Earthling and Venusian are marooned.
Based on the post by x sociate23, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Space Cadet Curt Cockman stood at rigid attention so that his commanding officer could conduct her rigorous inspection. Captain Bunny Bendover (pronounced Benover, for the D was silent;) was a stern but fair Commanding Officer. She also happened to be hotter than a coronal run around Sol.
Tall, blonde and shapely in her silver Space Command uniform; she was a total dick magnet. She walked stiffly around the much taller cadet, eying his well-muscled physique beneath his skintight uniform. As usual, not so much as a hair out of place. At twenty-three and fresh out of the Space Ranger Academy, the ruggedly handsome Cockman was a poster child for that much venerated group of space-faring men and women.
As the captain came to stand in front of him, it took all of Cockman's concentration not to look down at the mostly unzipped front of her waistcoat officer’s uniform. The twin swells of her tits hung just below his gaze, which never wavered as she stared him down with her piercing blue eyes. It was no accident how she chose to wear her wardrobe. Nothing like a nice set of tits to test the discipline of a bunch of horny wanna-be spacemen.
"Present arm!" she belted out, her bosom bouncing slightly as she did so.
The cadet whipped out his ‘pistol’, for inspection, with military precision. The captain reached down, running a gloved finger along the shaft of the weapon. The white finger was free of smudges. Taking hold of the handle, she pivoted it from side to side to check for any unnatural curving. She lifted it up to check the magazine, tilted it down to check the sights. Satisfied, she knelt down and placed the bulbous barrel between her lips.
Cockman closed his eyes as his superior's superb mouth began to 'check the charge on his ray gun'. Bunny Benover hadn't gotten the nickname of Cap'n Cocksucker for nothing. Cadets who came under her command would also cum on her command.
Those in her unit said she found a penis preference for she would get their units "inspected" several times a week; and Cockman was one such enlistee. Her frequent fellatio fraternization was unofficially tolerated because she was the daughter of a well-known general. It was also a boost to morale and cadet recruitment. Many young men would sign on for a hitch, just for a chance at receiving a blowjob bonus courtesy of the busty blonde captain.
Cockman chanced a glance down to watch the master a work.
"Eyes fwunt, Cabet!" she mumbled around her mouthful. For the next several minutes, the only sounds in the room were the ticking of a wall chronometer and sucking noises. At length she released him long enough to gasp out, "At ease!"
Cockman went in parade rest stance with his feet shoulder-width apart, and hands clasped behind his back. Now they could both enjoy the inspection and he looked down. He was rewarded with the sight of her red lips raking down the length of his cock. She looked up at him, her blue eyes now twinkling with lust as she began to suck him harder, her cheeks hallowed and lips stretched around his girth. Her gripped tightened as she practically fucked her face with his cock. She backed off gasping, a strand of spit stringing from his tip to her lips.
"Enjoying your inspection?" she asked huskily, swirling her tongue around his head.
"Ye-Yes, Ma'am!" he gasped as she teased his tip.
"Well, I'm afraid this will be your last for a while," she sighed, sucking him for nearly a full minute before she continued, "You've been reassigned to a patrol squadron."
"I understand, Ma'am," he answered, his voice a mix of excitement and disappointment. He had always dreamed of being a rocket pilot, but he was also going to miss getting his pipes cleaned on a regular basis.
"And since this will be our last session and your service..." she said, giving his cock an appreciative lick, "...has been exemplary, I've decided to give you a proper sendoff."
"Not necessary, Ma'am. It has been an honor and a privilege to serve under your command."
"Be that as it may, I believe you deserve a reward for service above and beyond the call of duty."
Standing, she leaned up to shove her tongue in his mouth.
To say that Cockman was surprised would have been the understatement of the twenty-second century. Despite the literal dozens of times she had blown him, she had never once kissed him or any other cadet, as far as he knew. Nevertheless, he responded as any healthy male would, by kissing her back, his hands encircling her waist to pull her closer.
Her hands, meanwhile, reached to slowly unzip her tunic. When the zipper reached her navel, her sizable tits fell out of the flimsy garment. Breaking the kiss, she offered one to him and he took the ruddy nipple into his mouth, his tongue playing across the hardened tip. He reached up to caress and squeeze as he pulled more of her tender flesh in. Bunny ran her hands through his dark hair, moaning as he moved to mouth the other tit.
Her manicured fingers tugged at the zipper of his jacket; he shrugged out of it as she fumbled with his belt, his lips still glued to her tits. His pants dropped in a heap around his heavy space boots. By now her tits were practically coated with his saliva, glistening in the bright overhead lighting.
Pulling him up into a kiss, she quickly shed her own slacks. Cockman noted with a smile deep in the corners of his mouth that she had gone commando for the occasion as she shimmied her round ass onto the edge of the desk, a sweep of her arm clearing it so that she could lay back. Her legs spread out and up, invitingly; her hands rubbing up and down her inner thighs. Cockman could see she was already dripping as she addressed him.
"Drop and give me twenty, Cadet!" she said breathlessly.
Cockman dropped to his knees, burying his face in her sex. He mouthed her puffy flesh, his tongue sinking deep inside her hole. She moaned, grabbing his head to force his face deeper. He began to finger her, first one digit, then two as his tongue slid across her clit in waves, pinging her radar over and over. His fingers hit her little red button and she howled like a 20th century air raid siren. Cockman kept going, his mouth and fingers flanking her trench line.
"Oh, God! Oh, eat my Twat, baby!" she hissed through clenched teeth, grinding her slit in his mouth. Her dirty talk turned him on and he redoubled his efforts, furiously fingering her, his teeth savagely pulling at her clit. She was writhing and screaming, cursing at him to eat her alive. At exactly the twenty minute mark, she commanded he stand down, her body still convulsing from his gratuitous feasting. She recovered, then sat up.
As he stood, she leaned forward, and reached both hands around his neck then pulled him down to her, crushing her lips to his as she pulled him on top of her.
"Fuck me, Curt!" she begged. Cockman’s arms were extended down to the surface of the desk. Captain Benover’s legs were wrapped around his naked ass.
Again, Cockman was surprised. He didn't think she knew he even had a first name, let alone what it was. He was also now fully aware of what it was he was being offered. As the name would suggest, Captain Cocksucker was pretty liberal with her mouth but was very conservative with her cunt. You could probably count on one hand the number of men who'd gotten to pound her Twat. Now Cockman was literally being allowed entrance into that illustrious group, and his cock stiffened further at the thought that he was about to bone the infamous Bunny Benover.
He stood erect and slipped his hardness slowly into her soft folds, Bunny whimpering as he buried himself in her box. He began to pump gently, savoring her tight twat. His large cock seemed to stretch her hole as he stabbed into her a couple times forcefully. She pushed him back, now draping her legs over his shoulders as she sighed out a command.
"Double time, Cadet!"
Grabbing her waist, Cockman began thrusting and was soon slamming into her, hard enough to make her tits bounce with each impact. He wrapped an arm around each thigh and used her legs to leverage firm thrust into her wet hot crotch. He spread her legs wide so he could look down, wanting a mental picture of his “Cockman's Brand Sausage” slipping into her sweet bun. The captain was grunting, squeezing and pinching her tits as the cadet bored her canal good.
She pushed him off her and turned away. True to her namesake, she stood, then rotated and bent over the desk, reaching down to spread her labia with two fingers, signaling him for reentry. Cockman wasted no time in landing his missile back into her silo. Grasping her thick hips, he launched his warhead at her target repeatedly, tightly packing her torpedo tube for a good five minutes before fatigue set in.
Feeling his cartridge firmly lodged in the chamber, he slowed his assault on her rearguard. He wanted to make this momentous mounting last. Bunny was wailing, his massive ICBM sending red alerts to her control center.
After another ten minutes of giving her a D that was not silent, the urge to pop flare became too great. Per standing orders, he notified his C O of his pending need for extraction. Shoving him away, she slid off and sank to her knees, then spun around to swallow his now overly sensitive member. She slobbered his schlong, her blond head bouncing on his boner.
Slipping off for a moment, she offered; "You wanna cum in my mouth, baby?" she cooed. It would be another first for Cockman.
"Uh huh!" he croaked, his legs trembling.
She shifted into full slut mode, slamming his cock to the back of her throat. Taking hold of his ass, she gagged herself, coughed around his cock as it sank deeper still. He felt ignition, barely blurting out a warning as his booster rockets fired.
Like the professional cocksucker she was, Bunny didn't bat an eyelash, sinfully swallowing his spaceman spunk. Cockman groaned as he emptied his balls into her guzzling gullet. Captain Benover slowly pulled him out of her throat just long enough to exhale, then draw another nasal breath. Then she pressed her mouth against his furry pelvis and took his rod beck down her throat again. This went on for a couple minutes, her tongue rubbing his frenulum rhythmically. She didn't cease her sucking until his thoroughly deflated dong fell from her sore lips.
Cockman looked down at his cumslut of a commanding officer. A bead of seminal fluid trickled from her lips as she dreamily smiled up at him.
'Man, the guys back in the barracks would never believe me', he thought to himself as she rose to kiss him full on the mouth. He could taste his jizz on her invasive tongue.
"Don't be a stranger, Cadet," she whispered, stroking his manhood once more.
Cadet Cockman exited the office a couple of minutes later.
A sandy haired sergeant sat in the anteroom. His hands shot from under the desk to hurriedly flip a switch on the vidphone on his desk. All the same, Cockman was still able to make out the split-second image of the interior of Bunny's office on the screen.
'I'll have to ask for a copy of that tape,' he thought wickedly as he headed for the mess hall, suddenly ravenous.
The Transfer.
The reflective hull of the X-23 gleamed in the noonday sun as its launch platform was towed from the hangar, the parting doors giving the phallic-shaped spacecraft the suggestion of spreading the lips of a giant silver cunt. The ship measured sixty meters from tip to turbo booster, its fuselage nearly cylindrical for most of that length. Unlike most modern spacecraft, the X-23 was outfitted with a set of wings and tailfins. These would be useless in the airless vacuum of space but when combined with the powerful engines, the plane-like design would allow the craft to take off and land without requiring an orbital booster.
It was also one of the first fighters equipped with a hyperspace drive. This addition meant that it could be more accurately classified as a starship, rather than a mere spaceship, since it could travel between distant stars without the need to be tied to a heavier cruiser or frigate.
But the feature that truly made the X-23 stand out were the neat rows of studs along its fuselage. Each of these grapefruit-sized half spheres contained a small thruster and these could be fired in sequence to perform any number of precise maneuvers in the frictionless void of space. The egg-shaped cockpit where the two pilots sat only added to the ship's unofficial motto: 'Ribbed for her pleasure.'
Cadet Cockman hung back a safe distance to watch the launch platform incline the craft to the required forty-five-degree angle. Soon it stood like a giant winged dildo ready to penetrate the wild blue yonder.
Feeling a slap on the shoulder, Cockman turned to find Cadet Billy Haney standing next to him. The two had gone through the Academy together and Bill was now in charge of the ground crew for the flight squadron. It felt good for Cockman to know that his soon to be fighter was in good, if a bit neurotic, hands.
"How's it hanging', Cockman?" Bill said, shaking hands with the much taller man.
"Long, lean and to the left," Cockman deadpanned but then both of them burst into laughter at the inside joke.
"Ain't she a beauty?" beamed the other, gesturing to the ship. Cockman nodded knowingly.
"A fine ship if I ever saw one."
"Ever fly her?"
"Only sim," Cockman admitted timidly.
"No worries, CC. She ain't much different from the twenty-two unless you count the jump drive. Besides, wasn't it you who bagged Sheila Neutrino our senior year? Anyone who can handle that hydrazine in heels can certainly handle this baby."
Bill playfully punched in pal in the arm. The mention of Sheila brought up fond memories of giving her the 'Cockman Special' in the null-g simulator.
"Who's my co-pilot?" Cockman asked, shaking the image of zero-g jugs from his mind as a set of stairs was wheeled up to the spacecraft, "You met him yet?"
"Here she comes now, as a matter of fact," Bill said, staring at the far end of the tarmac.
"She?" Cockman asked, following his gaze.
The approaching figure was still far enough away that the heat rising from the flattop distorted the image. As it grew closer, the curving waves stopped wavering and stayed curvy. She wore an outfit similar to Captain Benover but with the tunic fully zipped to the wide collar. In spite of that, the tight-fitting uniform could not conceal the fact that she was generously round in all the right places. She walked with a military cadence, her hips swaying and bosom bouncing slightly with each step. Cockman saw a cadet behind her nearly wreck the cargo mover he was driving, so intent was he in looking at what could only be assumed was a very nice ass.
The advancing hottie was also different from Bunny in that instead of blond hair and tanned skin, this babe had blue skin and purple hair which was tied back into a tight regulation bun. A Venusian, Cockman realized. She had on mirrored aviators' glasses and as she neared, he peeped the lieutenant pips on her collar. Both he and Bill snapped to attention.
"As you were," she said as she reached up to remove the shades. The voice had an almost musical quality to it and Cockman remembered reading somewhere about Venusian vocal harmonies. He also noted that her fingers were partially webbed and had no nails. Her heart shaped mouth was as dark and full as a bushel of fresh blueberries
But it was the eyes that really drew his attention. They were the type you got lost in, such a deep shade of green they looked like two emerald circlets floating in a clear blue sky.
"Cadet Cockman, I'd like to introduce you to Lieutenant Eza LuNar," Bill said with the emphasis on 'nar', "She'll be your astrogator for the flight."
"Ma'am," Cockman said, nodding. Those lovely green eyes looked him up and down, an unimpressed look on her bluish face.
"You are my pilot?" she harrumphed.
'Oh boy', he thought as he said, "Yes, Ma'am."
"How much flight time do you have, Cadet?" she asked indifferently.
"Over fifteen hundred hours, Ma'am." He wasn't about to tell her that some of that time was spent giving a new meaning to the term 'cockpit'. She eyed him up and down again, perhaps a bit differently this time, he noticed and then turned to Bill.
"Are we ready for a system check, Cadet?" she lisped.
"Ready as she'll ever be, Ma'am," he replied smartly.
When the lieutenant turned her back of the pair to move towards the ship, Bill silently got Cockman's attention, making hour glass motions in the air with his hands as he mouthed the word 'wow!'. They followed after her and as they neared, Cockman spotted on the side of the cockpit a cartoon Venusian in a Pinup girl pose, riding side saddle on an even more conspicuously phallic shaped rocket. The string bikini she wore barely covered her overly large blue tits and she was winking suggestively as she saluted. He grimaced as he red the caption beneath: 'Feels so good even a Venus girl will like it!'
Lieutenant LuNar halted when she too noticed the caricature and glared at Bill, her green eyes sparking with anger.
"I'll have that removed at the next servicing Ma'am," he gulped.
"See that you do, Cadet," she hissed.
They came to the foot of the stairs and Bill motioned for them to ascend. As was customary, the lieutenant went first with Cockman following a step or two behind her. He was okay with the arrangement since he gave me a chance to check out what was indeed a nice round ass as they climbed. Near the top of the stairs, the Venusian's heel came down on a smear of grease that had been carelessly left on a tread. Her foot slipped from under her and she fell back with a yelp of surprise.
Cockman's strong arm shot out, catching the full weight of her beneath her shoulder blades, his left hand grasping the railing to keep them both from falling. Lieutenant LuNar's flailing limbs wrapped around his neck. Their faces were very close and they stared into each other's eyes for a moment. From this close, he saw that her eyes were in fact not completely green but streaked with bands of gold. The pupils were also partially slitted, dilating as he looked into them.
"Tha-thank you, Cadet," she said breathlessly.
"My pleasure, Lieutenant."
He smiled down at her and saw her skin darken, wondering if it were the Venusian equivalent of blushing. She seemed to all at once remember where they were and composed herself as Cockman helped her to her feet.
"See that you have these stairs cleaned properly, Cadet!" she yelled at Bill.
"Yes, Ma'am!" he replied with a crisp salute.
Once the lieutenant was safely onboard, Cockman turned to Bill to wave farewell. The cocky cadet returned the gesture before leaning over to emulate the former's dramatic rescue, complete with exaggerated kissy faces and tongue action. Cockman just shook his head, giving his buddy the one finger salute as he ducked into the hatch.
The flight check took about ten minutes to complete. Cockman was impressed with the lieutenant's seemingly eidetic memory as she rattled off the list after just one glance at the onboard copy. Despite their rough, if rather pleasant, start on the stairs, the two were working in fluid concert with one another.
At one point, however, when the Venusian called for stirring the O2 tanks, they both reached for the switch which lay between their seats. LuNar's hand landed atop his and was very soft and very warm. He had heard the rumor that because they were partly reptilian, Venusian skin felt cold and snake-like. This was decidedly not that case as their eyes met. The touch lingered for a beat but then she blushed again, sheepishly withdrawing her hand. He smiled as he racked the plunger.
With the checklist at last complete, the pair strapped into their acceleration chairs as Cockman radioed flight control.
"Control, this is Raptor 7 reporting all systems are go, over."
"Roger that, Raptor 7, you are cleared for launch, over."
Cockman reached out to hit the ignition switch. The pair were forced back into their seats as three blue white jets of flame shot from the rear of the craft, charring the tarmac as the craft slid slowly from its berth. At the same instant, landing jets on the underside fired to keep the nose up until its wings could catch air. They arched up and away from the airfield at an ever-increasing velocity. Leveling off at a thousand feet, Cockman cut the landing jets and took up the yoke, angling the craft upward and rapidly gaining altitude.
As they were passing into the jet steam, the ship was buffeted by severe wind shear. Lieutenant LuNar's hand shot out to grasp his arm and he noted she had a pretty strong grip for such delicate looking fingers. She at last let go, refusing to look him in the eye as the turbulence subsided.
The blue curve of the sky gradually faded, replaced with the velvet black curtain of space. At the required altitude, Cockman hit the afterburners. They were pressed even further into their seats, their bodies now experiencing well over three gees of acceleration.
Cockman's strong arms strained to control the craft. They felt weighted with lead and he heaved to force air into his compressed lungs. While the thrust would only last a few minutes, to his mind it felt like an eternity. Finally, they crossed the Karman line, the invisible barrier to space. Cutting the main engine, they settled into an orbit. The sun, its light no longer refracted by atmosphere, blazed into view in the firmament.
Cockman turned to his co-pilot. She was panting, holding the straps of her harness tightly and he wondered if this was her first ground take-off.
"You okay, lieutenant?" She noticed him watching and immediately straightened up, primming her hair as she did so.
"Quite alright, Cadet," she said somewhat arrogantly, perhaps as a cover for her lost composer.
'Man, this is gonna be a long flight' he thought to himself as he radioed the fast-approaching space station for permission to dock.
Arrival
The twenty-two-hour flight time was actually relatively short compared to what they could have been saddled with. They could have, for instance, been stuck with the Kuiper Belt run at nearly two weeks round trip. As it was, Cockman grew bored pretty quickly since after programming the computer to send the ship on a precisely calculated elliptic path around the sunward side of Venus, there was very little for him to do. Such was the tedium of intra-space travel. Half the time you are sitting around staring at a black viewpoint dotted with unmoving stars and only when near a large celestial body do you realize you're even moving.
Life as a Space Ranger is not as glamorous as that depicted in all those tri-di vids in which the hero always defeats some alien or human menace while also finding the time to bed down some buxom beauty. The reality is that it involves a great deal of downtime and Cockman was kicking himself for not bringing that copy of Astro-Girl monthly.
Then again, given his current company, the dirty telezine probably wouldn't have been appropriate no matter how interesting the articles may have been. Thinking of that perky pictorial, he chanced a peek at his companion. She was engrossed in a holopad she had brought with. She sat with her shapely legs crossed at the knee, looking down at the pad in her lap. He, meanwhile, was engrossed in the rise and fall of her tits as she breathed in the filtered air of the cabin.
She almost caught him looking and he feigned as if he were checking their course. His burgeoning boner sent secondary signals to his bladder. He slapped the release button on his chest, his now freed body floating effortlessly as he pulled himself along the corridor to the restroom. It wasn't the most graceful method of travel but it sure beat trying to walk in magna-boots on the grated metal floor.
The restroom was little more than a coffin-sized cubicle with various hoses and attachments for evacuating waste in a weightless environment. Cockman picked up one of the specially designed male urination cups and noticed that someone had painted a bright red set of lips on the lip of the cup. He shook his head, remembering the rumor that some sex starved cadets liked to use them as masturbatory aids. He didn't see the appeal since even at full suction, it just didn't compare to the real deal. All the same, he attached a fresh cup, slipping his semi-hard manhood through the membrane.
Just as he was shaking the dew off the space lily, a bright red light began flashing overhead as a warning klaxon howled. He flung himself out of the alcove, his shoulders hitting the far bulkhead as he fumbled his cock back into his pants. He launched himself with a heavy kick towards the cockpit, checking his speed so as to not to crash headlong into the forward view screen.
"Whar da we go?!"
"Proximity alarm!" LuNar shouted over her shoulder, her hands working to silence said alarm, "Looks like a rogue micro-meteor shower. Scanners did not pick it up until just now."
Cockman swung his body into his seat and quickly strapped in as he demanded: "Where's the swarm?"
LuNar checked the scope, the light casting greenish rings around her eyes as she rattled off bearing and heading. Cockman checked their own course and found that the swarm would cross their path any second.
"Fifteen seconds to impact!" LuNar shouted, letting him know the exact second.
"Let's see if we can get past it. Firing main engines in three...two...one!"
He hit the switch and the ship lurched forward. For an instant the pair were shoved back into their seats, holding onto their harness straps as the spacecraft shuddered. Seconds later, a tumultuous series of booms and pings resounded up from the rear of the craft.
Suddenly the ship was spinning wildly with only one of the main tubes still firing. The pair were pulled sideways in their harnesses, the yellow orb of the sun disappearing and reappearing rapidly in the forward pickup. A different warning klaxon started blaring.
"We've been hit!" he roared, realizing it was obvious. "Engaging inertial thrusters!"
Out on the hull, the thruster studs began firing quick, two-second bursts. Cockman worked frantically, switching between X, Y and Z axes to check their spin. After several tense minutes, the craft finally settled. The fluid in his brain was still spinning as he turned to check on LuNar.
She was a wreck. She was hyperventilating, her eyes closed and her face a few shades paler than normal. The grip on her harness was so tight that her knuckles almost turned white.
"You, okay?" he asked her. She didn't respond, "Lieutenant?!"
She turned startled at this shout and he could see the fear on her face. But as their eyes met, she seemed grow calm almost immediately. Her gripped loosened and she took a cleansing breath.
"I am alright," she said as she straightened up, "What is our status?"
Cockman checked the instrument panel, flipping switches and toggles as he did so.
"Main engines are offline but we still have thrusters, though just barely. O2 is holding at eighty-one percent."
He thanked the heavens that their life support was still functioning as he snatched up the hand mic for the radio.
"Mayday, Mayday! Control, this is Raptor 7, do you read, over?!"
There was nothing but background static from the speaker. He tried again and still got no response, hanging up the mic in disgust.
"Damn, radios out too. Meteor must have got the antennae." He sighed with exasperation, "I'm going to have to go outside and see what I can do."
"Is that advisable this close to Sol?" she asked worriedly. Already the cabin was starting to heat up. Apparently, the refrigeration system was down too. It would be worse outside, even in an insulated spacesuit.
"Don't worry, I'll walk you through how to work the thrusters to keep me in the ship's shadow. As long as I'm not out there too long, it should be alright."
He took a moment to familiarize LuNar with the thruster system before heading to the airlock.
Ten minutes later he was standing on the hull in a bulky spacesuit, the soles of his feet secured to the metal by magnets and a nylon tether leading back to the airlock. He kept to the cooler shadows, shuffling his feet to keep the soles in contact with the shiny metal. Walking in magna-boots is not the easiest skill the master. You have to be actively conscious of your steps or you'll wind up flat on your face.
Threading his way between the rows of studs, he neared the damaged tail section. It looked like it had been pelted with enormous buckshot, golf-ball sized wholes everywhere. He checked the main engine, finding dents and tears in the deflector plates and manifold.
'Damn,' he thought bitterly, 'I can't do shit out here.'
"Bad news, LT," he said, keying his helmet mic, "We took it up the rear pretty badly. Gonna have'ta set her down somewhere if we hope to have any chance at repairs."
"There is a more pressing problem, Cadet," came the tinny reply in his earpiece, "I have calculated our trajectory. If we do not do something in the next hour and thirty-seven minutes, we are going to crash into the Sun!"
Options
The cockpit of the X-23 was growing unbearably hot. It was now fifty-three minutes until the silvery dildo would plunge into the nuclear hot vagina of Sol and be snuffed out before the head was even in fully.
Cadet Cockman was finding it hard to think straight, his brain being fried my cosmic rays. It hurt to breath; the air was so sweltering. Sweat stung his eyes and he wiped a bare arm across his forehead. He had shed his tunic some thirty minutes before, not that it had helped any. Sol loomed larger in the viewport like a UV lamp set to flambé.
"What are...our options...again?" came a pant from beside him. He turned to regard his partner. She was fanning herself with her holopad, her face beaded with sweat. Her tunic was unzipped to just under her tits and he had a good view of sky-blue cleavage.
'At least I get to look a nice set of knockers as I knock off,' he thought to himself as he answered, his own breathing labored.
"Main engines are still...offline...thrusters won't pull us free...of the gravity well."
It was an effort just to get out that short sentence. He heard the lieutenant sigh and looked her over again, wondering if he should offer to jump her bones one good time. His heat stressed mind thought how funny the phrase sounded. For some reason, it focused on the word 'jump'. Suddenly he sat up, his mind starting to clear.
The jump drive!
"Lieutenant, is the hyper drive still online?!" he asked excitedly. She turned her head with visible effort to look at the panel.
"Yes, why?"
"I just had a crazy idea."
"No use, navigational computer is down," she pointed out.
"Don't need it. Those HS drives have their own built-in computers and sensors. We just point our nose at random and punch it."
What the cadet said was indeed true. The onboard AI would prevent them from dropping out of sub-space inside of a planetary body, the default Emergence point being set to five hundred thousand miles.
"So, we just become irretrievably lost instead?" she asked sardonically.
"Not necessarily," he was saying, already flipping switches to swing the ship around, "We shoot a radio beacon towards Venus with our position, heading and flight time. Kind of like a trail of breadcrumbs to follow. Hopefully, we can find a M-class to set down on while we wait for rescue."
The Venusian perked up then, understanding his idea further. She then began programming the beacon as she said, "You are correct, this is crazy."
"Better crazy and alive than cooked like a tin of popping corn," he retorted.
Twenty searingly hot minutes later, the probe that would carry their digital message in a bottle was launched Venus ward. A breakout timer was set for fifteen minutes. They had settled on aiming their ship toward a star that they assumed to be Sirius and with fingers crossed, hit the button together.
Now travel through hyperspace is quite different than through normal space. In the latter, mass ejection through the burning of solid fuels or the breakdown of atomic particles is used to generate thrust, a force which can be felt even if only marginally so. The speed of light also remains constant in normal space.
However, inside the field generated by a Lanier hyper drive, the physical constants of the universe do not apply. The laws of Einstein are neither broken nor bent, simply ignored. Relativity goes out the window, time becomes mere a subjective concept for those traveling through that fluidic ether space. It's one of the inventions that has allow residents of the Sol system to travel the vast distances between stars that would otherwise take multi-generational ships.
When they had pressed the button, the stars and sun in the pickups had winked out. There was now only an interminable blackness. It was the blackest black that man had ever experienced. It was the exact opposite of the universe; it was the absence of everything. The only thing that was felt was the brief sensation of uneasiness that always accompanied R-shift and was said to be more psychological than physical.
And when the timer ended and the universe clicked back into existence, it seemed as if they hadn't moved at all, a bright yellow sun still burning in the viewport. But a quick check found that its radio frequency did not match with Sol's. It was another star, the center of another system of planets.
Now out of immediate danger, the shipmates set about figuring out their location. Consulting star charts, they were able to determine the G-type star to be CarterD2007 some four and a half lightyears from the Sol system. It was named after the scout ship captain who had discovered it nearly three Terran years ago. Carter II, the second planet, was listed as M-class and though it had been flagged for colonization by Planetary Survey, there was a notation about unpredictable weather due to the unstable sun.
Lieutenant LuNar, having zipped up her tunic, hit a button and Carter II appeared on screen. One could immediately mistake the green and blue marble for Earth, but the shape of the landmasses was unfamiliar. It was there only option, so Cockman, also back in uniform, guided the craft, taking nearly five hours to cross the five hundred thousand miles. They at last entered orbit around their would-be haven.
"Not going to lie, LT," Cockman said as he tightened his harness straps, "We're in for a rough landing without the main engines."
"Do you think you can do it, Cadet?" she asked nervously.
"Yes, Ma'am!" he said, wishing he felt as confident as he sounded.
"Let us go down on, Cockman," she replied. Her improper grammar had him thinking something else as he angled the ship toward the rim of the planet.
To be continued in part 2, based on a post by x sociate23, for Literotica.