The Furies

"Computer, set course for Deneba Seven,"

"Working."

A few minutes later the computer spoke up again.

"Calculations complete. FTL engines online, awaiting your signal, Captain,"

"Action," the old man ordered in a hushed tone.

"Acting."

Red alarm lights flashed, giving warning. Crew members braced themselves all over the ship and then, with a sickening lurch, the giant ship sparkled and disappeared from the Halderon system.

"Estimated flight time, forty two hours."

"Helm, you may stand down from general quarters," he ordered as he rose, pointed to Erica and retreated to his office.

Once inside Erica took a seat while the old man eased himself into the chair behind his desk.

"Surprised it went that smoothly," he commented finally.

"What the fuck is going on, Carl?" she demanded, forgetting military courtesy for the moment.

"News from the front. The Trog have introduced a new kind of capital ship. It's severely under gunned, but shielded so strongly that even a fleet's worth of PPCs can't get penetration."

"So what's that got to do with us? The old girl's fifteens can't be needed that badly if the big boys can't penetrate."

He looked at her gravely, swallowed hard and spoke in a near whisper.

"You're standing on seventh fleet's biggest boy, Captain," he said, fishing a bottle out of his desk drawer and taking a deep pull.

"My god…" Erica exclaimed, collapsing in her chair.

"The Trog introduced this new ship class en mass. The intelligence boys must have been jerking off the last two years, but they hit the fleet anchorage at Yalo and caught us with our pants down. The casualty reports are still coming in, but nothing bigger than a destroyer escaped."

"So they are just sending us out to die gloriously then?" she asked as he passed the bottle and she took a deep swallow.

"No. We are heading for Deneba to take on a new series of fighter-bombers and a new experimental weapon."

"What kind of weapon can possibly make the Yorktown able to stand up to a fleet that's thousands strong?"

"I don't know. My orders don't say. How would you rate this class, Erica?" he said, seemingly changing the subject.

"They're pretty good. Not the best overall class, but perhaps three or four of the best pilot prospects I've seen in a long while. Why?"

"They got all seven fleet carriers and most of the auxiliaries. You, your officers, and this class are the only active air group left in seventh fleet".

"We're it?" she said incredulously.

"At this time, Yalo is scraping the bottom of the barrel to even field a single command. There might be some flights that were on TDD, but we won't know for a while about them. As of right now, you are all we have."

"They're out of their fucking minds, sue for peace!" Lucky declared.

"She's right, these kids are green as grass and haven't even checked out on advance designs, much less an experimental one," Surfer added.

"And half of 'em can't hit the broad side of a barn," Goose added.

"I didn't bring you here to decide policy. I'm just telling you what our orders are," Erica said wearily.

"I know, Boss, but this is insane. I don't mind dying for the cause, but I don't want to be a sacrificial lamb," Surfer replied.

"We have to buy time. Third fleet, Sixth fleet and the Home fleet have all been mobilized, but it could be three or four months before they arrive."

"So what if they do? Seventh fleet was the pride of the Navy. If they wiped us out in one stroke, what the fuck good are the rest of 'em? Do they hope the Trogs will get confused by too many fucking targets?" Lucky exploded.

"That's enough, Lieutenant."

"What's this new wonder weapon?" Goose asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine, but it's fighter mounted whatever it is."

"Oh great. Just great. Fan-fucking-tastic. Us four and forty-three wet noses in experimental fighters with experimental weapons versus the Trog fleet. What idiot dreamed this up?" Lucky groused.

Erica shot her a look, but said nothing. She knew Lucky well. The flamboyant pilot wasn't worried or scared, she was just complaining. It was in her nature to bitch and moan rather than get intimidated by long odds or bad news.

"How long can we afford to train?" Goose asked.

That encouraged her. If Goose was putting her mind to the task at hand, it was a very good sign.

"Two weeks. Maybe three. It depends on the Trog. They had to retreat from Yalo, the starbase's big mass drivers proved too much for even this super ship to repel. But they'll be back. Yalo is the critical jump point. If they take that, the entire eastern arm of the empire will be open to them."

"Pull up your skirts and bend over," Lucky said in a much less strident tone. Erica had a good feel for her people and she could see the enormity of it was setting in.

"Take the evening off. I'll have Tuck cut the cadets loose too. Go out, get drunk. Get shit faced if you want. Fuck 'til you can't walk straight. Just be ready for the demonstration when we get to Deneba."

"Great idea, Bel's?" Lucky enthused.

Surfer and Goose both nodded. Erica smiled and admired their courage. The end of the world could be upon them, perhaps it was, but these three would spend the night drinking and face it when it came. She might not live too long with this command, but she knew she would never have one with finer people.

"Meet up at the mess hall in say, an hour?"

"Make it an hour and a half, might as well do it up right, may be our last hurrah," Goose said.

Lucky and Surfer both rose and exited, talking excitedly, but Mindy stayed a moment.

"You coming with us, boss?"

"No, I'd better stay here."

"Oh, come on. Live a little. Even if you get rip roaring drunk and do a table dance, what will it matter tomorrow?"

"You know Goose, you're right, I'll be there," Erica replied with a smile.

Erica sat on her bed and watched the steam rise from her flushed skin. She felt better after the hot shower, but was now at a loss. She moved to her closet and examined the contents. A flight suit, five dress uniforms, three A uniforms, her flight jacket and that was it. She hadn't worn civies in years, but found herself wishing she had a dress. She closed the door and looked at her reflection.

Her long, toned legs looked good for her age. Her large breasts were still firm, but she could detect a slight sag that hadn't been there before. Her waist was trim, and her hips slim, but over all they gave her a nice figure. She wasn't all that caught up in her appearance, but lately she had found herself looking more often.

"Damnit," she whispered.

Try as she might, she had to come to grips with the truth. She had been looking ever since she first locked eyes with Rebel. The short girl, with her angry, sullen eyes and defiance had turned her on. There was no use denying it. It was the same excitement she had felt with William.

Shaking her head, she put both lovers, past and dream, out of her mind and quickly dressed selecting her bomber jacket rather than a dress tunic. She was going out tonight and she was going to get drunk. Not just drunk, but shit faced. She was going to live tonight, like there was no tomorrow. Frankly, she wasn't very confident there would be too many more tomorrows for her or the rest of the people she knew.

She met Lucky, Goose and Surfer at the appointed time. Lucky wore black pants, a black top and black leather jacket. Surfer had on blue jeans that barely stayed up, and a top made of some red, shimmery material. Goose wore dress blues, along with her flight jacket.

"Damn boss, you look like one of the girls. Ready to tie one on?" Lucky asked.

"Lead on, Mcduff," Erica responded with a smile.

Rebel, Lou, Holly and Cloudy all sauntered into Bel's place. This was it, the last rite of passage, the holiest of holies. For several generations, through several owners, every class had their first drink as pilots here. Normally, they wouldn't be allowed into town until after graduation. The change in procedure and the ship's jump had tongues wagging. There was scuttlebutt with a thousand different reasons and destinations, all wrong.

The place was packed, most of their class already here and drinking. At other tables techs, mechanics and administrative staff laughed too loud and drank. Something big was going down, they could all feel it.

"Well, grab us a table, I'll get the drinks," Cloudy said.

"Purple passion for me," Holly said.

"I want a brain buster!" Lou said with a laugh.

"Rebel?"

"Never had a drink in a bar. Just homemade stuff. Get me whatever," she replied.

As Cloudy moved towards the crowded bar, Rebel made her way to a table that was just being cleared by a tired looking waitress. She and the others had just sat down when three guys walked up.

"Mind if we join you?" a tall black man in Marine dress blues inquired.

"Please!" Lou enthused.

Cloudy returned with the drinks and soon they were all conversing, laughing and joking. Rebel sat back and sipped her drink, enjoying the fiery sensation and smoky taste of the amber liquid. She wasn't interested in the guys and only kept up with the conversation sparingly. Her restless eyes roved around the crowded bar, singling out individuals for a few moments before moving on.

A loud laugh got her attention and she found herself staring at a corner table. Lucky was laughing, holding one of the new pilots in her lap. The Goose was holding hands with a cute redhead in tech coveralls and Surfer had a girl on either side of her. She noticed these in only an oblique way, she was focused on the woman who had her back to her.

She was blonde, slumped in her chair, almost huddled into the heavy brown jacket she wore. She seemed to be a spectator, not part of the crowd at the table, alone even surrounded by people. She was vaguely familiar, but Rebel couldn't place her. The woman seemed to feel eyes upon her and turned suddenly.

Rebel had just taken a sip of her drink and almost spit it out. Erica!

The Air Boss stared for a moment, smiled tentatively and raised her glass. Rebel raised hers, and took a sip. The commander did likewise then turned back to her table.

"Rebel? Rebel?...hey you!" Cloudy shouted.

"What?"

"You okay? You look like you just saw a ghost," Cloudy said with a concerned look.

"Yeah, fine. Just noticed the Boss and the instructors are here," she said quickly.

"Damn, I didn't think ole tight britches knew how to relax," Holly commented.

"The Air Boss?" Brian, one of the Marines inquired.

"Yeah," Holly replied.

"She's got to be the most hard up bitch in history. I've been stationed on this scow for two years now and have never seen her out. Old tight-ass, that's what they call her."

To everyone's shock Rebel bristled at the remark. For a few moments it was very tense, but Lou grabbed Mark by the hand.

"Let's dance!"

The three women and their respective suitors all hurried to the dance floor, with only Cloudy throwing Rebel a concerned glance.

She relaxed, wondering what had gotten into her. She glanced back at the boss, to see her sitting alone at her table. Nearly everyone was on the dance floor as music blared and people gyrated. The lights dimmed to almost nothing, with only the strobes casting harsh light at intervals. Not exactly sure what she was doing, Rebel got up and walked over to the table.

"Boss?"

She looked up suddenly, obviously startled from some deep reverie. Her face was flushed and her long lashes were damp.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

"No, it's all right," she said, wiping tears from her lovely blue eyes.

"I..uh..well…"

"Yes?"

"Fuck it. Would you like to dance?" Rebel blurted out, blushing from head to foot.

She was waiting for the fireworks, maybe a lecture on fraternization, or quoting some regulation or other. Shocked outrage that she thought the boss was a dyke. Righteous indignation or something. What she got surprised the hell out of her.

"I'd love to, but I don't know how," the tall woman said softly. She blushed and lowered her eyes. Rebel felt her heart leap. She had never imagined the Air Boss to be shy, but the words and actions were almost painfully so.

Rebel laughed and it became even harder to control when Erica's confusion became evident on her pretty features.

"Hell, Boss, I don't know how either. We'll just wing it," she said, extending her hand.

Erica's hand was soft and warm. Rebel guided her to the floor and then hesitantly took the tall woman in her arms. She could see Erica was unsure, but she wasn't about to let her go, so she just started moving.

While everyone else cavorted and gyrated, they just rocked in each other's arms. No words were exchanged, and half the time Erica had her head down so Rebel couldn't even see her eyes.

Leigh had never felt so sure, so right. Never in her life had she wanted something as badly as she wanted this woman. It didn't make sense, but she didn't care. Her heart told her it was right and her head was easily outvoted.

The song was ending and Rebel had to make an agonizing decision. She didn't want to let go, but she knew the lights would come up and she felt in her heart it would hurt the Boss to be seen dancing with her. Reluctantly she released her hold and lead Erica back to her table.

By the time the lights came up, she was back at her table, sipping thoughtfully on her drink. The night wore away and the guys disappeared. Cloudy along with them. Lou ended up leaving with Lucky and Surfer came to drag Holly away with her. The boss remained, drinking and conversing with the Goose and the little man Rebel assumed owned the place. They were still there when she finally got up, and staggered back to her room.

Holly was tipsy still and stumbled slightly as Surfer gently shoved her into the zero-g workout room. She giggled as the dark haired instructor shut the door and pressed the button that took the gravity down. Holly floated up, laughing and trying to keep her skirt down, while she rolled onto her back.

While the blonde twirled and played, Surfer was busy. Using simple techniques to keep herself neutrally posed, she removed her shoes and tunic, followed by her bra, boxers, and pants. From the small gym bag she had picked up in her room, she took out her harness and buckled it on, adjusting it a few times, until she was pretty sure it had just enough slack in it to allow for the "give" in her partner in the zero-g environment.

"Get naked," she called to Holly as she removed several straps from the bag.

In no time the blonde's dress, bra, panties and shoes floated with Surfer's clothes. The instructor aimed herself at the free floating blonde and pushed off from the wall with her legs. She shot across the room, grabbing one of Holly's ankles which caused them both to spin.

Surfer slapped the quick-close Velcro cuff around the blonde's ankle. From her bag she pulled out a round object, with steel clips coming from each side. She clipped one to the manacle and applied another slap manacle to Holly's other ankle. Once it was secure she caught the other clips and ran it out, attaching it to the D ring on the manacle.

"What's this for?" Holly asked.

She opened her legs wide, watching as the strap reeled out of the black plastic sphere. When she stopped using her muscles to hold her legs open, the straps, under tension reeled back in, pulling her ankles together at the edges of the sphere.

"Zero-g sex is a blast, but it takes some extra equipment," Surfer explained as she wrapped a wide black girdle around Holly's slim waist.

It closed at the front, like a cummerbund, but Holly could feel heavy protuberances at the small of her back, and the cold chill of metal on her skin. Surfer took an expandable spreader bar, with Velcro wraps at the end and attached it to Holly's legs, just below her knees.

She then reached around the girl and spread her hands, grabbing a mammary in each. As her hands began to knead them, she gently tongued the blonde's ear.

Holly moaned and tried to push back against Surfer, but found she only sent them spinning. The butch didn't try to stop them, but continued to knead her breasts and worry her ear. The ripples of pleasure from her breasts soon became disjointed as she grew dizzy from the uncontrolled spin. As the blood rushed to her head, the jolts of pleasure from her nipples gained in magnitude and clarity, far surpassing anything she had ever experienced from them before.

Surfer nipped her ear and growled as she captured the now erect nipples and began to roll them, jacking up the pleasure Holly was feeling.

She moaned and gasped, her mouth working but only squeaks escaping. Surfer laughed softly and let her hands trail down to Holly's pussy. Contact there was strangely less powerful than she expected.

Surfer didn't spend much time there, apparently she was well used to the way sensation was changed. She reached behind her, locating a button on the sphere and when she hit it, the straps retracted fully and locked.

She then brought the head of her strangely shaped dildo to Holly's entrance and slowly pushed it in. The hook at the end settled deep in her pussy and with a flick of a button, it began to gently vibrate.

"Oh my god!" Holly exclaimed.

"You ain't seen nothing yet, babe," Surfer whispered.

She took the last two items from her bag and let it go spinning off into space using her body to slow the spin until they were barely rotating.

She put the slap shackles over her ankles and then used the handles on the belt Holly wore to pull herself deeply into the blonde. Surfer then extended a foot out under Holly's body.

The cuff on her ankle was attached to another cuff with a miniature version of a ratcheting sphere between them.

"Put the cuff on your wrist, babe," Surfer commanded.

Holly attached it and then the other one.

"Done," she moaned, the vibe really starting to get to her now.

"Ready for the ride of your life?"

"Yes!" She gasped.

Surfer immediately kicked down with her legs. When the spheres had let out all their slack they snapped tight and the pair began to rotate in a slow tumble. Locking her hands into the steel handles on the belt, she wrenched to one side as hard as she could, beginning the pair spinning as they rotated.

Holding tight to the bars and letting her thighs rest against the spreader bar, Surfer just relaxed and let physics fuck Holly to oblivion.

Centrifugal force tried to move them apart, but there was only enough slack in the arm cuffs to allow Surfer to get far enough away to remove about half the dildo from Holly's dripping pussy. When the spheres hit the end, they would ratchet back, sinking it into her again. The spin seemed to send blood speeding to her pussy even as the rotation sent it to her head.

The sensation was pleasant at first, but Surfer continued to shift her weight slowly adding to the spin and rotation. As she did so, Holly began to enter an altered state of consciousness. The highly oxygenated blood rushing to her brain began to disjoint her perceptions. The sensations coming from her pussy took on a more and more exaggerated importance as other sensation began to wane.

The pleasure was unimaginable as she began to feel she could distinguish every minor ridge and bump on the dildo as it sliced into her very juicy pussy. The vibe was working on her G-spot and each rotation threw Surfer to a point where the vibe dragged along her clit as it slid back into her pussy.

"Omigod, omigod, omidgod," she chanted as the waves of bliss began to take on unparalleled precedence in her perception. The first orgasm was so powerful it demanded she scream. She had never been very vocal before, but nothing short of a scream would do. After the first, more followed, a mind shattering deluge of contractions, relaxations, pulses of pleasure that were stronger than any she had previously known.