Aurorae

By Maggi O'Mally

Lt. Mowsra "Mouse" Sriza suspects Lt.Cdr. Muscovich of
hiding something about her lover, Capt. Sherrads death.
He is, but its not what she suspects.


Thrown into a close working relationship, theyll have to find a
way to make it work. If they can't, theyll jeopardize the lives
of the crew and the safety of the ship. Sparks of mistrust and
fl ames of lust clash as they face danger, disease, and desire.


Will they learn to trust? Can they trust in love?


Warning: Contains explicit sexual subject matter.


Not intended for readers under the age of 18.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 24, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483625256

Maggi O'Mally

Ms. O’Mally grew up an avid reader. She didn’t care if the books she read taught her something or just took her away on flights of fancy. As a teen, she would read to her younger brother or make up stories to make him giggle. When she had children, she read to them to instill the love of reading to the next generation. As her eyesight declined, she decided to try writing poetry and prose and has found it as enjoyable as reading. She enjoys it so much she’s been encouraging her sister and son to try it. (Without success…yet.)

Book preview

Copyright © 2013 by Maggi O’Mally.

Cover art by C Mike Williams.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Warning: This novel contains graphic language, explicit sex,

violence, and adult situations.

It is not suitable for readers under the age of 18.

Rev. date: 04/16/2013

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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133386

Contents

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 1

TRENCH RULES

CREW ROSTER

For my unborn star child

Thank you, MaryLou, Mike and Marie, and Sue

INTRODUCTION

Welcome to my world.

Authors are a strange breed. They look like anybody else walking around. They have family and friends and know their stories. They also read books and watch movies and experience those stories. But authors also have stories running around in their heads. Stories that scream to be told. Characters that are so real, if you screw with them or ignore them they will give you a headache the size of Texas. (I take migraine tabs to retaliate. I have a life, too, you know.)

(Disclaimer: All authors may not be as strange as I am.)

December 21, 2012 didn’t end the world but it was the last day of my old life. Prior to that day, I had written poetry and songs but never published any. I never thought I would write something as big as a book. Oh, I had other worlds living in my head, but they seemed content to stay there and entertain only me. December 22, 2012, I had to sit and write the first of many chapters in this book. I say ‘had to’ because I was compelled to write it. I thought if I wrote it, they’d stop pestering me and the headaches would stop. They didn’t. They began pestering me more. But at least the headaches would stop as long as I kept telling their stories. By year’s end, I had six chapters drafted. By Epiphany I had them cleaned up enough to ask a friend if they were worth reading. Their answer… ‘Hell yeah. What happens next? You can’t leave me hanging like this.’ And so, a book was born. Actually, the characters tell me ten, maybe twelve. But we’ll start with this one.

Let me tell you a little about its background.

Earth has encountered an alien race, the Fencari, who are determined to rule our spiral arm of the Milky Way. Earth has depleted her resources and needs more for her people and the war. Exploratory ships, like the space springer Aurorae, are sent out on 1 ½ to 3 year missions to find resources and allies. The Aurorae returns to Earth every 18 months.

Since the war began, exploratory ships are no longer permitted to make first contact with alien races. Their prime mission is discovery of resources, possible allies and viable colonization planets and reporting them back to Earth. Their secondary mission is to provide space and spacecraft experience to those who will be sent off to war.

Alien races are enticed to join the Terran military by dispensation of special privileges. One of those is to not have to go to war. This is the privilege most taken advantage of because aliens are a very small minority on the warships and therefore are the targets of bigoted persecution. However, avoiding war duty only fuels the fires of bigotry and aliens everywhere in Terran society, on Earth and on the ships, are mistrusted and feared.

All Terrans are subject to warship duty, with certain exceptions, though most of these exceptions become burdens to those being exempted by them. Because of the war and the lack of resources, Terran society on Earth has become fragmented and unforgiving. The best most Terrans can hope for is to be selected for off-world colonies where they can build their own society and make their own laws.

The Aurorae is unique. Her crew has bonded and become like family, even the crew from alien races are accepted as part of the family. However, they still have their troubles as well as their joys.

CHAPTER 1

*Ship Logs*

Mouse was standing next to the captain’s chair on the bridge, awaiting the reappearance of the shuttle. It appeared at the far end of the asteroid. She breathed a sigh of relief. Any time an anomaly was inspected the crew was concerned. Anything could happen and often did.

Mouse, I’ve lost the engines.

Damn. She slapped the com button. Chief, what’s happening down there?

I don’t know, sir. The power fluctuations are getting worse and we can’t keep the engines up.

Find the problem and get it fixed. Do we still have our thrusters?

Aye, sir, but not much longer at this rate.

Get someone on them. Without them we’re target practice for these asteroids.

Aye, sir.

She looked back at the navcons. Mercy, plot a course for the closest edge of the belt. I want us clear until we have full power. Can we manage to make it with just our maneuvering thrusters?

I think so, sir.

Fine. Sean, Reestablish comlink with the shuttle. I want them…

Sir! Mercy interrupted her, There’s something near the shuttle. It’s making a ripple in the space near them.

Where? Enlarge the area.

There. Mercy indicated an area of space not far from the shuttle. She enlarged the view of the area. There was a ripple in space.

Can you tell what it is?

No, sir.

Sean, contact the shuttle and get them back here. I want all scans on that spot. I want to know what it is.

Sir, I can’t raise the shuttle. I can’t get anything on any frequency.

The entire bridge crew watched in horror as the shuttle elongated and slipped into the anomaly and disappeared. Follow them, Mercy. Her voice held a pleading note in the order.

I can’t, sir, the ripple is gone.

Oh, gods. Mouse stumbled and grabbed the captain’s chair to remain upright. "Where did they go? What the hell was that? Somebody talk to me. I want every scientist up here. I want to know what the hell that was. I want to know where that shuttle went!

Eight Months Earlier . . .

*Mouse*

The only thing good about the memorial for Cap is that I’ll get to wear my dress gray woolies. I relish the thought of being warm. I don’t relish the thought of burying Cap. We aren’t really ‘burying’ him because there was no body recovered to put in cold storage to be returned to Earth for soil burial. Cap had chosen not to be buried in space. Without his body, though, it doesn’t really feel like he’s gone.

T.M. has already prepared the message to be relayed to Cap’s wife about his death and informed her no body would be forthcoming. Therefore, she could have a memorial at any time without awaiting our return next year.

I’m glad it was T.M. who had the responsibility for the message because I wasn’t sure I would be able to hide the fact that I felt there was something suspicious about Cap’s death. Even though four of the shuttle crew corroborated his story, it seemed too clean, too exact. The other four on the field team weren’t actual witnesses. They were unable to verify or add any information other than the group came back with Cap’s bloody pack, but without Cap.

I knew there was something wrong between T.M. and Cap, but Cap would never tell me what. It had to have been something T.M. did that was put in the classified portion of his record, which could only be accessed by his current Captain. Or, it could’ve been some incident shortly after arriving on Aurorae. It had to be one or the other because Cap seemed so excited that he was able to choose T.M. as his XO. I even looked through the logs to see if I could figure out why Cap mistrusted him and wanted to transfer him. But nothing popped out. There was no incident that screamed, ‘T.M. is incompetent’. In fact, he carried more than his share.

T.M. seems to be a good officer, though I don’t know about Command because Cap said he was taking care of that. I know he wasn’t taking care of all of it, because Cap is—was—hetero. I don’t know what T.M. is because he never fraternized with any crew in that way and never approached me. But I did catch him looking at me at times. I could’ve offered, but Cap dissuaded me. I guess with Cap gone I’ll find out, now that T.M. and I are the only Command on board and we’ll have to meet each other’s Command needs. I’ll do my duty, but if I find out T.M. killed Cap, or let him die when he could’ve prevented it, well, I’ll cross that bridge when I have evidence.

The crew will already be gathering in the rec room for the memorial. I’ll have to be there precisely on time. My arrival will indicate to the crew that they need to settle in, that T.M. will be there in thirty seconds and the memorial will begin.

I look in the mirror to check that my strawberry blonde hair is pinned up away from my collar and that my uniform is clean and crisp. The gray color of it makes my skin look more orange than it is, but it’s still close enough to human color that I don’t need to cover it. Amber eyes look back at me sadly as I prepare to walk out the door. I feel lost.

Even though the crew may expect it, I don’t think I’ll speak during the service.

*Ship Logs*

The memorial service for Captain Luke Sherrard would begin at 1300 hours in the rec room. The announcement was made and the rec room was set up in A-formation, which meant all seats were faced forward toward the stage area. The crew began arriving at 1230 hours and were milling about, talking quietly about ‘the deceased’.

Most of the conversations were quiet and respectful, however, one began drawing attention with accusatory overtones. It had not yet drawn the attention of everyone in the room, just those nearest, when the OPS officer, Lieutenant Mowsra Mouse Sriza entered. At her entry, a murmur shivered around the room and the crew became quiet and took their seats.

Moments later, acting captain Lieutenant Commander Tomas T.M. Muscovich entered. He made an imposing sight in his dress grays. He was tall and lean, and walked with a surety of purpose. His dark hair and eyes accented his uniform. When he looked at you, you either felt safe from all danger or you wanted to run for your life.

His footfalls were the only sound in the room as he approached the podium. Just before reaching it, he glanced at Mouse and raised an eyebrow, inquiring if she was going to take part in the eulogy. She shook her head very slightly, letting him know he would not need to introduce her to speak. He stepped behind the podium.

"In this time of sorrow, we gather to pay our respects to the late Captain Luke Sherrard. He led the Aurorae well. He never put anyone at risk if he wasn’t willing to be there himself. He brought this crew together as a family. In that regard, we’ve lost a father as well.

"Many of us have lost family and friends to the war. But he gave us a new family and wouldn’t want us to lose that just because he’s no longer with us. Let us not dishonor him by returning to being just a crew on a ship doing their duty in the Fringe.

"When Cap brought me aboard, I’d spent a year as XO on the Antilles. The Antilles was a miner and the competition was fierce. I expected the same for the scientific discoveries available on the Aurorae. Instead, I found a family. I now find myself the acting head of that family. I hope I can do justice to Cap’s memory by keeping together the family that he created.

"Cap and I met at the Academy. I was just arriving and he was in his final year. We only met a few times, but he made a great impact on me. We got to know each other better here on the Aurorae. I can’t thank him enough for choosing to bring me into the fold. I’ll take the lessons he taught me and use them to the best of my ability. Hopefully, each of us has learned much from him and those lessons will help us in the future, no matter where that future may take us.

"Cap did not have a spiritual affiliation, but that doesn’t mean we won’t meet him again. He’s left us for an opportunity to live in what most of us would believe is a better place. I hope he finds it so.

"This is a time of remembrance. A time to remember how Cap touched our lives, how he strengthened us, how he consoled us, how much he gave of himself to us. As long as he remains in our memories, he will continue to live on.

"There are those who came of age, rate or rank while under his command and had to leave for war. There are those of us who will soon reach those levels and be called to leave. But he has given us something to hold on to when we go… the ability to care for each other, even when we know they’ll soon leave us or we’ll leave them. Some will go by choice, some by call, and some like Cap, will just vanish before our eyes. But he taught us something very special: care now, even though you know you or they will depart, and leave a better world behind.

The cooks have prepared a special buffet in memory of Cap for any and all who wish to gather and share their memories of Cap. Thank you all for coming.

*T.M.*

I wasn’t looking forward to Cap’s memorial. I wasn’t pleased with having to give a glowing eulogy when I knew what really happened. I was the only one who remembered. I had to protect the intelligent species on that planet without exposing them. That was my priority, not keeping the promise I made to Cap, though I am loathe to break a promise. In fact, I am coming to realize that keeping my promise to Cap is going to make life difficult. Computer, transfer previous musing to private logs. Restart personal log.

The eulogy for Cap was short. I remained by the collage which some of the crew had made for him so they knew they weren’t being rushed off for a bite and then back to work. I was going to announce the day off for everyone at the reception. After about two minutes at the collage, I went to the reception. I only stayed there about ten minutes and then made as though I was off to mourn on my own.

I needed to log the planet and the system itself, as low-yield and classify the material we procured from there. The analysis the scientists have done will be catalogued and sealed. This planet will be considered highly dangerous/low benefit. That should get it placed on the ‘last resort’ list. When I’d completed my recommendations for the system and set it aside to add the completed analysis and seal it, I pulled the crew records.

I’d already acquainted myself with their records when I came on board, but there were always parts of them sealed for the ‘captain’s eyes only’. Those were the parts I now needed to know. I already knew who was human and who wasn’t. But, sometimes a crewman is reprimanded and then they show they’ve learned from the incident. The superior officer may not have wanted it held against them in the general populace and so had it sealed. But, it’s always good to know if there may be a problem at some later time. Sometimes a crewman will take a classified course through the academy or an off-world course which isn’t always registered. I’d taken three of the classified courses myself. A captain needs to know the abilities, capabilities, strengths and weaknesses of his crew.

The most shocking thing I found in the perusal of the records was that Mouse was not human. She was Katarhn, a feline race. Now I know why Cap was obsessed with her… her species is extremely sensual. She looks nothing like a Katarhn though, except her ears. Katarhn have short dense hair all over their bodies and tails. The females have four breasts. The hair on their head almost never exceeds shoulder length.

Mouse looked human. She wasn’t furry, didn’t have a tail, had hair halfway to her, er, hips, and only two breasts. Knowing now that she’s Katarhn, I can see a bit of cat in her nose, but she had to have had it done as well. She must’ve been through extensive surgery and electrolysis before enrolling in Academy. I’ll have to ask her why she didn’t have her ears bobbed.

After reviewing the records I have great confidence in the crew. They’re a good crew and I’ll be sorry to see any of them be called to the warships.

I now have to oversee preparations for the void jump. The jump wouldn’t be our longest, but would be a good size. I estimate about two and a half weeks.

*Mouse*

With the new star system seventeen days away, we had time on our hands. The only ones who may have to work during the jump were Command, Navcons, Medical, Maintenance and Security. Command if any decisions had to be made, to oversee continuing eds and possible discipline; Navcons if anything appeared on scope that wasn’t detected at initial jump; Maintenance for upkeep or upgrades and food prep; Meds if people drank to much or injured themselves in some other way; and Security if we suddenly met another ship in space (highly unlikely) or if a fight started (more likely).

Maintenance didn’t have any repairs to make since the last system was calm and uncomplicated, other than losing Cap (which was another reason I was suspicious). So, even with the upgrades we’d received and regular maintenance, they’d have plenty of time on their hands since T.M. wasn’t requiring the normal half-and-half jump. On a half-and-half, half the crew would sleep half the time and the other half the second half of the jump.

Some of the crew elected to sleep the time away in the sleep chambers even without orders. The majority of the crew, though, was in low spirits and needed some entertainment to boost morale. That fell into my purview as OPS officer. The first thing I did was make the bar available every day.

A Springer may be small, but we make great use of the space we have. For the first few days most of the humans gathered in the bar which doubles as a mess hall during the day. For the first couple of those days, no one bothered using the dance floor choosing instead to drink and reminisce. I didn’t join them at that time because I don’t digest fermented liquid vegetation well. I have to keep even fresh vegetation intake low.

Why humans loved to poison their bodies for fun still eluded me. No one ever did develop ‘synthohol’ like in the old science fiction stories and shows. Nobody saw the need to invent something that no one wanted. When humans drank, they notoriously wanted to get drunk and enjoy it without thinking about how they could just not be drunk. Corporate and the Council thought it was a good idea and wanted it, but since nobody was interested in drinking it, no one invented it.

So alcohol still remains a game of chance for humans. Will this type or that type of alcohol get them drunk or not? Will it land them in Medical or not? Will it land them in the brig or not? Will it help them get a bed partner or not? Will it kill the pain they’re feeling… or not?

As morale lifted and people started employing the floor, I joined in. I loved that part of the Bar. The low lights, the strobe lights, and the gyrating bodies were as intoxicating for me as alcohol was for humans. As a Katarhn I love the activity and boisterous play of dancing. Dancing in zero-grav in magnetic boots is somewhat difficult, but after years of doing it, it gets easier. It was a bit loud for my ears, but I used noise muffs, very discreet yet effective. I still had to maintain human appearance.

We didn’t have any species aboard that disdained the dance floor, but a few humans were notably not present. T.M. was one. But he’s the Captain now and has to maintain a certain decorum. He did make a few appearances sitting at the bar itself. I’d have to remember to look in to those who made no entrance into the bar at all during our void jump. It may be that they just preferred to grieve another way. But it also may not. Even if they were harboring anger as I was, I had to show support for T.M. and convince them as well. A divided crew was a vulnerable crew.

We also decided to put on a comedy in our rec hall. The rec hall was used for a variety of different activities like sports games, plays, movies, religious meetings, group exercise and creative, hands-on arts. We decided to put on one of our favorites among the crew. It was an old show from the early 22nd century called Tyler’s Ransom that we messed up as much as the characters themselves did. Actually, the actors in the show did an excellent job of remembering where to screw up, whereas we just screwed up. It was never the same twice, which is why we chose it so often.

We nearly had to choose something else because almost all the crew wanted to be in the audience and watch the mishaps instead of play them out. But we finally cast Denny, Dell, Nikki, Casey and I. I got roped into playing the neighbor which was fine by me since I didn’t want to sit in the audience and pretend to laugh. I didn’t think I was quite up to that yet. I did modify the outfit a bit so I wasn’t quite as bare as the part usually required.

Casey played the sister because she couldn’t bring herself to wear the skimpy outfit I had to wear and she was too shy to kiss the male cast members. I thought Casey was very pretty, but she never believed me. She thought she was short and frumpy. She was short, but she had the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. Nikki, on the other hand, was fairly plain but played up all her good points and flirted unceasingly with anything that moved. She had no problem taking on the part that had her kissing the men in the cast.

The cast decided not to rehearse too much so that we’d really mess it up. (Though Nikki did insist she had to thoroughly rehearse the kisses.) We only took three days to prepare. We had the crew roaring except when Dell fell off the balcony and broke his leg and had to be carried to Medical. Everyone agreed that, if it weren’t for Dell’s pain, they would’ve found that hysterical as well. (It was funny because it’s really hard to break your leg in zero-grav.) We grabbed Alf out of the audience to take his place since he’d played it before.

We had the crew laughing so hard I thought they might wake the sleepers. Seeing the crew in such high spirits did a great deal to lift mine. But I was still suspicious of T.M.’s account of Cap’s death.

*T.M.*

The arboretum saw more activity than usual. I know. I spent a lot of time there. The plants, trees, pond and winding streams were soothing and I had a lot to think about. That planet. Cap’s decision. My decision. How I could get around my promise. Since there are still two Command on board I can take Captaincy. But at what price? I think Mouse believes I killed Cap. She can sense my duplicity. Katarhn can smell emotions. I didn’t know that at the time when I gave her the news. She must have smelled it on me. Cap would have known that. Of course he had known… and known that it would put another obstacle between Mouse and me. But I still don’t regret what I did to him, even though he tried to make my life hell for it.

We’re still twelve days out from the new system. I could drop the ship in Mouse’s hands and sleep it off. But it wouldn’t really be ethical or clear my mind. I need to stay awake and sort through the situation Cap dropped into my hands. I thought the arboretum would be the place to find peace but apparently a large portion of the crew felt the same. I decided to try a different part of the ship.

I have appearances to uphold now so I dropped in at the bar for a few minutes. Mouse was there, dancing. I watched her for awhile. I knew she hurt from Cap’s death. But she was putting the ship and the crew first and showing that it would be alright.

I know she still suspects me. I know she’s still angry. I still have the bruise where she hit me in the chest when I told her. Damn, she can hit hard. But now I know why. Katarhn are about twice as strong as they look. She must’ve trained hard to fit into human society and norms so seamlessly that no one suspected her of being another species.

Since the arboretum didn’t help as much as I hoped, and the bar had Mouse wiggling in it, I tried the weight room. The only crew who were taking advantage of it were security. Switch was there. He’s an Augie. His parents went through a lot of red tape and money to get him genetically altered. He’ll have to go through red tape as well if he wants children. Genetically altered people are carefully monitored so a super human strain doesn’t develop and wipe out the non-altered people. I don’t know if I’d want that for my children, if I ever have any.

But, seeing him reminds me of her. She spars with him all the time. He’s super strong, but she’s super quick, as well as astonishingly strong for her size. I gave up looking for places without her and went to the sim room. I can’t avoid her so I may as well try to figure out how to sway her back to my side.

The computer will only allow each crew member three hours at a time in sim. At three hours it shuts you out and won’t let you back in for six more hours without two Command codes. This provision was put in every sim unit because studies found that people would stay in them until they starved to death.

I used my first three hours to program what I wanted. It should’ve only taken two due to the obstacles in place when simming a live person without them involved. But Mouse had added quite a few extra obstacles for anyone trying to sim her so it took more time.

I only had time for one run through after I got it programmed. I’ll admit the outfit I chose for her was inspired by some of my fantasies about her and was very distracting, but she was a distraction, even in her uniform. It just served to put added pressure on me… pressure I’d have face to face with her anyway. Without the added pressure it would’ve been just another sim… and it wouldn’t stress me. The sim responded as I hoped and I was satisfied.

Then I went out to start doing what the crew saw as ‘captain’ stuff. I had to get the crew used to me being the new captain before we got to the new system.

As I meandered the halls, I thought about who I was going to put in OPS. Non-Command in a command position could be slept with on a regular basis so choosing a woman might not sit too well with Mouse. But, they couldn’t be confided in. (Whereas the regular crew couldn’t be confided in and only slept with on a non-regular basis.) Mouse would still have to be my confidant. This was drilled into us during Command Test so we’d instill confidence in the crew and not drive a wedge between any.

Those who’ve gone through Command Test have the highest responsibilities and have to maintain a certain level of confidence for their crew. If they expressed their second thoughts, doubts, or fears to the crew, the crew wouldn’t be as confident in their leader and it could cost lives or even the ship. It was the same with sexual partners. If a leader chose a single crewmember for attention, others may become jealous and cause problems. So, even the smallest crews on ships, like miners with little crew but lots of cargo space, had at least two Command aboard.

A male choice would make the point moot. But if I chose a female, which was most likely since the most qualified for the position was a female, Mouse would suspect I was afraid of pillow talk with her. I know she wouldn’t show it to the crew or antagonize me to the point I couldn’t do my job and therefore jeopardize the ship and crew. But I wanted her on my side, with me, in all ways. I had since I first laid eyes on her.

The crew was putting on a play. Attending was something a captain would do to promote cohesion in the crew, so I went. It was Tyler’s Ransom . . . one the crew had done often enough that it only took a few days prep time to be ready to perform. The crew could’ve chosen to watch a comedy from our store of a few million movies, but we’re more of a ‘hands on’ crew.

Someone came across this show a few years back and the crew liked it so much they learned it and put it on as a play. They do that with a lot of their favorites. It brings the story closer to home.

When Mouse came on board, the old ‘Star Trek’ shows became popular as plays because of her ears. Her ears were one of the few things she didn’t have altered surgically. She told people she liked ‘Star Trek’ and liked the Vulcan ears. She didn’t actually ever say she had them done or that she even wanted Vulcan ears (she preferred evasion to lies), but people assumed it. So, ‘Star Trek’ became part of the play list with her as whichever Vulcan character, or Romulan, that was in it.

The play started off a little slow until Casey made the first blunder and looked so disappointed that we had to chuckle. The crew places bets on who’ll be the first to make a unscripted mistake. She must not’ve bet on herself. But then the first story blunder came so close behind it that Casey forgot how close to tears she was and the story picked up and fell apart quickly thereafter.

By the time it was finished we were all laughing so hard there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. I laughed along with them but my mirth was somewhat tempered by the raging hard on I got watching Mouse in that skimpy, sexy outfit. I headed for the sim units.

*Mouse*

The after-play party was still going on when I took my leave. The death of Cap, the pretense that I didn’t suspect T.M. of anything, keeping up the appearance that it’d all be okay, and just missing Cap was taking its toll on me. I went to my quarters for some quiet.

The corridors were empty. I thought about how nice it would be if I could stay up on a long void jump, like we’d have on our return to Earth, and just walk around the empty ship. Of course, that wouldn’t happen. The ship wouldn’t allow it. That, and life support would be turned off. It’d get awfully cold.

I walked into my quarters, hoping that I could get a few hours just to sit and think about Cap. I noticed a yellow light blinking on my computer screen. That meant one thing. The one thing I had programmed that yellow light to do… notify me when someone was simming me. It happened once in awhile.

It was unethical to sim someone without their permission and therefore was a difficult thing to do, but it still happens. It’s difficult to do since there are obstacles set up to dissuade people from simming other live people. But still, sometimes some of the crew who had the computer skills or just sheer determination simmed me. I could charge them and send them back to Earth, but from there they’d most likely be sent to the warships. I didn’t think someone should be sent to war just because they found me attractive and lost a bet with temptation. I did check to see who was simming me when it happened so I wouldn’t inadvertently encourage them in any way.

I figured the skimpy outfit I wore for the play, even though it wasn’t as skimpy as the one in the show, was enough to stoke a few libidos on the ship. I might as well check on it before I settled in. When I saw who it was, I saw red. I threw on my sim suit and headed for the sim room.

CHAPTER 2

*Mouse*

When I got to the sim room, I found an empty unit and plugged myself in. I interfaced with the computer to enter the program I was looking for and requested to be placed in it just out of eye’s view. When I saw the program coalesce around me, I stepped out into T.M.’s view.

I—the sim me—was standing between me and him. My back, or—the other me’s back, was to me. I thought the outfit made my butt look great. You don’t usually get to see yourself from the back like others do. I mean,