Chapter 32

Flotsam
Chapter 32: Junk Desert

The Train rumbles under my feet and the lights of the Mesa shrink in the distance. It’s still very early in the morning and the sky is just brightening on the horizon. The air has a crisp chill that I can feel even through the insulated layers of my desert suit and poncho; I huddle my shoulders and look around. Even this close to the city the Train is surrounded by junk: heaps of rusted steel and broken spaceships, mounds of Breakyard tailings, the odd jutting spur of reddish stone. Sometimes I can see the lights of passing fliers or the glow of a homestead outpost half hidden in the scrap. I think of the Convent of the Circle of The Sleeping God and my other trip disastrous outside the city. My body shivers. 

“Hail newb, feelin’ the chill?”

It’s Lately holding a thermos. Lately, short for Lattiaerraullynnias, is a rangy human woman with undercut curly red hair and a pair of horns, although I can’t tell what kind since she’s hacked them off a couple inches past her skull. She has wide emerald eyes and a splash of intense freckles on her exposed face. She’s wearing an armored bodysuit and has an embroidered green kerchief tied around her neck. She blinks and smiles at me, showing off slightly gapped front teeth. “A little,” I say, “This trip is going to be the farthest I’ve ever been from home. In my life, technically?”

“Well ye picked a fine crew for it.” Lately winks, “We’ll get ye where your goin’, tis my personal guarantee.”

I smile with my eyes, “Thanks.”

“Fancy some tea t’get ye through the morn?” 

“Woof, I wish.” I reach out with my mind and yank my cloth facemask down, baring my pussy a little. “No scalding hot drinks for me, I’m afraid”

“Matron Queen!” 

I blush, “Yeah… I had a sexy accident with a god...”

Lately stares at me thoughtfully and chews on her lip slowly, and I find myself fidgeting under her attention. Our comms chirp and a voice says: “Fellow crew and honoured guest, breakfast is ready.”

Oh thank god, saved by the bell.

***

“...And that's when he fell straight into the latrine tank!"

Culvert sighs, "Must you keep telling this story to everyone?" 

"Y'know I absolutely do," Burk says with a grin. Burk is gamon-faced and corpulent and radiates avuncular good cheer. 

Culvert is very thin and albino pale and wears opaque goggles over his eyes. He rubs his bald pate as if he is in pain, "For the record it was an ancient and disused latrine tank."

Lately nudges me with an elbow and winks, "Filled with ancient and disused turds."

"Manners please," says Whiz as if they do not expect it to make any difference. The elegant Blue alien lifts a plate of pancake-analogues and passes them to No, an anonymous Red Robed individual that I'm pretty sure is a woman. She signs her thanks and slips two pancakes into a heated bag to eat privately. "The All does not need to entertain latrine anecdotes at the communal table."

"I'm providin' criticial safety information for Halley," Burk remarks and takes a long sip of tea.

"I wouldn't want to fall into a latrine hole," I bat my eyelashes… "Like Culvert."

Burk spits out his tea and No signals amusement. Lately giggles and bumps me with her hip.

"This is my burden/suffering/lot," Culvert says glumly to his food. 

Burk coughs, "She's a natural!"

"Indeed." Whiz says with a small smile. 

"Will ye eat something?" Lately asks me.

"I'm not hungry," I lie, because I am, but I'm also not quite ready to show off my pussy and food-fuck myself in the face in front of everyone. "But thanks."

***

I'm up in the crow's nest looking out at the Junk Desert which stretches on and on and on as far as I can see. I look off to my right and there’s nothing but a twisted matrix of broken spacecraft that extends like a rusty thicket to the horizon. I look left, or I guess port, and see the same twisted carpet of scrap, unbroken except for the swell of a particularly large hulk or a jagged spear of steel sticking out like a flagpole. For all its complexity the Junk Desert feels featureless and empty, an abandoned expanse. It somehow makes me think of the sea more than a desert, of that otherworldly sensation of a sailor completely surrounded by waves. It makes me feel tiny. Like a mote. Powerless. Insignificant.

I make myself  look at the Train instead. There at the front is The Engine, a massive flying locomotive, two stories tall and covered in bulky mismatched steel armor like something out of a world war documentary. There is a Blue gravity drive in the locomotive’s core, the recycled sublight engine from a spacecraft powerful enough to pull a whole ass train through the air. Behind the Engine is the Cabin car, a three story floating fortress with food and water storage, our cramped sleeping quarters, the crew's lounge and mess hall, and Captain Frost's private cabin/office. Then there are two huge barge sized cargo cars, big metal boxes currently empty except for my awesome new hoverbike, followed by the Workshop car, a heavily armored garage filled with the equipment and tools for the actual Salvaging operation. On top of the Workshop is the tall lookout mast and Crow's nest where I'm currently perched. Looking aft of the Workshop, there are four more empty cargo cars and then finally an armored Caboose with some extra storage, crew space, and the rookery for The Train's extensive drone fleet. One of the boomerang shaped scout drones floats down to recharge and a replacement drone takes off and resumes patrolling. The entire Train is heavily armored and studded with weapons: there are large gun turrets on The Engine, The Crew Cabin, Workshop, and Caboose and modular rocket launchers spread across The Train. There is even a lazer blaster thing mounted up here on the Crow’s nest. I look down the barrel at the rapidly passing scrap heap. Pew pew pew.

"Are you alright? Looking out at the Open Junk can be dire for one’s mood or sanity.”

I turn and see Whiz has joined me on the Crow’s nest. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“My apologies for disturbing the peace, but this one has been assigned sentry duty.” Whiz is wearing a loose kaftan printed in a chaotic Blue-style print done in unusually drab colours worn over an armoured Junk suit. They have a tight stitched leather cap on their tall bald head.

I nod at the laser blaster, “Is all of this really necessary?”

“Alas,” Whiz says. “The All is unlikely to experience an attack this close to the city, but banditry is not uncommon in The Junk Desert. Few outlaws would ambush a fortified Train, but The All must remain vigilant.” Whiz grabs the handles of the laser blaster and checks the weapon. “As you humans are fond of saying: Better safer than regretful.”

Whiz looks down the barrel sight of the blaster and experimentally swings it around on its mount. The sight of a Blue wearing camo and handling a big ass gun is jarring; the species seems so pacifistic and anti-violence that I’d never pictured any of them as a gunner. Even the Deviants have a playful energy to their violence, a shared agreement that it’s all a game. “Are you Deviant?”

“Your pardon?”

“Sorry, it’s just I’ve never seen a Blue handle a weapon before.” I try to gesture with my head in a way that says look-at-all-this, “Salvaging doesn’t really seem like a… proscribed Blue profession.”

Whiz tilts their head and sweeps their eye membranes, “You are correct that few of this one’s kind work the Junk. The choice to leave the community, to isolate oneself, is Antisocial and not something many Blues would choose. This work is not verboten however, it is simply unpopular.” Whiz smiles thinly, “This one is not a Deviant, and is actually in excellent Social Standing.”

“Then why are you here?”

“That is a question this one often asks themself.” Whiz looks out over the Junk, “One can agree with the rules of their society, and yet find them cloying to live under.”

“You mean the Blue Social Contract?” That set of social pressures that like, guilts Blues into behaving properly.

“Yes,” Whiz nods. “My Mate is deeply invested in Community and wishes to uphold Appearances, which this one finds exhausting.”

“You’re… Pair Bonded?”

“Yes and a parent.”

“And yet you’re here…”

“I love my Mate and cherish my Offspring, but I cannot always live to their Social Standards. My Mate is very invested in The Contract and is a Politician/Minister/Chaplain and runs a strict household. It is my pleasure to be their doting Mate and live according to their strict Code when in the city, but it is a relief to be able to escape to The Junk and relax among humans.” Whiz smiles, “You are lovable cretins.”

“Why thank you.” 

Whiz unlocks something on the gun turret that let’s it swivel around the edge of the Crow’s Nest. I think about Bluebell and her Deviancy and the way she’s been ostracized. It’s somehow deeply unfair that  Whiz can hide his differences and pass while my beloved is punished for being open about her identity. “No offense,” I say, “but that’s kind of bullshit.”

Whiz looks at me intently, “Pardon?”

“You get to take a vacation from following the rules, but since it’s out of sight it’s okay? But anyone who is open and honest about hating the rules is punished. That’s so hypocritical!”

Whiz raises a hand in a gesture I know means disagreement, “It is accurate that this one engages in behavior outside the ideal, but that is not unusual. Many of this one’s species cannot perfectly follow the Social Contract, it is an aspiration not a law, but they do not celebrate their shortcomings. Deviants flaunt their differences and engage in perverse or violent behaviour as a statement. They publicly reject the Contract. The Social Contract protects The All, even if it requires personal sacrifice. There is value in compromise and Social Harmony.” Whiz bows their head, pauses, “However, this one is ashamed of the way Blue Society punishes Deviants. The mark of a great society is not conformity, it is how that society deals with outliers. The All does not need to celebrate Deviancy, but a truly strong society would accommodate it. This lack of compassion is a travesty.”

“Oh.”

“You have a Deviant who is dear to you, do you not?”

“Yeah.”

Whiz nods and smiles, “Your loyalty is laudable. It is good for you to speak on their behalf.” The Blue looks out over the desert. “Perhaps this one should do more to speak out as well.”

***

“Are you settling in alright?”

“Yes Captain, sir.”

Captain Frost smiled thinly, “Halley, you don’t have to call me Captain.”

“Sorry,” I say as everyone else at the table shouts “Yes! Captain!”

Captain Frost grimaces and I blush and the rest of the crew grins like I’ve stumbled into another running joke. “Try to ignore them,” Frost says, “you’ll be happier.”

“Yes Captain,” I say with mock seriousness and Lately giggles. See I can be fun.

“Hmm,” Captain Frost says before turning back to his meal. It’s dinner time on The Train and I’m eating with The Captain, Lately, Whiz, Culvert, and the A3 body of the resident artificial intelligence. Except I’m not actually eating since I’m still shy about my face and A3 isn’t eating because they are a robot. “Do you have any questions for me?”

I think for a second. I know the rules and have no problems with my (very basic) accommodations. No issues there. But… “How does it all work?”

Captain Frost raises an eyebrow, “What do you mean?” Captain Frost is an older human man, handsome with greying hair, and a face weathered by time spent on the Junk. He’s wearing an armored jumpsuit, but has a chunky cable-knit cardigan over it, which makes him look a little like a tugboat captain somehow. 

“The overall operation,” I need to find a better way to gesture… “Like, how do you choose where to go? What separates one patch of Junk Desert from another? You’re clearly going to a specific place, but why?”

Captain Frost nods, “We’re following a tip. We have a relationship with a Prospector who found a mostly intact vessel of unknown origin. Between the craft’s condition and it’s novelty, we think we’ll find some premium equipment to sell. But we have to be quick about it, since the Junk Desert is a free-for-all, so it’s always a bit of a race.”

“A Prospector?”

“A half-tame Scavenger with a side hustle,” Captain Frost says. 

Whiz nods, “Hunting the Desert for a single shining prize is not a reliable livelihood.”

“Most Scavengers give up and head back to the city,” The Captain says. 

“A few join a Salvaging outfit,” Culvert says too solemnly.

“And some o’ them go bandit!” Lately sings with a lurid grin.

Captain Frost shakes his head a little, “But the true Scavengers, the lifers, keep an eye out for value. The good ones might never find the one treasure that let’s them retire, but they can pretty reliably find something worth selling. They auction off good locations or, in our case, we’re friends, so they show us the best spots for a finders fee and a percentage.”

“Why do they do that? Why give you special treatment?”

“Because the Captain was one of ‘em once,” Lately says.

“Really? I thought Salvagers loathed Scavengers.”

Captain Frost shakes his head, “It’s a rivalry of small differences. The reality is porous: when I was a younger man I’d join a Salvager crew for a few trips, then take my earnings and try my luck Scavenging until the money ran out. So I knew folks on both sides of the line.”

“How did you become a Captain?”

The lights on A3’s head flash in a patern. The robot has a single cyclopian camera eye and ring of LED lights on it’s ‘face’. My mind interprets the flashes as: //THE CAPTAIN FOUND/DISCOVERED/RESCUED ME//

“Yes,” Frost agrees. “I got very lucky while out Scavenging and found a remarkable alien ship with a fully sapient artificial intelligence that was still functional. It was a remarkable find.”

“Truly a ticket to a world of blowjobs and feasts!” Lately gushed.

“Lately…” Whiz scolds.

“Cunnilingus too,” Lately says, sticking our her tongue and wagging it around. I blush and she winks.

Frost ignores her and continues: “It was the kind of Artifact I probably could have sold for a lifetime of leisure, but it seemed immoral to me. The intelligence was thinking and aware, had emotions and preferences. Selling it would be enslavement.” The Captain shakes his head.

A3’s lights flashed: //THE CAPTAIN SET ME FREE INSTEAD OF REALIZING HIS POTENTIAL WINDFALL//

“That’s great,” I say. Captain Frost is a good egg. “But how did you ever afford this Train if you didn’t sell the AI?”

“I sold the rest of the crashed ship. A# was the most valuable part of the ship, but strange alien technology is worth a lot too; not retire for life wealth, but enough to finance buying a Train and hiring a crew. Especially with A#’s help.”

//THE HOMEWORLD OF MY BUILDERS IS LOST TO DISTANCE AND TIME. IT IS UNLIKELY I WILL EVER BE REUNITED. HOWEVER I REQUIRE/DESIRE PURPOSE AND ENJOY/NEED A CREW TO ASSIST/SERVE/CARE-TAKE AND A VEHICLE TO EMBODY. I TRUST/RESPECT THE CAPTAIN AND VOLUNTEERED TO BE HIS SHIP-MIND//

Culvert points at Whiz with his eating tongs, “A# does a lot of the work running the Train with its three main bodies and The Captain hired Whiz and Burk from an experienced crew and they stuck.”

Whiz nods, “It has been a pleasure to serve.”

The Captain smiles, “We’ve had a few others come and go since then. No and Lately have been on a few trips with us and will be fully Vested soon.”

Lately gives me a sly glance, “And Culvert is on his second trip out.” 

Whiz nods, “No longer a rookie.”

Culvert smiles proudly.

“Wait? Does that mean you fell in the latrine like a week ago?”

***

I frown at my food and growl when my clumsy mental hands slip off it again. I’m so fucking hungry!  And so horny too! I feel my wet pussy drool down my chin. I haven’t eaten all day but trying to shove these protein tubes into my face is making me too horny to use my telepathy. Fuck! This is super annoying! I kick my feet on my bunk, “Fuck.”

“Tis everything good up there?,” Lately asks from her bunk below.

“Yes? Sorry.” The two of us are sharing a tiny cabin with two stacked sleeping compartments. 

The curtain to my bunk pulls aside and there is the curious face of Lately, “Ye sound a might bit frustrated.”

I look away from her, trying to hide my engorged face. “I’m having trouble eating,” I admit.

Lately blinks her green eyes and studies me with curiosity, “Tis it always difficult t’eat with your…?”

“Yes, a little, but um…” I blush, “I only recently had my arms removed and my mental hands don’t work so well when I’m… aroused…”

Lately’s face breaks into a grin, “So eating feels good then? Sexy?”

I close my eyes and nod, “Yes. A lot.”

“Oh.”

I open my eyes to find Lately staring at me very closely. “I could help ye.”

“What?”

“Let me feed ye.”

“What!?”

Lately bites her lip and lifts one of the slightly phallic protein tubes out of my food carton. She carefully dips it in the savory sauce, thickly coating the end of it. Lately smiles at me and blushes a little and holds the space-sausage up, presenting it to me. “Go ahead.”

Oh my god, what the fuck is happening!? This is… this is inappropriate right? To do this with a crew member. But… my stomach knots in hunger. I’m starving! And I don’t know if I can feed myself. I… I need the help. Just… it’s just food. This isn’t sexy! It isn’t allowed to be sexy. I take a deep breath and nod, “O-okay.”

I close my eyes and lean forward toward the offered food. I feel my labia brush against the saucy tube and I try to push it inside, but it moves aside. “Sorry,” Lately whispers, “try again.” I feel her push the food against my labia and this time she holds it steady as I insert it into my mouthpussy. I stifle a moan and blow a breath out behind my ears as I feel the protein tube stretch my labia and penetrate my cunt. Fuck! I clench my pussy muscles and push my head forward, feel the sausage slowly fill me inch after inch until it hits the back of my vagina/throat. I can feel Lately’s hand pressed against my labia and I whimper! Fuck! Muscles flex and I pull the food into my gizzard. “Oh Jesus,” I gasp, face red with arousal and shame.

I open my eyes and see Lately has already lifted another sausage. Her eyes are very wide and she’s studying me carefully. “Would it help if I pushed?”

I nod, panting, not trusting myself to speak. I present my face, my face-pussy slick and open and watch as Lately frowns in concentration, dips the sausage in sauce, and brings it up to my face, wielding it erectly. She shivers and pushes the protein tube gently into my pussy, stopping when she meets resistance. I groan and push my face forward, hungrily force the sausage inside me. Lately blinks in surprise, jerks back, pulls the sausage back out, and it feels almost as good on the accidental backstroke. I moan and she laughs a little, then presses the sausage forward, suddenly with confidence, this time forcing it deep inside me. I gasp happily and push my face forward, helping swallow the sausage, until my labia are kissed against Lately’s fingers. She pulls them back and they are glistening wet with my juices. “Another?” She asks.

“Please…” 

This time Lately is more confident and forcefully pushes the sausage into my pussy, firmly and in one smooth motion. I groan and squirm. Fuck, it feels so good. The cunt between my legs is soaking wet and my cock is straining against my tight damp shorts. Fuck I’m going to cum! Lately doesn’t wait, she grabs my by the back of the head and jams the next sausage into my pussy, ramming it in hard and twisting it a little. My eyes go wide and I gasp. “More?” she asks, her voice husky. “Oh god, yes… don’t stop…” And she doesn’t, holding my head tightly and cramming protein tubes into my pussy, one after another after another, I squeal and orgasm! Once! And then again! My cock twitches and aches painfully it’s so hard. And then Lately is kissing me on my mouthpussy and climbing into my bunk and I’m moaning into her mouth and grinding my clit against her nose. We shouldn’t be doing this! But I want it so bad!  She’s pulling off her shirt and her high small breasts are covered in freckles and she’s reached into my shorts and has her hand on my cock and fuck! “Fuck!” She grins, impish and horny, and pulls my pants off and I’m helpless to stop her. “Matron Queen,” she gasps as she gets a good look at my huge hard cock. And then she’s naked and on top of me and forcing my cock into her tight hot needy cunt and fucking me, riding me, her taught body straining against me, hands gripping my smooth shoulders, face dipping down to lick and suck on my face cunt. Two bodies working together within the tight confines of the bunk, growling, whining, gasping, and then Lately’s comes, her voice letting out an almost musical almost animal noise as she bucks her hips wildly against me until I groan and my cock erupts inside her. She clutches me tightly and I wrap my leg around hers…

***

It’s morning and Lately’s naked body is still pressed against me. “Shit.”

“Mornin’” Lately mumbles, clutching me tighter.

“Oh my god,” I say.

“‘Twas good then?” Lately asks, running a playful finger down my ribs to my flank.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” I say, squirming at her touch, “Right?”

Lately giggles and I relax a little. She has a very cute laugh. “Tis fine,” she whispers into my neck. 

“But…”

Lately bonks her head gently into mine and I can feel the hard nubs of her chopped down horns, “D’ye really believe we’re the first folks to’ve fucked on this Train? Or that yer my first desert lover?” Lately’s face is so close to mine and she’s smiling like I’m the silliest creature alive. She snorts and kisses me firmly on the labia. “Yer daft,” she says fondly.

“Okay,” I say, taking a deep long breath and letting the tension leak out of my body. “That was really fun. Thanks for feeding me and… y’know?”

“Fuckin’ yer brains out?”

“Yeah.”

Lately gives my cock a fond squeeze, “More where that came from.”

I shiver, “Right now?”

“Alas, I have duties t’perform. Sex is strictly for off the clock.” She wriggles free of my body and climbs out of my bunk compartment. I watch as she towels off her body and expertly slips into her work jumpsuit. She ruffles up her messy hair and smiles at me. And then she leans into my bunk, grabs me by the face, and kisses me deeply in the pussy. “Later.”

***

Burk mutters a curse and shakes out a cramping hand. “Fucking thing sucks!”

I’m hovering in the Workshop trying to act natural and not like I spent the whole night fucking a crew member. “Are you alright?”

“Bah!” Burk growls, balling his fists and scowling at the broken drill-thing that still refuses to work. The drill-thing is attached to a robotic arm from one of the two towering mechs parked in the Workshop. The mechs are massive and industrial looking and remind of the monster-truck combat body of The Destroyer. They’re the A4 and A5 bodies of the Train’s AI, currently powered down and stored for the trip. One of Burk’s duties is to keep them functional and something about the drill-thing is broken or seized or jammed or otherwise fucked and the avuncular man is redder-faced than usual trying to get it un-fucked. “Bugger…”

“Can I help?” 

“Sure come over here and lend me a hand!”

“Har har,” I say dryly and Burk grins.

“I could use a torque-spammer,” Burk suggests, a twinkle in his eye, “From the workbench, over there.”

I bat my eyelashes above my facemask; so he wants to have a bit of fun does he? Make the pretty armless girl go fetch the tool as a joke? I guess no one mentioned my mental powers to him. I strut over to the workbench, putting some extra sway into my hips, aware of Burk watching me as he pretends to keep working on the drill. I stop at the table and do a worried toe-twist with one of my feet as I survey the pile of tools on the table. Poor me! How ever will I fetch the tool for you? I glance at Burk and he looks quickly away, trying to play it cool like he isn’t having a laugh. I pretend to ignore him and study the tools. I see sort-of-screwdrivers and kinda-wrenches and something-like-pliers and what is intergalactically a hammer. I have no idea what a torque-spammer is which is going to ruin my game. Magically fetching the tool is only cool if it’s the right one. I caress each tool with my mental-touch as if ‘feeling’ them might reveal their identity and wait! I can sense all the tools at once, can’t I? Can I lift more than one? More than two? All of them at once? I’ve never tried to use my telekinesis on more than one thing yet. I frown at Burk and catch him staring at his shoes with a big stupid smile on his face. I take a long deep breath and clear my mind, note the location of every tool on the bench, and then will them all to lift. I watch as ten, twelve, sixteen tools float into the air and hover around me. “Oh Burk…” I sing.

Burk looks up at me, his mouth open in surprise.

“Which one is the torque-spammer?”

Burk points at something like a wrench fucking a power drill, “Uh that one…”

“Thanks,” I say brightly and launch it at him, fast enough that he has to scramble to catch it.

***

I’m in the Caboose watching No service a drone. She works silently, gloved hands quickly prying off the aerodynamic cowling to expose a surprisingly simple interior of circuits and modules. Her masked head is visually hidden but with my new senses I’m aware of the contours of her face, secretly quite beautiful behind her shroud. I frown, feeling rude for my radar touch and try to respect her privacy by ‘looking’ elsewhere.

The Caboose is No’s domain with a large table scattered with delicate tools and a tall shelf filled with spare components. On the ceiling is the drone rookery, a motorized rack filled with recharging drones, like a techno-mobile. On one side of the room is No’s sleeping quarters hidden inside a tent made out of a heavy quilted blanket stitched with metallic thread. There are fragrant drying spices hanging and dried flowers and music, a kind of rolling low-fi beat that fills the air. The intent of the room is to maintain privacy and anonymity, but it’s so obviously inhabited by No that it’s totally her own. “Did you make the music?” I ask.

No pauses her work and looks at me and I can’t help but sense her smile behind the veil. “Yes,” she allows via sign language.

“It’s nice.”

She signals her appreciation and then snaps the cowling back into place on the drone and returns it to the rookery rack for redeployment.

***

I’m in my tiny cabin back pressed to the wall panting as Lately is on her knees sucking my cock and fingering my pussy. “Oh fuck…”

“Mmmff,” Lately agrees, her mouth warm and wet and stuffed full of my girth. 

“Don’t stop,” I gasp, overcome by the urge to grab her by the head, but I can’t, all I can do is squirm agains the wall, helplessly pleasured.

Lately pulls back a little, licks the head of my cock and allows her tongue explores my glans. Inside me her fingers curl against the roof of my pussy and I shudder and moan. 

“So close…” I beg and Lately bobs her head faster, strokes me harder inside and out. My facial pussy leaks down my chin and drips onto Lately’s head like a faucet. “Oh… ohhh…. Ohhhhh…. ahhhh….”

***

The sun is setting over the Junk casting a long orange glow that washes over the bent tangle of scrap, softening the sharpest edges and creating a textured silhouette. In the distance twin plumes of a dust storm collect the evening color like a wild canvas. The air is cool and clean and the only sound is the hum of the Train Locomotive below my feet. Lately comes up behind me and slips her arms around my torso and I lean back into her embrace.

It’s beautiful.

***

“Fucking fuck!” I sputter out my cunt as the Rocket burns my delicate membranes. “Owww!”

“Noble Lady!” Lately says, dropping the shot glass and grabbing a cloth to daub my chin. 

Burke brays a laugh, “Is this your first time drinking, rookie?”

Tears sting my eyes and I shake my head no. “First time pouring paint stripper into my cunt.”

Burke leers at my pussymouth, like he’s been leering all night. “Tell me more.”

No gives him a stiff elbow and Lately cleans off my face and chest. I suck in a breath and wince, doing shots was more fun with a mouth-mouth. Maybe I could soak a borrowed tampon and suck on that? That would still burn though, right? No waves her hand for my attention and holds up the end of her pipe. While the rest of us are smashing shots of rocket (or at least trying to), she’s been inhaling from a medical hookah-type-thing that I think might be a nebulizer for booze. She has been slipping the long thin pipe under her mask and now seems to be affably drunk, although it’s hard to tell behind her red robes. “Go ahead,” she signs.

No holds the pipe out for me and I study it. It’s hand-tooled stainless steel and wide like a kitchen pipe. I work my jaw and rub my labia together thoughtfully, what is this going to feel like? I suck in a deep breath and lean forward, carefully inserting the pipe into my oral cunt, the steel surprisingly cool to the touch. I close my eyes and push the pipe further into my pussy, holding back a moan at the sensation. I blow out my breath through the slits behind my ear and take a long drag on the pipe. Ice cold air floods my vagina and I take it deep into my lungs where it feels like a chilly balm. I instantly feel a rush of lightheadedness as the booze or whatever floods my system, “Holy shit,” I gasp, pulling the pipe free of my pussy and looking at No with a blush. 

“Right!?” No signs sloppily taking the pipe back from me. It’s shiny with my pussy and I have no idea what face she’s making behind her mask. No calmly slips the pipe under her mask and takes another hit. 

Burke is staring at us with rapt fascination, even ruddier than usual. “Usually a guy has to pay for a show like this.”

I give him a smouldering look and blow a raspberry through my pussy, making the air fragrant with cunt. I flutter my eyelashes, “I take gratuities.” 

“Aye I have a tip for ya!”

“So do I…” I purr and Lately snickers, while Burke looks confused.

“Humans…” Whiz tuts and snorts another tiny spoonful of Red Dust. “Your courtship behavior is exhausting.”

No makes a “Go on” sign.

“Unceasing flirtation and denial and provocation! Endless seduction! Unnecessary repression!” Whiz nods at Burke, “Pursuing inappropriate sexual partners!” Burke raises his glass in a salut. “Elaborate rituals,” Whiz gestures at No and then gives Lately and me a studious look. Their eye membranes blink, “Sub-ter-fuge.”

Lately grins and I blush.

“Why Whiz?” I quickly ask to change the subject.

“Pardon?”

“The names Blues use with humans always have a story. So why do we call you Whiz?”

Whiz tilts their head proudly, “Because I am wise.”

“How do you get wise from Whiz?”

The Blue alien deflates a little, “It is short for Wizard…”

“What?”

Burke laughed, “It’s all Hank’s fault! Whiz was Wise when we first Crewed together, but Hank liked to riff on nicknames, Wise the Wonderful Wizard, became Wizard, became Whiz.” 

“And alas the name stuck.”

I giggled a little drunkenly, “You know whiz has other meanings in the Earthling language, right?”

“I have been informed it means to move quickly or to be especially talented at something.”

“It also means piss.”

“Micturition?”

Lately and Burke laugh and No claps her hands, while Whiz blanches a little. I wiggle my empty shoulders playfully, “I could work on a new nickname for you, if you want?”

“Please do not.”

“Whizzy, Whizzer, Whoosh…”

“Pissy!”

“Pee-pee!”

“Remind me why I enjoy humans…”

No shrugs and takes another hit of her booze pipe.

***

“So,” I say, “Tell me about yourself.”

“What d’ye mean?” 

Lately stretches out nakedly, next to me on the bunk. My cock is slick and sticky with our juices. I drape a leg over her body and press my slick pussymouth to her neck. “I want to know about you.”

“What is there to know?” She strokes her hand down my back and grabs my ass.

“The horns. Why are they cut off?”

“Mostly for the convenience,” Lately says with a sigh. “Can ye picture livin’ in this cramped bin with a full elk rack?”

“You have antlers!”

“Aye! Wider than my shoulders if I let ‘em grow.”

I hug Lately with my thighs and picture her with big deer horns, “That sounds really cute.”

“Ach, ye sound like my mother…”

“Oh. That sounds like a thing.”

“Truth be told, I had m’antlers shorn down years ago to upset my kin.”

“Really? Is that like, a taboo?”

Lately gives my ass a squeeze, “Ye don’t know much about the horned folk do ye?”

“Ignorant Earthling clone.”

Lately grins, “Right, so, my ancestors were engineered as a gift to the High Lady of the Sylgyllandgrangr Court of Pleiadeas. It was done germline so we’d all sprout horns, always different and random, generation to generation. My ma has ibex horns and my father pronghorn antlers. We were to be kept as serfs, servants to the Court, as a curiosity and a delight. The horned folk were never indentured, not exactly, but it t’weren’t a life o’ freedom either.” Lately gives me a little kiss, “My grandmama and grandfather were among those who left the jungle-forest palaces of Pleiades and sought a new life among the enclaves of free humans, which for them was here on Flotsam.”

“Interesting. Why’d you rebel?”

Lately puffs out her cheeks, “Because the horned folk stayed insular and mired in the culture of Pleiadeas. They play Plejaren music, sing Plejaren songs, wore fashions based on Plejaren livery, cook Plejaren food, and gossip about Plejaren court intrigue. They don’t mix with other sapients and reckon themselves the betters of other humans. On account o’ their wealth and their culture. It’s fuckin’ bollocks! What’s the use in freedom when they only pantomime servitude? Or spend time celebratin’ the culture o’ their Oppressors? What’s the use of joinin’ all humanity if we scoff at ‘em?” Lately scowls, “Fucking’ rubbish is what.”

I give her another thigh hug, “How does that relate to your antlers?”

“Our horns set us apart, is a mark o’ bein’ an outsider and a crown o’ pride for my folk. Cuttin’ ‘em off was a statement o’ rejection of our ways and my desire to fit in here on Flotsam. To be a true human.” She laughs, “My ma and father were so fuckin’ mad!”

I laugh too, “So you’re a punk, then.”

“Punk? I’m translatin’ that a bit funny.”

“Like a Blue Deviant.”

“Right…” Lately giggles and fingers my facial pussy, “I’m the Deviant in this bunk.”

I suck at her finger, “You love it.”

“Aye,” she sighs, propping herself up to look down at me as she gently strokes my cunt.

“So… mmm… why’d you end up out here on… mmmm… the Junk?”

“I reckon I was lookin’ for a new place to belong. A family I could be proud of.”

“Did you… ah…. find it?”

“Aye, I reckon I have.”

Lately smiles and touches her lips and then climbs on top of me, her thighs on either side of my head and her wet cunt hovering over my face. “Wh-what?”

“I want to try somethin’ new” Lately says, sitting on my face, grinding her labia against my mouthpussy. 

“Ohhh…”

***

“Behold!” Culvert says dramatically and gestures at a white square outline spray painted onto the wall of the empty freight car.

“Okay, what did you want to show me?” Even with lights on the freight car is dim and it smells like rust and metal and something funky, like gym socks maybe.

Culvert’s cringes a little and stammers, “I wondered if you wanted to play with me…”

“Play?” I frown at him, feeling a burble of anxiety, “What?”

Culvert reaches into his pants… and pulls out a glowing red seed that expands into a handball, “It’s a, um, game I invented… well, probably not, but I like to play it while we travel out and everyone else is sick of it. Except A#, but it always wins…”

“Okay, slow down.” I smile with my eyes, the sweet dork just wants to play ball. I reach out with my mind and lift the ball from his hand and float it towards me, making it spin like a top. “What are the rules?”

“Oh that’s so cool,” Culvert says, the black lenses of his goggles fixed on the glowing ball. 

“Rules?”

“Right!” Culvert gestures at the square on the wall. “Basically you have to bounce the ball off the wall in the square and not let it hit the ground. So like, one player will throw it at the square and the other player has to catch it and then they throw it at the square until someone drops it. The dropper loses the point.”

I grin and roll my eyes, so it’s just wall ball, the game of bored teenage boys throughout the universe. “One problem,” I say as I make the ball orbit my body, “I’m telekinetic and also don’t have arms.”

“Oh.”

“So either I’m like, way too good at this or can’t even play.”

“Shit.” Culvert rubs his pale bald head, “I didn’t think of that.”

I drop the ball to the floor and use my feet to settle it, then bounce it between my toes. I’d played soccer at the orphanage and been pretty good at it, but it had been ages ago and with a less curvy body that still had disgusting arms. I wonder if I’m still any good at it? It’s probably the only sport I can still play. I flick the ball up and gently kick it to Culvert who awkwardly catches it. “What if we played with our feet?”

“What?”

“Instead of throwing, we could kick the ball at the square, and to make it a little easier we let it bounce off the floor once. I promise no mind powers.”

Culvert smiles and nods, “That could work.”

“Can you make the ball a little bigger, like the size of my head?”

Culvert nods and expands the ball to vaguely soccerball proportions. I nod, “Great, kick it at the wall, Latrine Boy!”

Culvert looks shocked and then grins, “Oh, it’s on Pussybreath!”

***

I kick my feet on the side of the Locomotive and watch the ocean of scrap whizz by. I’m sweaty and sore, bruised and scraped from a few hard tumbled, and maybe a little euphoric. Soccer-wall-ball was fun, if maybe a little dangerous for a clumsy armless gal. I grin and lay down on the roof of the Train and see Captain Frost towering over me. “Captain!?”

“Halley,” he says amiably and stands next to me, resting his arms on the railing of the little balcony on the roof of the Locomtovie.

I strain my abs and fight myself back up to a sitting position on the side of the roof, legs hanging over the side, a railing spur between my thighs to stop me from falling off. I should probably stand up, but I have no idea how I’m going to manage that with a shred of dignity, so I guess I’ll just have to stay down here. “How can I help you?” I ask looking up at him and feeling ridiculous.

“Just wanted to check up and see how you’re enjoying the trip.”

“Great,” I smile with my eyes. “I’m having a lovely time.”

“Accommodations are okay?”

“Perfect.”

“And you’re getting along with the crew?”

I feel a blush on my cheeks, “Yes, they’re great.”

Captain Frost looks out at the Junk, “I know about you and Lately.”

“Oh!” Shit.

“Lately is a grown woman and is the pilot of her own misadventures.” Frost gives me a thin smile, “If you were a permanent member of the crew this would be an… issue to resolve, of course, but since you’re a guest that we’ll be parting ways with in day or so, no harm done. Companionship in this lonely world is a blessing, after all.”

“It… is...” I squirm. “Thanks?”

“You should know,” The Captain continues in the same friendly tone of voice, “that if I learn that you’ve deliberately hurt Lately I’ll refund your fare and kick you off my Train. And It’s a long walk back to Flotsam City from here.” He grins with all of his teeth, “Do we understand one another?”

“Perfectly,” I squeak.

“Excellent. I’d hate for there to a misunderstanding.” He calls his hands and starts to talk away. He looks back over his shoulder, “It’s a pleasure having you along for the trip.” 

***

Lately giggles, “He truly said that?”

“Yeah.”

“What a dear,” she grins. “I’m certain he’d not make ye walk all the way back t’ Flotsam.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Faraway Haven is much closer!”

I pout and she laughs. I shrug my armless shoulders, “Shouldn’t you be watching the Junk?” 

Lately scoffs but shades her eyes and studies the passing desert in a grand show of scouting. We’re up in the Crow’s Nest and Lately is supposedly on sentry duty. She suggested I come up and learn how to be a lookout, but I’m getting the sense that I’m really here for company. Which given the Captain is onto our little game seems like asking for trouble. I should either actually help or make an excuse to be elsewhere, maybe back in our cabin trying to look seductive or something? Or take a nap. Lately slicks her tongue, “Nary an enemy in sight, m’ lady.”

I lean over the rail and look out at the Junk, the rough twisted carpet of metal undulating like gentle hills. It’s complex, but also somehow featureless, and I have no idea how to even spot trouble. What differentiates a benign tangle of steel from a deadly ambush? It’s like trying to pick an assassin out of a crowd. “What are we even looking for?”

“Anything actively attacking us, or if we’re touched with luck we’ll spot some unexpected movement ‘fore the shootin’ starts.”

I see a glint of something like reflected light and a puff of smoke. I nod at it with my head, “Like that?”

“Eh?” Lately squints and we both see something launch vertically out of the junk. “Fuck!”

“Really!?”

“Ambush!” Lately shouts into the com channel. “Fuckin’ Raider Trap!”

The launched object is some sort of large drone thing, a bulbous sphere covered in large black lenses with an antenna. It’s keeping pace with the Train but floating at a distance and doesn’t seem to be attacking. “Battle stations, please,” Captain Frost says calmly.

Lately grabs the Crow’s Nest laser canon and activates it. “Lady preserve us…”

There’s a loud bang and a swarm of drones bursts out of the Junk and races towards the Train. The new drones are a motley collection of cobbled together machines: hodgepodge flying wings and mismatched quadcopters and weird bounding gyroscopic spheres. The drones fan out and start to approach by different vectors. The Train picks up speed and the Caboose launches a squadron of fast moving delta-wing combat drones. Lately fires her laser, releasing bolts of destructive light at the incoming attackers, clipping a bouncing sphere, which explodes violently in a cloud of shrapnel and fire. “Fuck!”

Laser fire stabs out from other stations along the Train, focusing on the bouncing ball drones, which I realize are mobile bombs. I’m buffeted by a blast of heat and force as a second bouncing drone detonates. Really big bombs, I realize with a stab of fear in my guts. I look at Lately and she grimaces, tongue stuck between her teeth as she focuses on destroying the bouncers before they can reach the train. Meanwhile the enemy wing drones have formed up into flocks and are swooping towards the train. The Train’s own delta drones bank to intercept, and make a chattering noise as they spew kinetic projectiles that rip through the enemy drones, one of which explodes in a way that suggest they too are mostly bombs. The enemy drones scatter and the delta interceptors make chase as a complex dogfight develops in the airspace around the Train. 

Heavy enemy quadcopters track in slowly in the wake of the faster winged drones. One stops suddenly and blooms with fire as it launches a dozen rockets at the Train. One rocket fails and crashes into the Junk, and another veers off into the sky idiotically, but ten more race towards their target. The Train launches it’s own flight of counter-missiles to intercept the incoming rocket fire. Nine enemy rockets disappear in a burst of fire and noise, but one tumbles through and smashes into the Train, exploding and cutting a jagged hole in Culvert’s ballcourt car. Lately hisses and starts to aim her laser fire at the quadcopters.

The Train sways as a bouncing bomb explodes far too close and shrapnel pings off the side of the Crow’s Nest. I duck, panicking, fuck we are too exposed! I look up and spot an enemy wing drone dropping straight at us, just to see it cut apart by an interceptor. I watch the enemy drone plummet into the junk and explode like a grenade. Fuck! One of the Train’s big boomerang scout drones does a loose flip and suicide smashes into an enemy quadcopter, knocking both out of the air. Three enemy wing drones evade the air defences and slam into the Engine in a burst of fire that scorches armour plating but doesn’t slow the Train. A stab of laser fire from a turret hits another bouncer drone, making it skip erratically away for two or three more times before exploding. Lately shoots down a quadcopter and makes some sort of Plejaren battle cheer and another quadcopter is cut apart by a delta interceptor. I look frantically around and realize the enemy drones are thinning out. We’re destroying them! We are going to make it!

But, fuck! There! A quadcopter has made it through! 

Time seems to slow down. 

The drone leers stupidly, it’s improvised body of junk listing weirdly before it belches out eight rockets that seem to fly straight at us!

My pussy goes dry and my heart hammers in my chest.

An interceptor zips by and picks off two rockets in a flurry of flechettes.

Six rockets survive and race closer!

The Train belches a volley of counter-missiles and destroys four more rockets.

One rocket veers away, is pierced by laser fire, plummets.

One rocket slips through and becomes a fiery dot of deadly intent.

It is aimed directly at the Crows Nest.

Right at us. Right at my lover. Right at me!

Lately shoots a desperate stutter of laser fire and misses.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I feel the rocket with my mind.

Time stops.

The rocket hangs, engine flaring, suspended in the air.

Paralyzed.

Arrested.

I hold my breath waiting for time to restart.

Except… time hasn’t stopped.

It’s me! I’m holding the rocket with my mind! 

I reached out and I caught it! I fucking saved us!

Fuck! 

The rocket surges against my mental command, straining and straining and straining to kill us.

It falls away behind the Train and sputters as it’s porpoellent runs out. Impotent. Spent.

I let it drop uselessly to the ground. Dead.

The sky is clear, we’re safe! We’re still alive!

Shaking I turn to Lately to see her staring at me with wide eyes. She envelopes me in a desperate hug. “Fuck!”

“I know…”

“Was that you?” She asks. 

“Yeah…”

“Ye fuckin’ saved us!” She clutches me tighter. “Ye saved my life!”

I can’t believe it either. “You’re welcome.”

Lately kisses me hard and grinds herself against me. “Fuck that’s a turn on,” she gasps, a little surprised. “I’m gonna need ye to fuckin’ ravage me…”

“Open coms,” Whizz says primly over the radio.

***

“Why not come to town with us, with me?” Lately asks, a note of vulnerability slipping into her voice. The Train is parked on the outskirts of Faraway Haven, a small town built into broken spaceship hulls lifted on stilts. The Train will stay outside town for a day or two to reload on supplies, patch up the damage from the ambush, and so the crew can get shitfaced. The idea of spending a couple days carousing and fucking Lately in an actual bed is extremely tempting…

“You know I’d love to spend more time with you.” We’re standing in the cargo car with my awesome hoverbike with it’s ridiculous Valkyrie Centaurus’s painting on the cowling. It’s powered up and loaded with supplies and I’m wearing my whole desert adventurer outfit. I’m nervous, terrified really, but delaying the solo part of my trip isn’t going to make me anymore prepared. It’s just going to give me more time to lose my nerve. “But I have to do this.”

“I know.”

“Before I chicken out.”

“Aye.”

“I really like you. Like a lot.” I blush, feeling suddenly shy. Lately wraps me in her arms and I brush her hair from her face with my mind. “Enormously.”

“I know that too,” she says with a little smile. 

I kiss her, pressing my labia to her mouth, “This isn’t goodbye.”

“It best not be.”

“Come find me in the City, after my adventure and your expedition.” I rub my clitoris on her nose and she giggles a little. “I have room in my heart for you, and my other lover’s are happy to share.”

“Oh yer so popular…” she coos.

“Where else can folks find an armless clone with a cunt on her face?”

“Yer a unique prize.”

“For those with discerning taste.”

“Right.” Lately kisses me gently and then harder, “Now quit yer sweet talking’ ‘fore I get all weepy and drag you back to my bunk.” She gives me a one last squeeze, lifts my dust mask and goggles onto my face, and pushes me toward my hoverbike. “I’ll see ye in Flotsam.”

“Can’t wait.” I climb onto the saddle of the hoverbike, the bike rocking slightly on its cushion of displacement as I settle onto it. I place my feet cautiously into the stirrups, unsure how I’m supposed to hang onto this thing without hands… But panels on the bike close around me and encase me snugly in the fuselage on the bike. I wiggle and feel secured. I reach out with my mind and activate the program for the hoverbikes autopilot to take me to the Quarantine Zone. “Stay safe,” I say to Lately.

“Pffff,” she scoffs. “Ye fuckin’ stay safe! And find yer fuckin’ answers!”

“I will!” I shout as the bike rises out of the Train and turns to carry me deeper into the Junk Desert. I will find my fucking answers.

I’m so fucking close!

***

Chapter 33