Trinity: Discovery

All characters are fictitious. All characters involved in any sex act are over the age of 18. If stories involving incestuous acts are objectionable to you, please do not read.

********

"Are we there yet?"

"Lisa, please stop. I'm begging you. Why are you acting like a six-year-old?" I gritted my teeth half-jokingly.

Lisa had stolen the line from a movie that the girls and I had watched a few days ago and she's been using it ever since. Over and over. It's wearing thin.

Refocusing on the datpad, I went back to perusing the electronic personnel files that I had accessed.

Krystal Gabrial was apparently 38 years old, though I would put her at 28 by her looks. Her primary OP on the ship was that of General MedTech Level 2, which put her on par with a doctor back at home. She really knew her shit, too. I once saw her single-handedly cauterize an arterial bleed in an adult female and breath life back into the neighbor's Persian in the span of 30 minutes. The lady was eternally grateful. The cat, not so much. There's a report of the incident somewhere in this file, but at the moment I'm content to just soak in her picture. She has flawless skin of Asian Indian decent, with a stunningly beautiful face. At 1.6 meters tall and weighing around 50 kg, I would call her petite. Solid C sized breasts, firm, heavy. One of my favorite things to do is to gently press two conjoined fingers into them while we were making love or showering together... I love seeing them softly give way, creating an indentation in their perfect teardrop shape. The file's image layer contains several similes of her. The one I was fixated on shows her with long, black, wavy hair. 'That was taken, what, almost a year ago?' I asked myself. She had cut it a couple weeks before she had been reassigned to the Genesis, a science ship, after two of their three medical staff had died in unrelated incidents. That was a long eight months ago, and I miss my wife. We all do.

Katherine Gabrial. 19 years old. Primary OP: Teacher. She holds classes with half of the 6 to 8-year-old children in our neighborhood. She loves her job. She loves the kids. You can see it in the way she interacts with them, both in and out of the school environment. Kat gets her exotic beauty from her mother. She's petite, with long, black hair and a strikingly beautiful face. She's not as out-going as her mom, but with looks like hers, the boys have been sniffing around since she was 14. Krys and I didn't let her date until she was 17, and even then I had a hard time with it. 'HA!' She's grown into quite the young woman since then. Kat is the responsible one of the lot. All the kids are trustworthy, but Kat is the most dependable.

Thomas Gabrial. Also 19. Younger twin of Katherine. Primary OP: Botanist. My handsome son, as smart as his mother and sisters, is assigned to one of the AgMods, but in reality helps out in other areas of the ship as well. He's tall and thin like me, around 1.8 meters, but has his mother's smooth brown skin and dark hair. With his broad shoulders, killer smile, and outgoing personality, I often see him hanging with the ladies - 'That's my boy!' Thomas is off with a few friends 'camping' for two weeks, though I challenge the use of the term when campfires aren't allowed.

Lisa Gabrial. 17 years old. Primary OP: Undecided. My baby Lisa. It says in the file that she has above average intelligence and a "non-standard work ethic". I'd be upset at reading that if it weren't so true. She's not lazy, she's just... well, she's a free spirit and very existentially-oriented. Most of her days are spent hanging out with a friend or two working with the animals in AgMods. Lisa got most of her looks from me and my side of the family, and yet somehow she's also extremely beautiful. She has reddish-blonde hair and pale skin with light freckles across her cheeks and nose. She has moderate freckling all over her body as well. Like me, she's tall and thin.

"Are we there yet?"

Michael Gabrial. 43 years old. Primary OP: Navigation. I steer the ship. Well, myself and thirteen other officers and 34 subordinates. We are currently traveling at 0.5% of the speed of light - crazy fast. Our ship, the Trinity, is a Pederson class Large Scale Shuttle which left Mars orbit 2 years, 3 months and 3 days ago bound for the Juarez Space Station. We are on course and, if all continues as planned, we will arrive at our planned destination in 3 years and 4 months, give or take. However, there are always unseen variations in the flight plan. For example, we slowed to .016SOL and altered our course briefly to better launch the shuttle that brought Krys to the Gabrial. This two week long maneuver retarded our planned arrival at the Juarez by 87 days.

Anywho... as you can tell, I like to do navigational math in my head when I'm bored.

And I'm bored a lot.

Changing focus, I stared blankly at the brass, 30 cm miniature sextant that adorned the desk. "Michael Gabrial - FIRST MATE" was engraved on a metallic plate that was seemingly tied to the base. Then "Maine Maritime Academy - 2265". The plate had been formed with the edges made to look like rope had woven it to the base. Knots of a similar look decorated the four corners of the plate. I had earned it at a volunteer course where the class had done two 4 months stints at sea in a replicant 18 century sailing ship. What a time we had.

"Are we there yet?"

"That's it! I can't take anymore!" I cried, jumping up from my console in the home office in a mock rage. Lisa was sitting cross-legged in one of the spare office chairs. As I passed her on the way to the door our eyes met. I stuck my tongue out at her and contorted my face.

She reciprocated in kind.

When she least expected it, I suddenly lunged and surprise-tickled her sides. "STOP DAD STOP!!" she screamed as she tried to turtle. I could hear the little girl in her laugh, making me think of birthdays past. I walked away grinning and triumphantly flexing, making sure she knew who was boss around here. "I'm going to go run some laps, then maybe take a swim," I announced, not even looking back.

Our "house" had two levels, sorry... floors. Each has a similar layout, with two hallways connecting in something like a "T". The office was at one end of the horizontal of the "T" on the lower floor. 'Two years and I'm still trying to use these stupid names they want us to use... house, floor, neighborhood'. Also on the first floor is the kitchen, dining room, living room, a family room and a half bathroom. The front door was also on this floor located at the very base of the "T". This exterior door was actually an airtight hatch, one of the many redundant safety features on board. The upper floor had the master bedroom and a bedroom for each of the kids, as well as a laundry room, and a bathroom.

I went up the stairs, making my way into the master bedroom. There I changed into some workout shorts and a t-shirt, threw some things into a sports bag, then left our house and headed out into the streets of Haven. Originally (and coldly) called Zone 3, one of the first orders of business our neighborhood conducted after departure was to vote for a new name for this place that was going to be our new home for the next 5-plus years. Haven won. The name makes us feel like we're back on Earth just a bit. Or maybe more accurately, it simply wasn't a reminder of being trapped in a fragile bubble of atmosphere out in the cold blackness of the void.

I like our neighborhood, Haven. Next door to our house are the Ngyens on one side and the Aansons on the other. Directly across the "street" from us are the Dokars. In all, 64 houses in our neighborhood organized into four perfect quadrants, or blocks - four streets making up the perimeter of the neighborhood in the shape of a large square where all the residences are, and two streets bisecting this square, one horizontally and one vertically, creating four smaller squares. These bisecting streets are where all our neighborhood's service and businesses are located.

The true hierarchical residence schema of the Trinity was: 1 family per house; 16 houses per block; 4 blocks per neighborhood; 64 neighborhoods per module; and 256 residential modules, each adhered to the spiny, elongated main structure of the ship. This put over a million homes on the Trinity. There are around 128 more modules that are non-residential as well. Most of those are agricultural, but there were also science and storage modules. Two modules were fully devoted to dirt. We live in Habitat Module 8, or hab8.

"Hello, Mr. Gabrial," a small voice said. Looking down I saw tiny Ichiro riding his little tricycle.

"Hello Ichiro. How are you today?" I futilely queried as the little boy had already moved on and either didn't hear me or couldn't be bothered to answer.

Returning to my leisurely stroll to the rec center, my mind continued to review my life as I now knew it.

The streets I'm walking on, indeed we all are walking on, are made of Gravex and are artificially lit from the ceiling three stories up. Gravex is a superconducting material that generates gravity when electricity is passed through it. It's more complicated than that, but that's the basics of it. The entire floor of the module is made of Gravex, as is the ceiling. As long as the gravity wells are operational and producing electricity, and the Gravex is connected to those wells we experience just about the same gravity as those on Earth. Wonderful, huh? If only they could find a way to pipe in fresh air.

Every 8 neighborhoods shared a recreation house which contained a gym, track, pool and the various sporting equipment needed to keep the population physically fit. This sharing system promotes inter-neighborhood mingling. Religious houses, markets, hospitals, and schools were also similarly dispersed across clusters of 8 neighborhoods.

"Dad!"

I turned to see Kat jogging to catch up to me. She was carrying her pink sports bag and wearing a solid brown, tasseled bathing suit coverup that extended nearly down to her knees, and flipflops. Her long hair was woven into a much shorter, very wide braid which clung to the back of her head.

"Hey sweetie," I said, visibly happy for the company. "Going to catch some rays?" It was an absolutely beautiful (artificially) sunny day.

"Yea, some swimming... some lounging. Lisa said you were heading to the pool. Want some company?" she asked as she took my hand and leaned her head against my arm.

We entered the rec house, both of us waving to a few people we knew, some only by face, others by name. Kat and I said our byes and we each went to our proper changing rooms. I threw my bag into the bin that was assigned to me, did a few minutes of stretching, and exited out to the public space just as Kat was just leaving the women's area. From across the 10 meters that separated us I saw she had removed her brown cover, leaving it in the dressing area. She wore dark, highly reflective sunglasses over her eyes, a tan one-piece bathing suit, and her flipflops. A smaller bag was clutched in her left hand, probably containing lotion. I pretended to do a little stretching as I admired what a fine, beautiful woman she had turned into. This wasn't a new revelation. She had shed her adolescent body when she was fifteen, her A sized breasts quickly developing into Bs seemingly over the course of a week, with the remainder of her curves happening the following week.

'And that ass,' I thought as she turned to talk to a friend. 'Just like her mom's. I miss Mom's ass.'

Wait a minute. That was no friend. That was Steven. Steven was a nice enough guy. 20-ish, but he somehow seemed to have retained that early teen awkwardness. He could never seem to say the right thing for any given situation. I sometimes felt bad for him, but right now I felt bad for Kat. I could see her eyes darting left and right, up and down and her feet shuffling in place. I recognized the unconscious vibes that indicate she wants something uncomfortable to change, in this case she was wanting this one-sided conversation to end.

I approached them from behind Kat. When I was about 2 meters away, "Steven!" I yelled and waived my hand in an overdone gesture. "How's it going?"

Kat turned, an expression of mild relief on her face. "Hi Dad!"

"Hi sweetie!" I said, planting a fatherly kiss on her forehead. Then, turning to face the object of my deflection, "Steven, your mother is on the cleaning team this month, right? I want to point out something to you, maybe you could kindly mention it to her?"

I took Steven's arm and herded him towards the men's changing area.

Glancing back over my shoulder I could see Kat mouth "Thank You!" to me and wave.

Daddy saves the day. Oh yea.

********

I ran my laps, headed to the locker rooms and changed into my swimwear.

Walking past the shallow end of the large community pool to the 1-meter mark, I watched the woman on the low diving board. It was Ella, a 28-ish year old widow from Coventry, a.k.a., Zone 6, and she was looking fine in that bathing suit. Her husband had died of an embolism about a year ago, Krys had told me. Glancing around, I saw other married men desperately trying to not look at her as well.

'I miss my Krys'. I sat down on the edge of the pool, then lowered myself into it. The water breaching my suit allowed my member to float freely - just like in zero-g. I casually leaned back against the wall in the waist-deep water scanning the pool for Kat.

I heard a splash, looked toward the diving boards to find no sign of Ella.

Two seconds later, Ella popped up out of the water not a meter from me. She was wearing a tight little one piece that plunged down in the front to expose plentiful cleavage. She swept her shiny, wet, brown hair back over her head with both hands and looked at me as she sunk back down into the water to her chin.

Moving closer to me, she said, "Michael! I thought I saw you. Any more thought about my proposal?"

Ella was very... blunt. About three months ago at a barbeque we had both attended, she had quietly pulled me aside and offered me the "wildest night of my life". Just out of the blue. I was shocked. Of course, I refused her, "I'm a happily married man" I had told her.

Looking deeply up into my eyes and floating closer, she said, "The offer still stands." I felt her hand gently ride up my right thigh, cross my shorts, making my long-neglected dick move a tad, and lightly retreat down my left thigh. Ella smiled and stood, remaining ever so close.

At this point, I was only thinking about my two immediate goals. First, 'Do NOT move your eyes! Do NOT look at those tits!' I swear out of the periphery of my vision, flanking Ella's very deep cleavage, I could see two very large, very hard nipples. And second, 'Do NOT get a hard on!'

I was pretty sure I was safe on the second one. Though I felt my cock had somewhat unfolded in my shorts, I doubted it was very noticeable. As long as she didn't start rubbing me there, I'd be fine.

And I think I could manage the first one too. Ella's tits were large, no doubt about it. And whatever material that suit was made from should be banned from public places. It was clingy and glossy and when the light hit it, shadows emphasized the underside of those wonderous...

"My eyes are up here, Michael," Ella chortled.

'FUCK!' - But so worth it. She had large D tits. Tits I just wanted to unwrap and squeeze and dump oil on and make my own. I wanted to do things to them that...

Kat suddenly and miraculously surfaced right beside me, brushing my outer thigh and hip. As a reflex, I turned to her as she stood and pressed into me, wrapping her arms around my chest and squeezing to give me a distractive hug. My mind was still trying to process Ella's wonderous breasts when the closeness of this hug took over my brain. My Kat was holding me too tightly. My soft-on was pressing into her belly and her tits were rubbing against my lower chest.

Separating and grabbing my hand, she leaned back and dragged me with her into the water and away from Ella.

I quickly gathered my composure and shouted, "Gotta go Ella."

"Bye Mrs. Cranston!" Kat cried as we swam into shallower water.

'Wonderful,' I thought. 'The shallow end.'

"We make a great team!" she excitedly declared. "You saved me, and I saved you. Ready to head home?" Kat asked, standing and looking down on me.

"Almost," I said, sitting cross legged on the pool floor in water just deep enough to cover the minor bulge in my trunks. "I just want to sit here for a minute. I think I may have pulled my calf muscle when I was running."

"What?" She sounded part surprised and part suspicious. "This is the shallow end of the pool. You hate the shallow end of the pool. 'It's where all the little kids hang out and pee,' you always say."

It was true, though I use the term "piss". I avoid shallow water when kids are around. Soaking in urine is not my idea of fun.

Kat's expression changed from suspicion to one of confirmed suspicion. "Da-dee," she called me while smugly smiling. She drew out each syllable and her pitch rose on the second, implying more of an unasked question than the word she uses almost exclusively to get my attention.

"What? And what's that look for?" 'Please don't answer that.' "Why don't you go on ahead and get your stuff together. I'll catch up in a minute."

Her smile broadened wider as she sat down beside me, replying "That's OK. I want to wait for you."

She swung her feet out towards the deeper water and laid back, reclining on her elbows.

I turned to look at her and saw she had a huge shit-eating grin on her face. She was looking forward and, all on their own, my eyes shot down to her chest. The tan of her suit accentuated the darker brown of her skin, which was smooth except for the many small water droplets which clung to it. The valley formed in the conservative V-cut of her suit was shallow, but well defined. In her current position, gravity had weighted her lovely orbs slightly to her sides, widening that valley, and causing her breasts to hang out over her ribs slightly. Her wet suit was as smooth and as satiny as her skin, and seemingly stretched to its limit as it strained to hold her bosom from view.

"My eyes are up here, Dad."

'FUCK!' Shooting my eyes up, our gazes met. She was still smiling.

I hunched forward to break the eye contact, but more so to hide the wet lift that was still in my trunks. 'Had it grown more?'

"You miss Mom, huh? I can tell." I sensed her move to a sitting position. "It's ok Dad," she said as she leaned over and rested her head against my arm.

After several awkward minutes of doing many navigational calculations in my head, I felt as though my pants had returned to their more publicly accepted form. I rubbed my calf briefly even though I knew she wasn't buying the pulled muscle story. "Shall we go?" I said, rising.

"Yea. Let's go."

When we were both standing, Kat took my hand. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, hon."

We each retrieved our things and we walked silently home together.

********

I closed the door behind us. The foyer was empty, but Lisa was coming down the stairs with a bag strapped to her back. She was dressed in a long white dress that sported a very colorful floral pattern.

"Hi Dad. Hey Kat." She said stepping off the last step and dropping her bag on the floor.

Katherine headed into the family room without saying a word.

"Hey sweetie. Where ya going?" I asked.

"Shelly asked if I wanted to stay over." Lisa answered, watching Kat head off.

"Sounds like fun. Her parents gonna be home?" I inquired.

"Yea. Well, her mom will be. What's up with Ms. Grouchypants? And you look like you're sad or something. Something happen?"

I looked to see Katherine just disappearing into the family room. "Not sure about her, but I'm ok," I lied. "I'll talk with her in a bit."