. If we needed to move to two (or even one) meals a day then we of course could go much longer.

Regardless, one of us would be stinking after a week. A sealable storage unit would do nicely. I couldn't bring myself to push him out into space as he deserved more than that. Even if this ended up being a tomb for all three of us.

I returned to the cockpit to find Sage's condition to be completely unchanged.

I am no Gareth with bulging biceps, but I am also not a 90-pound weakling, so I slipped my arms behind her back and under her knees and carefully maneuvered her through the tight space into the hallway.

Taking care of Sage did not involve wires and software, so I was a little out of my element, but I knew enough to know that the big danger for her was infection, mostly from us and what we were breathing out, so I needed to use the recently booted up water recycler and clean the wound. Otherwise, it was about making her comfortable, keeping her fed and hydrated and hope for a rescue ship that could take her to someplace where she could actually be treated medically.

I enjoyed the moment of having her in my arms, her head resting against my shoulder, her body snug up against mine. But then I moved back to focusing on taking care of her. No time for a daydream, Bran. Maybe later. Who am I kidding? Definitely later.

I opened her cabin door and used my elbow to release the latch on the bed, dropping it down into position. I gently laid her on it.

Now, the perv in me is going to love what Mr. Practical thinks needs to happen next. I needed to get her out of the flight suit. Honestly, it wasn't just because she was smoking hot. I may have pretty much no experience with women, but that doesn't automatically make me a creep looking for a cheap thrill. So I unzipped her suit and I began to cut around the wounds.

While I tried desperately to remain clinical about the whole thing, I couldn't help but enjoy the revealing of her skin, perfect as it was. She had opted to wear a very sensible set of white sports oriented underwear. It was flattering on her. Anything would be flattering on her.

I effectively removed the suit from both her shoulders. She moaned in her unconscious state. Yes, I am sure it hurt terribly. I finished cutting around her leg completely removed that pant-leg of the suit.

A white sensible bra that allowed her lovely cleavage to be supported came into view. And followed by a white thong, allowing me to enjoy a slight lingering moment (you can't blame me for this, seriously) of looking at her uncovered butt. My imagination did not do it justice. Good lord she was perfect.

I opted to remove her flight suit completely. Honestly she needed to be comfortable and wearing that thing wasn't terribly comfortable so I finished cutting off the rest. And while the perverted side of my mind argued that she would be much more comfortable completely nude, I knew that was not a good thing. Well it was a good thing but a bad idea. Ok, it was both a good thing and a good idea but it wasn't exactly proper.

I did have to move one of her bra straps out of the way, snaking her arm out and putting the strap under her armpit, so I had that tiny thrill to work with.

Once she was in her beautiful state of mostly undressed, I wetted a cloth down with alcohol and began the very unpleasant experience of cleaning the wounds. She moaned as I did my work. Inevitable. I used some water to clean up around it and then found bandages in the on-board med kit to cover them both all up.

I then sat back and admired my handiwork, and of course the unbelievably perfect woman attached to it. I looked around for a blanket and sadly covered her up.

++++++++++++

"Shit."

As if things couldn't get much worse, the damned blast to the engines must have also knocked off the antenna array used for long range communication. Without a replacement and some mechanical experience (neither of which I had) we weren't going to be sending any long-range pleas for help. In other words, unless someone was practically on top of us they would not hear us. Well I could only hope that the initial SOS fired off before the ion hit would find a good Samaritan.

I grabbed the discarded food pouches from the cockpit, careful to store Gareth's unopened pouch back in with the rations. I didn't think Sage would actually swallow anything at the moment so I stored hers with Gareth. I did open a bottle of water and poured a little on her lips. I didn't want to pour down her throat in case it caused her problems.

I watched the water wetten her soft lips. If we weren't in such dire straights that would really turn me on. Ok, that admittedly turned me on anyway. I watched a tiny droplet pool at the corner of her mouth and then start to run down her cheeks. I quickly collected the droplet from her cheek, my thumb lingering for a moment on her soft cheek.

That moment of actual touch proved pretty electrifying. I usually imagined such things in great detail but having that small moment . .Well my imagination could never do that justice. Feeling her skin felt simply amazing.

Come on Bran. The beautiful girl is completely at your mercy. Care for her. Protect her. Don't bother with gentle caresses. Leave that for your overactive imagination, no matter how substandard that might be.

I checked to be sure Sage looked reasonably comfortable and was tucked in and then headed out. A shower, probably a cold one, was in order.

The very tiny restroom (a tiny toilet and a spigot high up) sat next to my workstation. I undressed in my room and grabbed the small towel before heading into the shower. The fact that there was not much room did not keep me from enjoying a little time to myself. I decided to start with a warm shower. I found myself cleaning my cock a bit more extensively than necessary, watching it rise and almost naturally press against the wall.

I couldn't leave it like this. And it's not like there is much else to do. Not sensible to do so. So I wrapped my fingers around my shaft . . .

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

I feel fingers on my back. I look back and see Sage smiling.

"You saved my life, Bran."

"I did what I had to do, Sage."

"No, no one has ever done so much for me! You are amazing, Bran!"

I turn towards her and pulled her to me, feeling her nearly naked body press against mine. She wraps her fingers around my shaft and begins to pump her hand, kissing my neck. My fingers push her thong down, feeling her perfect ass against the palm of my hand. She begins to gyrate against me, pressing her now exposed pussy against my leg.

"Bran . . . I want you so bad . . . Please fuck me . . .Please . . ."

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

"Please! Is anyone here??!!" The nearly screaming voice startled me, my fingers still wrapped around my rather hard shaft. Damn. I hurriedly turned off the water and quickly snatched the small towel off of its hook, racing out the door.

Sage stood in the hallway, still only in her rather brief underwear, her legs looked wobbly, her hand bracing herself against the wall of the hallway, and she looked a little delirious. Her eyes met mine, and then dropped briefly to the towel that really did not do a good job of covering anything. And then there was the hard appendage pushing it out towards her that probably made matters worse. I could only hope that her delirium would make her forget any of this.

"Sage, you need to get back into bed. Come on, let's get you laying down." I immediately stepped towards her and gently took her arm, steering her back towards her cabin. She murmured a bit, but allowed herself to be moved.

The pain had knocked her out. The pain meds were keeping her groggy. She just needed time for recovery.

I gently laid her back onto the cot, her head finally connecting with the pillow. I then sadly covered her up again. Having gotten her back safe and sound I turned to head back to my cabin for some clothes.

"Bran?" I smiled to myself, my back still turned towards her. At least she got my name right. And hearing her say my name was pretty nice. Almost musical.

"Yes Sage?" I turned back to see her still lying down. Good.

"Where's Gareth?" Her eyes were closed and she looked weary. She began to curl up under the blanket. I moved towards her briefly.

"Everything will be fine, Sage." I brushed the hair from her forehead, enjoying another brief but electrifying moment of touch, and then headed back out the door.

++++++++++++

I let Sage sleep for the remainder of the day . . . or night. Whatever you want to call the passage of time in space. I had taken to sending out short range signals with the com system every 20 minutes. Just short bursts in case anyone happened to be nearly on top of us and was feeling extra philanthropic. Yeah, I was bored of reading up on how to pilot the ship (and whatever other manuals I could find).

When I couldn't take any more manual reading, I peeked into Sage's room. She was completely out, her head barely peeking out above the blanket. I sat on the small stool for a bit, watching her sleep, the rhythmic movement of the blanket as she breathed in and out in her deep sleep. Pretty relaxing to watch.

I tore my eyes away from her for a moment and glanced around her room.

It only had been the third time I had been in her cabin and the other two times I was very distracted while undressing her or returning her scantily clad form back to bed. Now I took some time to take it all in.

I am analytical. I like looking at things and figuring out answers to problems. It seems my mind skipped into analysis mode as I tried to figure out the problem of who Sage actually was.

She had placed a few digi-framed photos on her desk, cycling through pictures of friends and family on a constant loop: an older woman with the same hair and eyes as her (likely her mom), then a photo of her with two younger guys who had to be her brothers, her with three other women at the beach (yes she was in an awesome bikini and yes she was easily the hottest of the four women, but then maybe I was biased), and a picture of her with Gareth and another guy (who must have been the tech I replaced). It looked like a friendly shot. Interestingly she smiled in all of the photos, but the smile looked a lot more like a fake "say cheese" smile rather than the kind where you can't help yourself.

I had used that smile before, usually when I was being forced to act like I was having an awesome time. But then with me, I had several photos with my mom, my sister and two friends from the academy that all showed me with a real eyes to toes smile. That's because when the photos were taken I was happy, with people who made me happy, doing stuff that made me happy. Sage didn't seem to fall into that category.

Or maybe I was overthinking it. I mean seriously, she was gorgeous. Any man (or woman!) would give a right arm to spend time with her. Well at least physically . . . if she wasn't truly happy then maybe that would change things.

As I pondered what might cause such a beautiful woman to maybe not be as happy in life, I suddenly found myself rummaging through her drawer without even realizing I was. I probably shouldn't be snooping around, but then the curiosity about her was killing me. She was interesting.

Space workers tended to always pack light, even if they were assigned long term to a ship like Sage. And she unsurprisingly had very little, but she did have some. She actually had stored several letters (yes actual paper-based letters as rare as they were). Some guy named Rexford Boles had sent her three letters and she had actually kept each in their initial envelopes. Pretty retro of her.

Ok, so I was curious, but I stopped myself. Somehow. I replaced the letters and gently closed the drawer.

"Bran??" I heard the call and jumped to my feet.

Sage sat on the edge of the bed, still clad only in underwear. She looked weak but she looked at me rather intensely.

"What are you doing?"

"Um . .sorry Sage. . I . . don't know you . . ."

"So you decided to snoop through my stuff?" The meds I had given her were still impacting her ability to keep it together but her anger seemed to be doing a pretty good job of compensating.

"Um . .I really am sorry . . .I . . " I really couldn't think of anything.

In a bit of a huff she stood quickly and immediately fell back onto the bed, a moan escaping her lips. Yep, that leg and the general dizziness both kept her from pummeling me.