Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 TITLE: Triumph's Odyssey
PART: Chapter 1 - Mission Launch
AUTHOR: Big Al
KEYWORDS: Mf ScFi alien piv impreg oral fellatio size 1st f1st cons
SUMMARY: Humanity's flagship launches into space, commanded by an
incredibly masculine captain whom no woman, or girl, can resist, and
certainly not the empathic alien ship counselor.  Written for Haqqenstache
on Hentai Foundry.
   **********
   Shuttles and drones buzzed like metallic gnats around the massive vessel
anchored to the spacedock.  Below, the lush greens and blues of the Earth
stood out against the starry backdrop of space, the planet itself haloed in
flame by the sun currently on the other side of the world.
   The anchored spaceship was a sleek, multi-pronged vessel nearly a mile
in length.  Its hull was painted in silver and white, and the symbol of the
Pan-Galactic Charter - a stylized representation of a spiral galaxy with
the Earth in its center - was emblazoned clearly on its flank.  Next to the
insignia, the ship's designation flowed in large blocky letters of gold
rimmed with black.  PGCS Triumph A-001.
   The Triumph was a newly constructed ship, the first and currently only
one of its kind.  It doubled as an exploration and science vessel, but was
as well outfitted for combat as one of the Haakti's gigantic dreadnoughts.
Its bridge crew and important stations had been handpicked by the captain
himself, and all general crew applicants had been arduously tested and
thoroughly screened by zero-tolerance sergeants and lieutenants from the
Joint Worlds Military Academy at Fort Mars on that same
partially-terraformed planet.
   The crew members were still shuttling onto the vessel, bringing what
possessions they were allowed and bidding farewell to friends and loved
ones.  The chief engineer, a robust human male by the name of Matchstick
Marco, had been awake for 72 hours straight, running constant checks on the
untried ship's systems.  Every test had been passed with flying colors,
even in the uncompromising engineer's eyes.  The Triumph was purring like
an Alfarhan leo-avian.
   Not one, not two, nor even three, but FOUR power cores rested in the
heart of the ship, all constructed of expensive hydroconductive
electrolaminate and fueled by the impossibly rare - and potent - element
heliotrinium which was only found in the hearts of certain stars.  The hull
was coated with the difficult-to-produce electrolyte coating that gave it
reflectiveness against energy and shock absorption against physical
impacts. Weapons studded the gleaming hull, massive power-draining systems
that drank the heliotrinium fuel like water, and the shield generators were
similarly ravenous.
   But the Triumph was able to handle the power drain for the same reason
it carried literally limitless supplies, the same reason for which humanity
had catapulted to prominence among the stars.  Just over 4 terran decades
ago, a group of Earth's scientist known as the Brain Trust had invented the
first working piece of nanoreplication technology.
   Nanoreplication - or "repping" as it was commonly referred to -
transformed human society overnight.  Food and resource shortages became a
thing of the past.  Wars fought and crimes committed over resources
dissipated, and global tensions melted away.  A decentralized Global
Confederation was formed, and humanity was able to turn itself to better
pursuits.  Defoliated areas were reforested, medicine advanced by leaps and
bounds, and the first manned mission to Mars was launched.
   Martian terraforming began immediately, the ability to rep making such
large-scale technology easy if not instantaneous.  Human spacecraft
wandered farther, until an ancient extraterrestrial beacon was found in
orbit around Pluto.  Astronautical interaction with it had activated the
beacon, and an alien spaceship soon arrived, signaled after thousands of
years of waiting for humanity to take its first steps out into the stars.
   These aliens from the planet Alfarha were an old and advanced race. 
They aged slowly and lived hundreds of years, and had achieved many
technological wonders.  They freely shared their hyperdrive technology with
humanity, and in return humanity shared their nanoreplication science.  It
was a mutually agreeable arrangement, despite the friction occurring
between the young race of humanity and their oft-condescending Alfarin
elders.
   The next species that humanity encountered was not as well disposed to
them.  The scheming, warlike Haakti had instantly coveted the
nanoreplication technology, and sought to obtain it by force, beginning
humanity's first interstellar war.  Earth had the advantage of unlimited
resources, but the Haakti were born masters of battle.  Their immense
dreadnoughts had the firepower to level cities from orbit or blast
humanity's flimsy space cruisers out of the sky.
   The Brain Trust - the same enclave of scientists that had originally
developed nanoreplication - had created the supersoldier program to combat
the Haakti, and the beginning - and pinnacle - of that project had almost
singlehandedly won the war and was now first captain of the Triumph.
   That heroic captain, Garrett Harcrow, was still down on Earthdock,
enduring the speeches and well-wishes of politicians and media, while the
bridge crew gathered on the bridge of the Triumph to await him.  Qihliani
sat calmly on a hovering cushion, back against the wall as she surveyed her
fellow officers.  The antennae on her forehead wriggled back and forth very
slightly, picking up the scents and pheromones that most races never even
registered, but which shone as beacons to her people.
   Due to their highly sensitive antennae, the Yahsolar species were strong
empaths.  The race as a whole was artistic and peaceful; when the emotions
of those around you filled your senses constantly, the last thing you
wanted to pick up from them was shared feelings of pain and discontentment.
There were aberrations of course, but the Yahsolar were not very warlike,
instead focusing on healing sciences and producing shrewd negotiators who
could almost literally read other diplomats like a book.
   Despite her youth, Qihliani had been selected as Triumph's ship
counselor.  In addition to being one of the most sensitive empaths the
Yahsolar had ever produced, she had performed in the highest rank of
emotional resiliency tests to which Yahsolar diplomats were subjected.  As
the Triumph was going to be venturing into new and potentially hazardous
territory, its empathic counselor had to be prepared for the onslaught of
emotions and pheromones she would face.  Her resiliency had amazed her
instructors; typically those who scored highest on those evaluations were
naturally the least sensitive empaths.
   And here she was, silently regarding the other bridge crew, observing
their actions, words, and emotions and filing them away in her young mind.
She was fascinated by Captain Harcraw's record and exploits, and could not
wait to scent his pheromones in person - her antennae twitched at the
thought - but for now she had to content herself with the bridge officers.
   Commander Liosara, the first officer, was standing at rigid attention,
very prim and proper.  As an Alfarin, she possessed only a single name,
similarly to the Yahsolar, but where the empathic race sported antennae and
monocolored eyes, the Alfarin were mostly human looking.  Their faces were
generally more delicate, their physique slighter, and their eyes slanted,
but their most striking feature were the ears that tapered to a fine point.
   Although some irreverent humans derisively referred to the Alfarin as
"elfies" or "fairies", they were an ancient and noble race, and often proud
and condescending, convinced of their own innate superiority.  Liosara was
no exception in that regard, Qihliani could tell.  At only a half century
in age, the lovely first officer was still a child by Alfarin standards -
but she was a genius even among the brilliant people of Alfarha, and had
proved herself in the interstellar war some decades back despite her youth.
   Qihliani, despite knowing herself to be a beauty - with her smooth rosy
skin, sensuously curved antennae, and large eyes of pure lavender - felt
homely next to Liosara.  The Alfarin girl was short, but her long black
hair went to her knees in a waterfall of silk.  She was on-duty, so it was
in a braid, but even the braid was plaited with breathtaking loveliness,
flowers (of some type with which Qihliani was unfamiliar) woven into the
strands.  Her eyes were clear sparkling blue, but they held a hard
determined edge to them.
   The girl seemed eager to prove herself, Qihliani reflected.  Perhaps to
prove that Alfarin were still superior to humans, despite humanity being
the clear rulers of the Pan-Galactic Charter formed in the wake of the war?
Probably.
   On the other hand, the ship's physician seemed excited and nervous. 
Celiveia was a blue-skinned humanoid with no hair on her head, but small
headtails on the top and back that quivered with trepidation and
occasionally lay flat along the back of her head.  A Kossian, the doctor
had the unusually large breasts common to her species, which indicated that
she had reached the age of majority.  Among Kossians, adulthood was
determined by the ability to bear or sire offspring, regardless of how many
years the person had been alive.  Dr.  Celiveia seemed to have flowered
very young indeed.
   Although the empath wasn't privy to her thoughts, the doctor was indeed
nervous, constantly playing with the hem of her white physician's tunic. 
Her rank was indicated by a row of three red crosses on her left breast - a
subtle sign of humanity's influence over all things in the Pan-Galactic
Charter - but she felt somewhat self-conscious.  She was well versed in
xenobiology of course, and indeed picked up new species' inner workings
fairly quickly.  For instance, she could tell by the exact shape and length
of the counselor's antennae that the Yahsolar was a powerful empath, but
very likely barren; or that Commander Liosara was doubtlessly a vegetarian,
given that her pale Alfarin skin had a slightly pearlescent cast to it.
   But what Celiveia lacked was any iota of knowledge on human biology. 
Humanity's supersoldier program had unlocked incredible advances in the
uses of repping on homo sapiens genetic architecture, and today most humans
in positions of authority or in the military had self-replicating binomes
in their blood, quickly repairing damage except the most grievous of
injuries; and an easily applied dermpatch of released medinanites could fix
that.
   Human soldiers had almost zero need for a doctor, but the same could not
be said for the other species in the Charter.  Humans had controlled
reptech for the longest of course, and so had achieved the most with it in
regards to their own biology; other races hadn't caught up, and might not
be likely to anytime soon, given how tightly the human-controlled
government gripped the reins of their science.
   The doctor was paying rapt attention to the humans she encountered, no
matter how passingly.  She noted every detail she could.  The bridge's
navigations officer seemed old from what she could tell; but probably she
was wrong, since he had not been declared unfit for duty or else he
wouldn't be on the Triumph.  The young human ensign, Tatiana, was very
obviously quite young.  She had boobs, as did most humanoid species in the
Charter, but hers were quite small.  Given her brief glances at other human
women in the general crew, Celiveia assumed that Tatiana had just entered
her race's pubescent phase.
   But the human that Dr.  Celiveia was most interested in was Captain
Garrett Harcrow himself.  Considered to be the prime example of his race,
he had also been involved in the Charter's supersoldier program from the
ground up.  His knowledge of human genetics and nanogineering enhancements
was second to none, and had been developed, and used, in that project.  His
own genes had been selected as the base stock for the other supersoldiers,
and he had been the template for all the bioreplicatory modifications, the
designs of nearly all of which he had been involved in.
   In contrast, the Haakti tactics officer's physiology was one that Dr. 
Celiveia was very familiar with.  Being so warlike, members of that species
were very prone to injury, and even in peacetime were constantly
undertaking dangerous recreations such as unarmored knife fights.  This
particular Haakti herself, from what Celiveia remembered from her reading
of the tactics officer's file, was a princess of one of that race's royal
clans.  The Kossian wondered what she was thinking, being assigned to serve
on a ship of the race that had subjugated her own.
   Orulolia, the princess in question, was keeping her expression gravely
neutral, but inside she was quivering with excitement.  Despite her youth,
every Haakti knew the story of their conquest.  It wasn't humanity that had
conquered them, in their eyes; it was Garrett Harcrow.  The first, and
greatest, human supersoldier had first come to prominence in the
interstellar war when he had held the chokepoint system of Thermopylae V
against a gauntlet of Haakti vessels with only a few small Terran space
skiffs.  He'd not only held the system, he won the battle, with a
combination of grit, tactics, and determination, and finally ending the
fight by singlehandedly boarding and capturing one of the Haakti's massive
dreadnoughts, the Karstan Annihilator.
   Then, later in the war, he had proceeded to do it twice more, all in the
midst of turning hopeless routs for the humans into smashing victories. 
Finally, Haakti intelligence had discovered that Harcrow was planning to
lead an assault on Haaktos Prime to end the war in a single blow.  Later,
it was revealed that Harcrow had deliberately leaked that information,
wanting all of the Haakti defenses to be buffed and ready so that his
victory over them would be that much more impressive to the race that was
impressed by deeds more than anything else.
   Garrett Harcrow had warped into the Haaktos system at the head of a
fleet of Terran cruisers, along with all three of the dreadnoughts he'd
captured.  The Haakti had sprung their trap, bringing no less than a dozen
dreadnoughts and a vast fleet out of hiding behind moons and asteroid
fields to surround the human fleet.
   Harcrow's response was to taser tag the twelve dreadnoughts...  and
instants later, immense heliotrinium warheads - bombs the size of cities,
with a crude hyperdrive attached - had warped insystem to smash
instantaneously into all twelve dreadnoughts at their point of arrival.  It
was the sort of strategy no one but humanity, with their reptech, could
conceive; heliotrinium was far too rare naturally to create so many bombs
so big.
   At that point, a secondary human fleet warped insystem, behind the
Haakti ambush fleet, but to add insult to injury, Harcrow had ordered them
to stand off, merely preventing the Haakti ships from escaping, whilst his
primary assault force devastated the planetary defenses.  Haaktos Prime was
overwhelmed within hours, but instead of ordering a final, scouring
bombardment upon the royal city with more heliotrinium bombs (which had
arrived via warpdrive to orbit ominously around Haaktos Prime), Harcrow had
shuttled down in a one-man flitter, broadcasting an honor challenge to the
Haakti All-Clans King, Orulolia's grandfather.
   The clan council was largely impressed, first by Harcrow's knowledge of
a Haakti custom, and second by the fact that he deemed the Haakti worthy of
an honor duel rather than simply bombing them from existence.  The King,
however, was not so impressed.  He saw Harcrow's offer as a sign of
weakness, and he determined to humble the human supersoldier in the dueling
ring.
   The King had never once lost an honor duel, and he had fought hundreds
if not thousands in his life.  In fact, he was nicknamed "the Unscarred"
due to the fact that he'd never been injured in such a duel, such was his
skill.
   Garrett Harcrow broke all four of his limbs inside of a minute.  The
King, bound by honor, submitted both his life and the Haaktos clans to the
human.  But Harcrow surprised the Haakti again.  He extended mercy to the
King, and unveiled his plan of a Pan-Galactic Charter, in which humanity
would share their reptech with other Charter members, who would also share
their sciences.
   The King was now fully convinced of Harcrow's weakness, and spat that he
would never submit his people to a human tyranny.  Harcrow disproved the
King's opinion by instantly snatching the Haakti warrior's still beating
heart from his chest, and the King realized his mistake in the final
moments of his life.
   Harcrow then offered an honor challenge to the King's heir, Orulolia's
mother, who wisely submitted to the supersoldier's offer.  With Haakti's
war technology and intelligence network, humanity had quickly subjugated
the other races that had joined the interstellar war, and the Pan-Galactic
Charter had been formed.
   Garrett Harcrow had thus demonstrated unmatched guile, skill, and
strength, and all of those things were what the Haakti respected above all.
And it was clear that his abilities weren't artificial byproducts of the
supersoldier system; his biomods had only enhanced what was already there.
He had spent his entire youth putting himself through grueling training in
skills martial and mental, determined to excel beyond all measure of the
word.  And he had succeeded.  There was a reason he had been brought in as
the template for the supersoldier genome.
   Young Orulolia, like so many teenage Haakti, was smitten by the mere
legend of the prime supersoldier.  She was only the youngest daughter of
the Haakti royal clan family, so she had worked hard to overcome the
limitations of her rank in a primogenital system; her skills had landed her
here, a princess turned tactics officer on the bridge of the vessel of
Garrett Harcrow himself!
   He could have had the Charter Chancellory, Orulolia knew.  Why he hadn't
wanted it was beyond her; any Haakti leapt at the chance for power.  But
humanity was so enraptured with Harcrow nonetheless that the Charter
Council had created an all-new rank of authority just for the captain:
Alpha Privilege.  Only Harcrow possessed this supremely elite rank, and
whenever he invoked it, he was entitled to be obeyed without question.
   The whole time the other bridge officers were reflecting, Ensign Tatiana
was bubbling over with excitement.  She'd been enthusiastically recounting
the legends surrounding Captain Harcrow, and now added to that, "You know,
most people don't know this, but Captain Harcrow was brought to the Brain
Trust when he was just a teenager!  Back before they even conceived of
repping, when they were merely working on the bio-intellectual enhancements
that later led to the conception and development of reptech, right?  The
captain intuitively linked two critical equations together, leading to the
ultimate success of the project!"
   First Officer Liosara finally saw fit to interject, "Don't be naive. 
Not every folk tale about him can be true; one person can't possibly be
responsible for all of his race's triumphs."
   Tatiana's face fell, but princess Orulolia countered, "Just because a
single Alfarin couldn't do as much, doesn't mean a human couldn't." The
Alfarin first officer's lips pursed, but the Haakti tactics officer winked
at the ensign, who then giggled and immediately blushed, trying to restore
her decorum.
   Qihliani, the empathic Yahsolar counselor, stood up abruptly.  "Captain
on deck," she announced.  The others looked oddly at her, wondering how she
could possibly know that, but Dr.  Celiveia knew well of the Yahsolar's
sensitivity to scents and stood at attention.  The lift door hissed open
with a nearly silent working of hydraulics, and Captain Garrett Harcrow
stepped onto the bridge of the Triumph for the first time.
   He was massive in stature, towering head and shoulders over the also
human male navigations officer, and even taller than the younger female
officers.  His hair was cropped in military fashion, and his eyes were dark
and piercing.  He was solid muscle, and his red, gold, and black captain's
uniform seemed to bulge with the rippling of his body despite being
tailor-made for his giant form.
   He was 60 years old, but didn't look a day over 30, thanks not only to
his own physical perfection but to his reptech biomods.  Theoretically, he
was immortal, though only time would prove that hypothesis.  Other
supersoldiers aged slowly, but they still aged; Garrett, though, had yet to
show any signs of aging whatsoever.
   A musk clung to him, an aura of sheer masculinity, and the prominent
bulge in his trousers did nothing to diminish that.  His presence swept
over all the females on the bridge, practically rocking them on their feet,
and it took them a moment to recover themselves and stand at attention -
save Liosara, who had been standing at attention the entire time for which
they'd been waiting.
   Captain Harcrow raised his hand in a return salute, and snapped it back
smartly, his movements echoed by the bridge crew.  "At ease," he nodded. 
His voice was deep and vast.  It sound like the grumbling of a great beast
reverberating through an ancient cavern, and vibrated through the girls'
bodies.
   Qihliani was completely overcome.  The captain's pheromones were heady
and intoxicating.  They set every nerve ending on her skin alight with
sensation, and tingles ran across her flesh.  The fact that every other
female officer there was giving off scents of lust and desire and arousal
only compounded matters, and the counselor's skin flushed a deeper rose as
her lavender eyes hued somewhat pinkish for a moment.
   Her antennae quivered as she tried to sort through the strong mix of
emotions and scents to focus on Harcrow's...  but she couldn't read him. 
She couldn't get any inkling whatsoever of what he was feeling; all she
could pick up was the air of utter maleness emanating from him, sending her
sexuality into overdrive.
   Garrett moved among the bridge crew, taking the time to converse with
each officer individually.  As was proper protocol, he greeted his first
officer first.  "Sym'en'nie'l v'os," he said to her, making a strange sign
with his hand.  "I'm extremely pleased to have you as my first officer,
Liosara."
   The Alfarin girl goggled.  Her pale skin had flushed with heat when he
entered the bridge and she became very aware of the womanly parts of her
girlish body.  Now he was greeting her with a perfectly enunciated greeting
of respect in her clan's dialect of Auld Alfarin; his deep baritone flowing
around the musical words thrummed through her and touched places inside her
she didn't know she had.  And his hand sign was one of Alfarha's fingertalk
languages, indicating respect, pleasure, and honor.
   She managed to make the hand sign back, and say, rather more huskily
than she meant to, "I am pleased to be here, Captain.  I hope you'll make
full use of my skills." The tips of her ears burned as she said that last;
she hadn't meant to say it like that!
   Garrett didn't seem to notice however.  He nodded and added, "I'm
extremely impressed by your record, Commander.  Your cracking of the
Jaarisk encryption is a thing of legend.  Using a Hirakki sequence spliced
with exponentially integrated Vrrban equations was truly inspired.  The
Joint Worlds Military Academy teaches that to their cryptologists now."
   Liosara's eyes boggled.  She hadn't expected the captain to have even
heard of a Hirakki sequence, much less to understand what it meant and
intelligently discuss it.  Despite herself, her estimation of the human
went up several notches.  She cleared her throat and managed to say, "Thank
you, Captain." He smiled at her - the expression sent shivers running up
her spine - and moved on to greet Counselor Qihliani.  Her young virginal
Alfarin body ached for him to remain with her, and was telling her that she
needed to be fertilized by him now, and it was all she could do to keep her
trembling legs in place.
   For her part, Qihliani was equally flustered, if not more so.  She still
couldn't read the captain.  It was as if her senses were rebounding back on
herself - all she was aware of were her own burgeoning desires along with
Garrett's musk heightening the slightest sensation of air upon her supple
skin.  As Harcrow greeted her, she barely remembered what she had been
planning to tell him, and managed to blurt it out.
   "Captain," she said, her voice cracking slightly, "a maiden voyage is a
good deal of pressure on even veteran crews, and even more so with a ship
of this nature, with members of different species working alongside each
other."
   "This is true," he said, favoring her with a smile.  "I'm confident in
the crew however, and I'm confident in your abilities, as well, Counselor."
   A slight chill ran through her as he grinned at her and stated his
confidence in her.  Her eyes blinked rapidly as she struggled not to sway,
half-drunken on the pheromones that were invading her every pore.  "Well,
the captain - that is, you - what I mean to say is that this is even more
pressure on you, so you should make use of me should you feel undue
stress." She blushed furiously as she realized how her statement could have
been interpreted, not knowing that she was echoing Liosara's earlier
reaction.
   "Thank you, Qihliani," he said mildly, sending electricity firing
through her as he addressed her so familiarly, "but that will probably be
unnecessary." It might have been, Qihliani reflected, given the tremendous
situations in which he had been involved before, but she had an inkling
that the Triumph's mission was going to herald even bigger things, and-
   But Harcrow was moving on to the other officers.  Qihliani held her
tongue.  She'd have to bring it up with him later.
   The captain greeted the young ensign last, as was proper protocol, and
smiled indulgently as she stammered and blushed and in general acted
without any sort of decorum despite her earnest efforts to be appropriate.
His personal introductions thus completed, he then went to the captain's
chair, but only stood beside it, not sitting down as he addressed everyone
on the bridge.
   "Everyone in this room has probably been told that they were
specifically handpicked by me for their station," he began without
preamble, meeting the eyes of each officer in turn.  "I want you all to
know that this is true.  I went through the records of all the top officers
and cadets in each Charter species' database.  We're still working on
compiling a complete military database at the Joint Worlds Academy," he
added with a wry smile.
   Continuing, Garrett said, "Some of you may believe that you were chosen
only because of your species or your rank" - his eyes flicked to Orulolia -
"but let me assure you that nothing is further from the truth.  You were
each chosen for your merit.  It is a happy political happenstance that such
meritorious recruitment resulted in a plethora of represented species here,
and bodes well for the Triumph's future.
   "You've all no doubt read our mission charter.  I'll spare you the
jargon and carefully chosen language, and speak plainly." He paused for a
moment, making sure everyone was paying attention, but he needn't have
bothered.  His audience was hanging on his every word; that was the sort of
presence the large captain had.  "The Triumph is the flagship of the
Pan-Galactic Charter.  We are first responders to crises; we are diplomatic
envoys; we are the first and last line of defense in war or battle; and we
are explorers and cataloguers, surveyors and scientists.
   "But most of all, we are the Pan-Galactic Charter in miniature.  The
Triumph's success will prove that disparate species can work together, in
peacetime and in crisis, by sharing burdens and joys, and not only
surviving but thriving." Garrett met their eyes one by one each more.  "I'm
counting on you to help me see that happen.  Clear?"
   There was a murmured assent of Aye aye, Captains, and Garrett smiled. 
"Good.  At your stations.  It's time to launch."
   The navigations officer started the countdown, and a mechanical female
voice began announcing the imminent departure.  Docking anchors and
airlocks began disengaging from the Triumph and retracting back into the
apertures of the spacedock.  Crew chiefs began reporting in to First
Officer Liosara, telling the commander of their subordinates' readiness and
placement.
   When the countdown reached T-minus 60 seconds, Garrett commed the
engineering section.  "Chief Marco, how are the power cores and
subsystems?"
   "Purring like a leo-avian, Cap'n," Matchstick Marco answered, delight
evident in his voice.
   Garrett grinned and asked Liosara, "Commander, crew readiness?"
   The Alfarin girl looked at him, putting a hand to her earpiece and
flicking a last switch on her panel to green.  "Crew members in place and
accounted for."
   Garrett nodded.  "Tactics?"
   "Systems are go here," Orulolia responded.  The question was a mere
formality in this case, as there was no combat they were deploying into,
but it was an important formality nonetheless.
   As the countdown reached T-minus 2 seconds, Garrett nodded to the pilot.
"Navigation...  launch."
   There was a slight hiss as the sublight drives engaged.  The aging
navigations officer was surprised at how efficient the steering was.  It
was like piloting an Alfarhan flitter with the engines of a Haakti corsair.
The engines were practically purring at his touch, and the Triumph glided
out of the spacedock into open void.  Cheers erupted all over the Earth as
the successful launch was broadcast, and on all the other core worlds of
the Pan-Galactic Charter as well, since the experimental quantum-link
instantaneous long-distance communications network was slaved to the
broadcast for today.
   Garrett flicked the overcomm, addressing the entire ship. 
"Gentlebeings," he said in a deep voice that reverberated through speakers
throughout the Triumph, "we have successfully launched the flagship of the
Pan-Galactic Charter.  Congratulations." He nodded at the pilot. 
"Navigation, give them a show."
   The pilot grinned and put Triumph through her paces, gliding for flybies
around the Earth before sailing out to Mars and flying around it.  Finally,
the Triumph angled out of the solar plane, and with a flash of light,
warped into hyperspeed.
   Comfortably in transit, Garrett stood out of the captain's chair.  "Well
done," he complimented the bridge crew.  "I'm going to review the crew. 
First officer, you have the bridge."
   He turned to go to the lift, but Qihliani caught up with him just before
he left.  "Captain Harcrow," she said, doing her best not to stammer as his
pheromones hit her full blast again.  "I have crew assessments on record,
but there is no assessment of you.  I need to touch base with you and
establish a file."
   Garrett gave her a mysterious smile that curled her toes and made her
antennae quiver.  "We'll talk later, Counselor." And out he went, leaving
Qihliani just as baffled as before.  She still couldn't pick up his
emotions, and all she could feel were her own lusts hurtling back at her,
magnified by his natural musk.  Her eyelids fluttered as she swayed very
slightly, the aftertaste of his pheromones strong on the tips of her
antennae.
   The intensity of her own lust astonished her.  An ache burned within her
for him to have his way with her, to stuff her full of his manhood and pump
hot viscous seed into her core, and - even though it was irrational, given
that she was barren - to feel his vigor quicken her womb.  She was more
determined than ever now to get a good discussion in with him.
   So it was that evening, the Yahsolar counselor signaled at the door to
the captain's offices.  The door hissed open in response, revealing Garrett
Harcrow sitting behind his desk, evidently in the middle of dictating a
captain's log.  "Pause log.  Good evening, Counselor," he said with a smile
that made her knees weak.  "Come on in."
   Qihliani did so, and the door slid shut behind her.  His musk blasted
her helpless antennae once again, and her eyelids fluttered as the orbs
behind them pinkened slightly.  She still could not get a read on him, but
her own body was telling her very clearly that she needed to be fucked like
an animal.  "Captain," she began insistently, keeping her voice steady with
an effort, "this is the maiden voyage of the biggest, most important, most
powerful spacefaring vessel ever built.  Be honest with me.  You have to be
under some stress.  I will do whatever is needed to help you with it."
   Garrett's lips quirked up into a grin, and he studied her for a moment.
Then he rose to his feet, his towering bulk rising like a giant before her
as he replied, "Well, I do need to...  let off a little steam." Qihliani's
eyes were drawn to his heavily tented trousers, barely hiding a fat log of
turgid meat that was throbbing visibly beneath the fabric.  Her mouth
watered, and a heat flared inside her core as moisture seeped from her
pussy beneath her uniform.
   "Captain..." she began hoarsely, but she could say no more.  She hurried
over to him, stumbling slightly in her eagerness and scrabbled at his
pants. Yes - this she could help with, and this she needed more than she
had ever needed anything!  Her fingers were clumsy with lust, so he thrust
his trousers down, treating the Yahsolar counselor to the massive sight of
his glorious masculinity.
   His cock was a thick, lurching beast, fat and meaty with deep purple
cockveins bulging as blood pulsed through them.  Sticky droplets of pre
flung themselves from the tip of his throbbing member, and Qihliani thought
her pussy would melt, it was so hot.  With a sweet virgin instinct, she
bent to press a tender kiss to that swollen, angry knob.  His taste was
musky and very male as his precum smeared on her plump lips as she favored
Garrett's cock with her first kiss.
   Garrett seized her head in a single broad palm and pulled her down as he
bucked his hips upward.  His dick forced its way between her bee-stung
lips, bulging out her cheeks with an obscene mass till his cockhead pumped
thick rivulets of precum directly down her throat.  The sensation,
unexpected and delicious as it was, sent tidal waves of ecstasy crashing
through the Yahsolar's young virginal body.  Her pussy exploded, her juices
staining the crotch of her uniform, and her entire body shook with the
force of her orgasm.  In the throes of her rapture, her head jerked
forward, and her throat opened like a hot wet flower around his cock,
swallowing him whole with a will.
   Her hands came up of their own accord, grasping the sweaty, leathery
flesh of his cumsacks, feeling them bloat beneath her palms with the
churning of his potent seed, and she moaned her orgasm lewdly around his
thick log plugging up her throat.  Her eyes - pure color, no separate
irises, whites, or pupils - went from lavender to a full, rosy pink with
the fierceness of her lust as she began suckling on him with the
earnestness of a horny virgin in heat.
   Garrett's pleasure strangled itself in his throat till he sounded like a
wild animal.  Her deft touch sent prickles of pleasure all along the flesh
of his obese balls, and her throat was a perfectly hot, tight, wet
fucktunnel clamped around his dick.  He thrust in further, in one long
steady pound, until his nuts plopped sweatily into her chin and his
cockhead popped out of her esophagus directly into her stomach.  Qihliani
was thrashing, completely spitted upon his massive skewer and juicing with
abandon.  So much cream flowed from her cunt that the crotch of her uniform
was soaked completely through and dripping onto the floor.
   Garrett gyrated his hips into her face with fast slapping motions as he
jackhammered his enormous cock into her throat like a cock sock made
specifically for him.  Her throat and torso deformed around the tremendous
bulge pistoning in and out of her throat, and her now-pink eyes glazed
over. Her antennae were trembling violently with the same spastic pleasure
that vibrated her throatcunt around his pumping piledriver.
   Qihliani's mind had gone blank, overwhelming pleasure driving all
thought from her, leaving her with only the sensation of his pheromones
intoxicating her thoroughly as he fucked her tight lil virgin throat raw.
She tried to plea for him to cum in her, but it came out as a garbled groan
of bestial ecstasy around his pulsing shaft as he jackhammered her face
with mad abandon.
   Garrett understood her desire from the milking clenches of her throat
around his cockmeat though, and with the primal roar of an alpha claiming
his mate, he granted her what she had always craved most but never realized
it - he detonated inside her throat, spewing fat ropes of slimy gunk
directly into her tummy.  The globs of jizz he squirted into her were so
thick that they pulsed along his shaft in visible bulges seen through the
distended outline in her throat and chest.
   Qihliani flopped about with the intensity of her rapture, her antennae
vibrating so quickly that they buzzed like a hummingbird's wings.  She was
trying to scream, Yes, yes, yes, yessss!  but her babbled words moaned
along her throat around his jizzing cum pump in an obscene chorus as she
hungrily guzzled down every viscous jet of his nearly boiling hot cockslop.
   Her belly began to pouf out with the sheer volume of spunk he was
pouring into her, but she still couldn't get enough, glucking greedily on
his spewing pipe as he blew load after load into her willing fucksleeve
hole.
   When the captain had finished using her throat as his personal
plaything, and her stomach was nice and swollen with his cum, he pulled out
with grunted groans, till his massive babymaker plopped wetly free.  His
fucktool was gleaming, slick with his cum and her drool, and Qihliani's
trapped breath exploded out of her with a wet, "GLUH!" of utter adoration.
"Captain," she managed to gasp out, her voice hoarse both with lust and
from having her virgin throat fucked raw, "I...  more!" She was unable to
express herself more coherently than that, panting for breath as her chest
heaved.
   Garrett smirked at her, aware of the drunken effect his attentions had
on women.  "Counselor," he said formally despite the heat in his voice,
sounding for all the world as though they had NOT just fucked in his
office, "I propose that we make these 'stress relief' sessions a regular
event."
   "YES!" Qihliani barked out instantly.  She was so mad with lust that she
didn't even blush at her enthusiasm.  She was ripping off her uniform, her
pussy on fire, and Garrett recognized the lust of a true bitch in heat.  He
casually tore her the drenched material of her uniform's crotch open,
baring her bald, quivering pussy to his view, and the Yahsolar sobbed with
desperate pleasure as her sensitive crack was exposed to air.
   Within moments, he was plowing her virgin womb, their hips slamming
together with ferocious slaps as he pounded her into the floor.  Her heels
drummed on his back as she jerked and thrashed with the intensity of her
rapture as he jackhammered his monster cock into her lush honeyed cunt with
relentless wet smacks.  Qihliani was heaving her young body up at him,
literally fucking herself with wanton abandon on his fuckpole.
   His pistoning rod was deforming and distending her womb with every
brutal slam through her cervix, and Qihliani writhed uncontrollably from
the euphoria of feeling her well-hung captain sculpt her pussy and womb
into a perfect cocksleeve just for him, made for no other purpose than to
get him off and suck up all his cum.
   His hands mauled her boobs through her uniform, squeezing and fondling
as ecstasy guttered in her throat.  Then great ropy spurts of his cum
blasted from his manhood deep inside her, directly into her womb.  Her
breath caught in her throat, then exploded out with a high wailing shriek
of utter obscene ecstasy.  She convulsed, juicing hard as his gigantic
babymaker kept mercilessly fucking her even while jizzing floods inside
her.
   Neither of them knew just yet, but at that moment, Garrett's potent seed
was doing the impossible and fertilizing the Yahsolar's barren womb, not
with just one egg, but multiple eggs, siring child after child after
half-breed girl-child on the climaxing fucktoy as her captain, her lover,
and her master geysered nonstop into her cunt...
   A few hours later, a lieutenant from the engineering section signaled
the bell at the captain's ready room.  There was a slight pause, then it
slid upon with a barely audible hiss.  Captain Harcrow was sitting at his
desk, a slightly odd expression on his face.  "What...  is it, Lieutenant?"
the captain grunted, his voice sounding strange.
   The lieutenant carefully refrained from furrowing his brow and handed
out to him a dataslate.  "I've been sent by Chief Engineer Marco with a
status report of the engines, power cores, and subsystems, including a
general systems performance overview post-launch."
   "Very...  good," the captain grunted again.  "You..." He broke off in
midsentence, hissing a very bestial sound, before continuing, "You are
dismissed." The lieutenant laid the dataslate down on the desk, very
confused, and went out.
   Beneath the desk, Garrett was jacking himself off on Qihliani's throat.
The counselor was kneeling in front of his chair, hidden from view as the
captain yanked her head back and forth on his massive log of succulent
manmeat.
   The voyage of the Triumph had begun.
   **********
   DISCLAIMER: This is always implicit in my stories, but let me make it
explicit.  I in no way condone any sexual or illegal activities with minors
in real life.  In real life, young boys and girls are not equipped,
emotionally or mentally or physically, for sexual activity.  My stories,
even those taking place in a 'realistic' setting, are pure fantasy in that
the fictional children inhabiting my stories are completely capable of
mature sexual love and lust.
   COMMENTS: Like many authors, I love hearing positive feedback and
suggestions!  If you like, email me: wonderotica DOT 1 AT gmail DOT com
  
Triumph's Odyssey Ch. 01