“ All hands, this is the captain. ”
In Hangar Bay One, Jane and the rest of her squadron stopped what they were doing, and listened.
“ A couple of shipdays ago, contact with an unknown species was made by one of our starfighters while on patrol in the region of space we are currently in… ”
All heads in the hangar turned to look at Jane, who rolled her eyes. Her minor celebrity status, acquired because of the contact, was already beginning to wear on her.
The captain continued…
“ The senior officers and I have been discussing this with our Contact Ambassadors and other experts. I can assure you that the Fordham does not appear to be in any danger. In fact, so far, the contact seems to have been made with friendly intentions; however, we will, of course, take every precaution to ensure the safety of this ship and her crew.
“ Furthermore, it appears that we have been given an invitation by the unknown beings to visit a specified region of space here in Andromeda. After much discussion, it has been decided to take them up on that invitation and learn why it was given.
“ However, even though I have tremendous latitude in making these decisions without needing to consult with others, I have decided to temporarily return the Fordham to the Milky Way to discuss our discovery with the Unitary High Command. No doubt they will insist we investigate.
“ As soon as this message to you is finished, I will give the order to engage the fermion drive and return us to our home galaxy, and then to the Pecula System.
“ I have no idea how long we will remain in the Milky Way. It is my intention to return here to Andromeda with all expedience. No one will be allowed to leave the Fordham during our stay in the Milky Way. I would suggest that anyone who wishes to send messages to family or friends, to take advantage of this brief detour and do so.
“ That is all for now. Yarrum out. ”
After a moment, the hangar returned to its normal hubbub of activity and sound as everyone got back to work, including Jane, who was working with a maintenance tech to recalibrate the vacuum buffers on her Spacehawk’s targeting array.
“Alright,” Lydia Morris, call sign Knock Out, called out in a loud voice. “Anyone who wants to jump ship while we’re back in the Milky Way, I’ll have a sign-up sheet in the ready room!”
This earned a round of laughter from those nearby.
“I want to sneak off and do some shopping in Yette,” Angela Mancini—Volcano—said wistfully. She was also working on her Spacehawk nearby. Yette was the New York City of Pecula Prime, and had a great deal of amazing stores to shop in.
“Count me in,” Jane said, tightening a servo bolt on one of the vacuum buffers while the tech assisting her added xenon gas to a compression reservoir.
“Hey, Sommer…” Hadiza Chidozie said. She was a lithe Black woman from Nigeria, who kept her hair very short and dyed blonde. She and another of the 122 nd ’s maintenance techs were adding ceramic sealant to a join near the front landing gear of her starfighter, which was next to Jane’s.
“Yes, Sniper?” Sommer Alcott responded. She had chestnut hair and very girl-next-door features.
“Guess what I saw several hours ago?” Hadiza went on.
“Hmm…what?” Sommer asked. She wasn’t working on her Spacehawk, but was instead casually leaning against Hadiza’s. The two of them were best friends.
Jane could sense something was up. She had been around this lot for too long not to be able to discern the subtle inflections in each pilot’s voice which indicated that they were up to no good, and about to tease someone.
Oftentimes herself.
“Well…” Hadiza began, “I was on Deck 15—minding my own business—when I spotted Rascal having a drink at that juice bar we like.”
“Oh, really?” Sommer prodded, in a tone of voice which told anyone that she already knew the punchline of this particular story.
Jane rolled her eyes.
Here it comes…
“Yes,” Hadiza answered.
“I wonder why Rascal didn’t invite us to join her?” Sommer asked. “We love the drinks at that bar!”
“Well…I have a theory about that,” Hadiza said. “See, it turns out that our lovely Rascal wasn’t alone.”
Sommer gasped, and Jane wanted to throw the mag pliers she was holding at her.
“Who was she with?” Sommer asked, her voice dripping with sweet innocence.
“Do you remember that cute bridge ensign we made note of a long time ago?” Hadiza prodded.
Jane pursed her lips and shook her head.
I knew it…
Looking up from what she was doing, Jane saw Sommer put a pondering look on her face, which she knew was fake.
“You mean the blonde one?” Sommer inquired as if she had absolutely no clue which ensign Hadiza meant.
“Yes, that one,” Hadiza confirmed. “ That’s who Rascal was sharing a drink with.”
“Can’t really blame her, can we?” Sommer stated. “I mean, that ensign is cute! For an ensign, that is.”
“Alright, alright!” Jane exclaimed, stopping what she was doing. “It wasn’t what you think. And she’s a JG now, by the way.”
“Well, you ought to turn that situation into what we think,” Sommer said. “She’s adorable!”
“I’m not denying thaaaat! ” Jane replied in a sing-song voice, resuming her work. “But I won’t rush anything.”
Hadiza scoffed.
“Since when?” she asked snidely.
A sharp retort died in Jane’s throat when she realized that her friend had made a fair point. After all, she typically wasn’t afraid to rush into something with a cute woman.
“Fine,” she conceded with a huff. “But this time I am. Besides, she’s one of Commander Voss’s bridge officer candidates, so…”
She only said that to get Hadiza and Sommer off her back, anticipating that mentioning the connection between Vale and Commander Voss would let her friends know that caution was warranted in this particular case.
She supposed that was true, but only to a small extent. Even in the military, societal norms were such that it was considered a given that what two consenting adults did privately, during their downtime, was their business—outside the purview of even a starship’s first officer.
The real reason, however, that Jane didn’t want to rush into anything with Vale was because she sensed that, first of all, Vale was terrified, and secondly…that there might actually be something genuine that was worth taking her time to pursue.
***
Eleven shiphours later, Jane was in her quarters, coming down from an orgasmic high. She had just finished masturbating. It had been the first time in a few days and the climax had really hit her hard, making her scream into her pillow.
“Fuck!” she eventually muttered, still panting from her release. She dropped her haunches and lay flat on the bed, on her belly. She coaxed her pussy down from the orgasm by gently stroking her sticky folds with her fingers, and every now and then her entire body spasmed from the strength of the aftershocks which had already started.
A few minutes later, she was trying to decide what to do now…
Sometimes, massive orgasms put her to sleep. Sometimes, they made her want to cover herself with a blanket on the sofa and watch movies. And sometimes, they energized her.
This was one of those times.
She suddenly felt the need to be in motion, to do…something.
An idea came to her…
“Holly,” she said, her head resting on her pillow, and her hand still between her legs, “send a message to Lieutenant Junior Grade Veronica Vale, please. Text only. Message to read: Hey, I’m going for a run at The Ring. I don’t know if you’re off-duty, but if you’d like to join me, feel free. I should be there in about half an hour, starboard side, Entrance Five. End message and send.”
“Message sent,” Holly informed her via the overhead speakers.
“You didn’t include anything about my hand being where it is when you sent that, did you?” Jane asked.
“I did not, Jane,” Holly responded. “Would you like me to amend the message?”
“If amend means what I think it does, I would not!” Jane replied, blushing suddenly, and telling herself that the idea to invite Former Ensign Vale to come running with her had nothing to do with the fact that her hand was still petting her sex, its fingers becoming more and more covered with her arousal.
With a sigh—and somewhat reluctantly—she stopped touching herself and got up off the bed.
In the bathroom, she cleaned herself thoroughly before pulling her auburn hair into a ponytail. She then examined her face in the mirror, determining that she looked well-rested and sufficiently pretty for a ten-kilometer run around The Ring—and certainly well-rested and pretty enough to be seen with Former Ensign Vale.
If she even showed up.
Which Jane was realizing she really hoped would be the case.
It occurred to her now that she still hadn’t received a reply from Vale.
No bother, she decided, leaving the bathroom before opening a drawer in the bedroom to remove clean running gear.
She glanced out of her small window as she started getting dressed, noting the streaks of light zipping past it.
The Fordham , now in the Milky Way, was heading to the Pecula System. From what she had been told, it would take three days to reach that destination. She had wondered aloud during a squadron meeting why they couldn’t just use the fermion drive to abracadabra themselves directly to Pecula Prime. It was Colonel Mbuwe who had told her that was because the fermion drive hadn’t been authorized by Unitary member planets yet for use in inhabited or heavily traveled regions of space. From the little Jane knew of Unitary politics, that would probably take many Earth years to iron out.
Once dressed, with her running shoes on, she left her quarters. She still hadn’t heard from Vale, which caused a flicker of disappointment to flash in her chest. That in turn told her that she needed to figure out what she wanted to do about this attraction she had to the JG.
That Vale was also attracted to her, she had no doubt. The real question was, would Vale want to get involved with her—whatever involved meant in this case?
Her ego told her that Vale ought to be thrilled to get involved with her! After all, she was an accomplished and decorated pilot in one of the most elite and respected starfighter squadrons in the entire Unitary. And she was tall and beautiful! In short, she was trophy girlfriend material! In fact, she liked it when women she was involved with treated her as a trophy girlfriend and wanted to show her off.
Arriving at the boarding area for the lateral conveyor—which was basically the Fordham’s version of a subway—Jane waited for the next car to arrive to take her to the section of the starship where The Ring was located—about four kilometers away.
While waiting, she decided that she didn’t want to approach this thing with Vale from a position of ego. In all such cases it was probably wrong, but it felt particularly wrong in this case. It was obvious that Vale’s training had already made the young woman terrified of her. What Jane really wanted was for Vale to see her as Jane Belivet from Muncie, Indiana…a girl who was taller than both of her brothers, played basketball as a kid, and knew she wanted to be a starfighter pilot when she was six-years-old.
Less than ten minutes later, she was stepping off the lateral conveyor car, about a hundred meters from Entrance Five to The Ring.
Still no message from Vale…
As disappointing as that was, Jane didn’t read anything into it. Lowlies in all branches of the military had tough work schedules. Vale was probably on duty. Even if she wasn’t, she was probably studying or performing some menial task for a senior officer.
Jane walked through The Ring’s entrance and took a look around. It was the usual hive of activity for this time of day, with runners and walkers on the track, beings of various species sitting on the bleachers, and several different sporting activities happening on the infield.
She carefully crossed the track—avoiding anyone already on it—and stepped onto the grass of the infield. Just as she was getting ready to start stretching, she spotted a familiar figure with glowing blonde hair doing her own stretching exercises no more than thirty meters from her.
She smiled and approached.
“You made it!” she said to Vale.
Vale stopped stretching and straightened up until she was practically at attention.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said. “I got your message. Thank you for inviting me, ma’am.”
Jane sighed and rolled her eyes.
“You’re killing me, Vale,” she groaned.
“Ma’am?” Vale asked.
“With the ma’am stuff!” Jane replied. “What did I tell you about that?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Vale said. “I’ll…work on it.”
Jane sighed again.
“It’s one syllable!” she exclaimed. “Jane! It’s not like my name is Chrysanthemum or something equally ridiculous! One syllable!”
Jane had actually gone to high school with a girl named Chrysanthemum. In fact, that was the only reason she knew how to spell the word chrysanthemum.
“I promise to work on it, ma’am,” Vale responded.
Another sigh from Jane.
“I suppose that’s the best I’m going to get for now, isn’t it?” she asked. She threw her hands up in a helpless gesture. “Okay, I’ll leave you alone about it. Sorry for pressuring you.”
Vale smiled.
“No apology necessary, ma’am,” she said.
“Anyway, thanks for coming to join me,” Jane said. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Same here, ma’am,” Vale told her.
“Well, let me get stretched, Veronica ,” Jane said. “Because if I don’t stretch, Veronica , I’ll end up with who knows what kind of muscle problems. And once I’m done, then we’ll hit the track, Veronica. Does that sound okay to you, Veronica? ”
Miraculously, Vale burst into laughter. Even better, it was the unrestrained and authentic laughter of someone who was responding genuinely to something a friend had said, not a superior officer.
When she was done, Vale looked at her.
“That sounds perfect… Jane ,” she said.