Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Behind Enemy Lines

   Copyright (c) 2008 by deGaffer
CONTENT: oral MF MFF ScFi

   Chapter 3: Getting There

   The first jump was tedious for everyone from the Commodore down to the
concubine of Private Smith, the newest crewman aboard the Sir Galahad.  Not
even Colonel Murphy had ever been in hyperspace for three straight months.
Each ship was in a universe of its own, completely out of touch with
everything beyond the FTL bubble that surrounded each ship.

   Routine became ritual as the individuals, partners, and crews fought
boredom.

   Aboard the Sir Galahad Lieutenant Geraldine Timmons was getting
irritable, mostly from an itchy clit.

   "Carson!" Lt.  Timmons shouted at the retreating marine.  "Get your
squad ready for descent and ascent drill in the central column, five
minutes."

   SSG Carson turned and saluted, "Yes, Ma'am."

   Timmons returned the salute.  She felt bad about taking her frustrations
out on Carson.  It wasn't his fault that she was the only Marine officer
aboard this tub, except for that goofy egghead Wallace.  God, she really
wished she could have brought a second stud along on this stupid outing. 
Rush Katchka was good, but she was used to more variety.  She longed for a
threesome with two studs, but wasn't about the bed any of the squids on
this boat.  Maybe she should try to develop an interest in that geeky
astronomer after all?

   The astronomer in question, Ensign Mark Wallace, had been almost comical
when he'd reported to Timmons and given her his card.  She was the senior
Marine officer on board and it was customary for newly assigned officers to
leave their card at the residence of the commanding officer.  It was a
tradition so old that Timmons wasn't even aware of its existence.

   Carson banged on the hatch at the entrance of the enlisted quarters for
his squad, "Let's go, ladies!  Down and up the Swarm hole, five minutes."
No one knew what would be found underground on a Sa'arm world.  The
self-tunneling penetrators rarely got around a set of blast doors before
being cut off by Sa'arm and forced to self-destruct.  They figured the
worst-case would be a hole that went straight down; so, the squad was
getting into shape to repel down a well and climb back out again.

   Aboard the Hurst Castle Sgt.  Adams looked into the startling blue eyes
of Hanna, or was it Janna?  The two were physically identical and only
slightly different in personality and preferences.  "How about you and I go
somewhere quiet and practice making babies?"

   Hanna asked, "Are you sure we need to go somewhere?" She reached for the
closure in Adams' trousers.

   Janna asked Mathews as she reached for his groin as well, "Can we
practice with them?"

   Adams intercepted Hanna; "We might put someone off their appetites if we
fuck in here.  How about that game you invented for the weight bench,
Hanna? Let's go see if the gymnasium is available."

   Both Hanna and Janna jumped up and down and clapped.  This would give
each of them a chance to have two cocks at the same time, and maybe a third
depending upon who was in the gym.

   Similar distractions of a sexual nature were being played out in the
other three ships during the boring three-month voyage deep into
Sa'arm-controlled space.

   None were more creative than the ones dreamed up by the Marines aboard
the Sir Galahad.

   They had rigged a variation of 'The Singapore Sling' in the gymnasium.

   Corporal Ralph Sewell's concubine Thi Mai is the undisputed champion of
'sit-and-spin' forcing Sewell to spot others as much as two-and-a-half
rotations.

   The woman would don a fall-arrest harness with the elastic line attached
to a pulley in the overhead.  The pivot-man would lie on the floor and the
suspended woman would be lowered onto his fleshy lance.  The elastic shock
cord made it real easy for her to bounce straight up and down with a hard
cock in her twat.

   The supine contestant got one shot at spinning the girl on his slick
shaft.  The number of revolutions without losing contact determined the
winner.  Mai could tuck in tight and grip the flare of Sewell's cock with
the muscles at her entrance and typically make eleven revolutions. 
Fourteen and a half was her personal record with Ralph.

   Thi Mai was a hundred-forty-seven centimeters tall and looked like she
was about twelve-years-old, but she could manage to take Sewell's thick,
twenty-three centimeter shaft in all three of her holes.  She had a flat
chest and hairless body.  The dark, almond shaped eyes on her pixie face
could penetrate any defense.  Her hair was such a shiny black that it had a
violet sheen.

   Tucking in tight with the vagina the center of rotational mass is not as
easy as it sounds.  But Mai and Sewell had countless hours of practice and
the contestants fell to them one-by-one.

   Their closest competition was Corporal Walter Fitzgerald and his blonde
gymnast Betty.  At a hundred-sixty-eight centimeters, Betty was
considerably taller than Mai.  And her proudly protruding B-cup breasts
threw her center of rotation off, forcing Betty to arch her back and not
tuck quite as tightly as Mai, but she could get ten revolutions on four out
of five attempts.

   Betty loved to be the center of attention and was very proud of her
trim, athletic body.  She would flash her thick, honey-colored bush every
chance she got.  Her pale blue eyes would absolutely sparkle when she could
best Mai at 'sit-and-spin'.

   But even this game was getting old by the time the ship finally emerged
from hyperspace.  There wasn't much to look at even when the FTL fields
collapsed.  They emerged from the shimmering warp field into the deep black
of nowhere.  The nearest star to any of the ships was three light-years
away.

   After the Farnham Castle emerged from being in hyperspace for three
months Commander Sandra O'Donnell took a reading of the ship's position
using the navigation telescopes; then took another hyper-accurate sighting
of three stars with unique spectral signatures and verified that the
Farnham Castle was three light-months out of position.  This discrepancy
would not look good on her resume, but before digging into the how and why
of it, she reported their actual position to Lieutenant Colonel Delano.

   "Navigator to bridge," O'Donnell said to no one present where she sat.

   "Go ahead, navigator," Came the equally nonexistent voice in her head.

   O'Donnell took a deep breath, "Captain, we're way out of position coming
out of that long jump.  Along with giving the adjusted position to the
sensor array, we need to recalibrate the FTL drive before the next jump."

   "Damn," Delano muttered, not intending the AI to forward that to
O'Donnell.  "Very well, navigator, make it so and follow up with how we can
avoid this in the future."

   "Aye, Captain," she replied cursing to herself.

   Fifty light-years away Col.  Murphy smiled when Commander Brenner
confirmed that the Hurst Castle was twenty-seven minutes out of position.
"Add our position fix to the supraluminal message drone and dispatch it to
Sir Galahad's scheduled position," Murphy ordered.

   Two-and-a-half days later the drone was back, not only with confirmation
of their orders, but also with messages that the Sir Galahad had received
for the fleet from Dothan.  Personal messages from home were typically a
morale booster for every member of the crew.

   The next day Colonel Murphy ordered that the data collected so far be
packaged up and retransmitted to the Sir Galahad with the 'failure to
deliver' return address their next scheduled position.

   Things were not quite as relaxed aboard the Lancaster Castle and the Sir
Galahad when they emerged from the three-month trip.  Each ship was a bit
over six hours out of position.  It was not enough to be at risk of running
over something or missing contact with supraluminal drones, but enough to
generate frowns on their captain's faces when their positions were
reported.

   ----

   Everything was progressing as planned through the next two stops.  None
of the ships emerged from the next set of short hyperspace transitions so
much as a light-minute out of position.  The sensors aboard each of the
corvettes were gathering and recording information from scores of stars at
each stop.  As the Sir Galahad prepared to enter hyperspace for the fourth
time since leaving Truman, they had collected observations from at least
two angles for each of the hundreds of stars in their new database.

   Aboard the Sir Galahad Commodore Jason Achord had joined the captain of
the flagship, Lieutenant Colonel Joseph Collins, in the CIC.  The two men
were reviewing the data that had been collected so far.

   Collins was briefing Achord; "We are currently located here, about 120
parsecs, or 390 light-years from Earth near the central core of the Orion
Spur.  We've collected data on several hundred stars that have planetary
systems.  We may still be on the edge of Sa'arm space, we may be at their
core, or we may have possibly gone right through to the far side of their
domain.  Our AI's have no data to support or dispute any of the three
hypotheses.  We've seen no evidence of movement, but we've stayed too far
away from planetary systems to detect Sa'arm ships entering or leaving
hyperspace."

   They were on their third 'skip' within Sa'arm space, not counting the
long jump from Truman.  They were headed for their fourth stop within what
was believed to be Sa'arm territory.  "Show me our current positions on the
hologram." The star chart seemed to rise off of the table into the air
above the flat surface.  Four bright green dots flashed in the center of
the map.  "Now highlight the stars that have at least a ninety percent
probability of planets with heavy metals that are within fifty light-years
of our next stop."

   Forty-seven dots began flashing.  "Let's trim it to ninety-five percent,
if you please, George." The ship's AI, George, updated the display using
the new criteria, and the two men studied the pattern of dots for a moment.

   Lt-Col.  Collins pointed to systems that were along their general
course, "These twelve are within thirty parsecs of each other.  Unless
something better presents itself, I suggest we cruise through them and see
what we can see."

   Commodore Achord sighed and nodded agreement, "It's as good a place to
start as any.  Let's have Farnham take these four." Achord pointed to a
progression of stars.  "Send Hurst to these four and send Lancaster to
investigate this grouping.  Will you please communicate the appropriate
instructions along with our projected normal-space drifting coordinates and
schedule for the next four periods to the three ships, George?"

   The ship's AI replied.  "The instructions will be forwarded as soon as
communications are established in normal space."

   "Thank you, George," Achord replied.  "I'll be in my quarters."

   Frieda greeted Commodore Achord as he entered his pod.  She brought him
a dry vodka martini with three olives and knelt at his feet.  Frieda looked
like a Nordic opera singer, only not as heavy.  She had a golden blonde
braid that reached her coccyx and a thick trapezoid of blonde curls above
her plump labia.  She was completely nude and displayed her D-cup chest and
flat abdomen proudly.

   Achord took a sip of his martini before leaning forward to kiss Frieda.
He put the long stemmed glass on the small table next to his elbow and
nodded at Frieda.  She smiled as she reached to unfasten his trousers and
retrieve his swelling cock.  She leaned over his lap and began bobbing her
mouth up and down his length, taking him into her throat on every third
stroke.

   Achord sighed, picked up his drink, and took another sip as he watched
Frieda work her magic on his shaft.  He had enough control to remain
detached but interested for the next thirty or forty minutes while he
watched her.  Frieda had tremendous stamina for cock sucking.  She didn't
start breaking into a sweat until she had been hard at it for thirty
minutes or more.  Achord wasn't going to make her work that hard this
evening.  He drained his glass and set it aside.  Frieda was watching and
knew what he wanted.  When he leaned back and closed his eyes, she dove on
his cock and swallowed repeatedly until she felt the head swell.  She then
backed off enough to be able to swirl her tongue around the tip until she
felt the first blast hit the roof of her mouth.  When she had milked that
last feeble spurt, she let her lips slid off the tip, and sat back smiling.

   "Very nice," Achord complimented her.  "Now, help me up from this chair
and out of my clothes.  I think we'll have a nice fuck and a shower before
we eat dinner." Frieda sprang to her feet to happily comply with his
instructions.

   Lieutenant Timmons had finally given into temptation and began spending
time in CIC or the wardroom where Ensign Wallace could typically be found.
Over coffee one day she finally lost patience and asked, "Why are you
always avoiding the Marine areas of the ship?  Are you too smart and
sophisticated to be hanging out with us grunts?"

   Wallace blushed and had trouble speaking, "No, I ... I don't fit in.  I
have no combat experience and only the minimum combat training.  Why would
any of you want to socialize with the likes of me?"

   "Are you avoiding combat situations?" Timmons knew Wallace was timid,
but didn't think he was a slacker.

   "No," Wallace replied.  "In fact, I was in line for command of a combat
platoon when I was diverted to this mission.  I'll never get rid of this
gold bar on my collar if I can't get a combat assignment." He looked
pensive and finally worked up the courage to ask, "What's it like to work
with 'real' Marines?"

   Timmons stood and picked up both of their coffee cups and returned them
to the recycler for cleaning.  "Come with me," she told the confused geek
as she left the room.

   Wallace stood and followed Timmons, running to catch up.  Timmons walked
with a long, smooth stride that put a graceful sway to her hips.  Wallace
could have easily become mesmerized by the slight jiggle of her hip
pockets, but shook it off and caught up enough to walk mostly beside her.

   Timmons stuck her head into the gymnasium and was relieved as she
thought, 'Good, it's empty.  I won't have to deal with his bruised ego.'

   When Wallace stepped into the room, Timmons grabbed his arm, pushed her
hip into his and threw him halfway across the room onto a group of exercise
mats.  "Well, at least you know how to fall," Timmons observed as Wallace
slapped the mat and bounced to his feet.

   "I've studied karate and judo since I was six," Wallace said with a
smile.  "You caught me by surprise." He smiled and bowed without taking his
eyes off of her.  "Please, join me on the mats."

   When Timmons shed her shirt and shoes, Wallace quickly did the same. 
For the next thirty minutes the two sparred surprisingly equally until
Timmons began using some of the moves Budzinski had shown her.  Timmons
finally threw Wallace to the mat again, but he swept her feet and she fell
hard onto his hard-on.  Wallace sat up very quickly with his eyes crossed
as all the air escaped from his lungs.

   "Oh, shit!" Timmons exclaimed.  "Do I need to get you an ice pack?"

   The impact had crushed his penis into his lower abdomen, but mercifully
it had not involved his testicles.  When he was again getting oxygen into
his lungs he looked into the deep brown eyes that were full of concern.  On
impulse he pulled her in for a kiss.  Timmons didn't resist.  In fact, she
pulled the light-headed young man on top of her as she stretched out on the
tumbling mats.

   Elsewhere on the Sir Galahad Corporal Miller was teasing Sergeant
Budzinski in the platoon's recreation room as she teamed up with her two
concubines, Roy and Rhonda.  They were not just brother and sister; they
were twins with a passion for bodybuilding.

   Both of Lance Corporal Walter Fitzgerald's concubines were pregnant and
he had worked a deal with Miller where Rhonda was onboard in his concubine
slot.  The deal included considerations for the bisexual orientation of
both Rhonda and Roy, and Miller's frequent need for more than one dick at a
time.

   Miller had not modified either of their heavily muscled bodies very
much. She had only lengthened Roy's dick to eight inches to enable him to
scratch her itch.  Rhonda's appearance and skills had benefited from a few
more changes.  All of the hair was removed from her body, except for the
lush brown crop on her scalp.  Her B-cup breasts were lifted and stabilized
on her muscular chest, and her tongue was lengthened enough to make Gene
envious.  It wasn't long enough for her to be able to lick her eyebrows or
anything like that, but touching the tip of her cute nose was not a
problem.

   "Come on, Ray," she tempted him, "why don't you give me a poke?" She was
squirming on Roy's lap with his dick up her ass while Rhonda was working
over her vagina and clit with her marvelous tongue.  "Sit back and finger
fuck me a bit, Rhonda.  Show him how tight and slick I am."

   "I'm not looking, and don't call me Ray!" Budzinski had a policy against
dipping into members of his own platoon, but had never encountered anyone
as determined as Cynthia Miller.  Budzinski retired to his berth and closed
the hatch.

   Thank heavens he had asked his concubine, Elizabeth, to turn down his
rack.  She was lying on it stark naked.  Her red hair was pulled back from
her face and her green eyes sparkled as she grinned at Budzinski's
discomfort.  She had pale skin with C-cup breasts that normally rode high
on her chest, but as she lay on her back the artificial gravity had the
firm mounds randomly sliding around on her chest with every muscle she
twitched.  An eraser-sized nipple protruded from the center of each mound.
Each dark pink nipple was surrounded by a tightly crinkled areola that also
stood out a bit from the pale flesh it accented.

   Both of Budzinski's other concubines were at home on Demeter with big
bellies.  Denise and Melanie were distressed that Ray would either trade
one of them for someone else, or have to leave on the long mission without
a concubine of his own.  Denise was due and hoped that she could deliver
her baby in time for her to ship out with him, but Ray had insisted that
she remain with the baby for the good of them both.

   Budzinski was surprised when the AI told him that his CAP score had been
updated after that last mission to Tulak.  He was now a seven point two
making him eligible for two more concubines.  The fact that he had managed
to keep two pregnant concubines happy even with the rigors of combat
assignments had combined with his military prowess and commitment to duty
to increase his score.

   Elizabeth had belonged to a member of Budzinski's platoon who had
foolishly failed to provide for her after his death on Tulak.  She had
jumped on the offer to join Budzinski's household asking only that he
restore the hair between her legs and reduce her ridiculous breasts back to
their original C-cup.

   "I like the way approaching fingers, noses, and dicks tickle the fine
fur lining my pussy and surrounding my ass-hole," Elizabeth explained. 
"And a firm C-cup is plenty to give your dick a very sensuous massage."

   Budzinski had instructed the medlab nanites to restore her furry bush
from tummy to coccyx and to reduce her out-of-place DD-cups to a pert pair
of C-cup cones with big, chewy nipples.  The rusty red curls were very
prominent against the milky white skin of her flat abdomen and athletic
legs.  There was a lot of lush hair on her labia and lower tummy, but none
at all on her legs.  The margin of the triangle that spanned a hand's
breadth above the juncture was clean and straight.

   Budzinski shed his uniform and climbed into the saddle.  Beth had gotten
hot and wet just watching him strip.  The wet lips pushing their way out
through her bush were a clear indication that Beth needed no preliminaries.
Budzinski wasn't immune from the sex show he had witnessed in the rec room,
and his rampant rod was equally ready to nose its way into the tight
confines of the familiar territory hidden in Beth's bush.

   Beth voiced her pleasure as she latched onto Budzinski with her arms and
her legs, "Oh Yes!  Give me all of it, Ray.  Deeper, deeper!  Shove into
me, baby!  Yes!  Yes!  Yes!"

   Miller put her hand on Rhonda's arm to stop her as they were walking
past Budzinski's quarters and was almost run over by the distracted Roy. 
In moments, Beth's screams of delight carried through the bulkhead into the
companionway loud enough for even Rhonda's normal hearing to detect them.
Roy's face broke into a big smile as Rhonda and Miller giggled for a minute
before resuming their progress toward Fitzgerald's quarters.  'Yes,'
thought Miller, 'I'm getting to you, Raymond.  It won't be long before I
get to ride the tool that has Beth shouting and screaming.'

   ----

   As each of the Castles checked in with the Sir Galahad they were given a
list of four planetary systems to survey.

   The Farnham Castle detected Sa'arm activity in System 458 and System
565. The activity was detected early enough to return to FTL drive before
entering the gravity well of System 458, but they were not so lucky in
System 565.  It took a rather long burn of the sub-light engine to keep
them out-of-range of the flurry of Sa'arm ships that showed an interest in
them.  After three hours of dodging and weaving they were finally in a
position where they could engage the FTL drive and wave goodbye to the
dickheads.

   The planet in the life zone of System 720 with enough density to be of
interest turned out to be geologically unstable.  They diverted to
investigate a planet-sized moon around one of the gas giants in the system,
but it didn't appear that the Sa'arm had ever taken an interest in it. 
They used the opportunity to refill their fuel tanks by flying through the
thin tendrils of the gas giant's upper atmosphere.

   The Farnham Castle was wrapping up the conversion of the collected
methane when orders were received to report to Sa'arm Occupied Planet 749.4
and begin thermal and high-resolution radar imaging of selected planetary
features.

   The Lancaster Castle detected FTL signatures the second day they were
drifting toward Sa'arm Occupied Planet 587.3.  Lt-Col.  Wallace ordered,
"Send a message drone dispatch to the Sir Galahad and add the name Sa'Amar
for this infested piece of rock.  As soon as the drone is away I want an
immediate FTL bubble to System 688 before we got too close to this system's
gravity well or one of those Sa'arm ships gets curious."

   They didn't pick up Sa'arm activity as they streaked toward Sa'arm
Occupied Planet 688.5 until they were well within the gravity well of the
planetary system.

   The sensor operator raised Lt-Col.  Wallace, "Captain, there's something
big orbiting Six-Eight-Eight Point Five." The operator rotated and focused
the big reflector telescope and within twenty seconds added, "Sir!  It's a
hive ship!"

   "Not good," Wallace commented; then asked, "Where are its escorts?  We
need to get the heck out of here!"

   "There aren't any, sir," Commander John Starling reported after arriving
in CIC and verifying the accuracy of the sensors.  "The hive ship seems to
be under construction."

   Commander Watts computed a targeting solution, "We can pop a Mark Six
right into its belly, sir."

   Wallace was torn, "No, we can't.  We have very specific orders not to
engage the Sa'arm in a firefight."

   Watts argued, "It won't be a firefight, sir.  We'll just blow it up and
be on our merry way."

   "Let's risk sending a drone to the Sir Galahad with this information,
just in case..." Lt-Col.  Wallace didn't need to specify what the 'case'
might be.  He smiled and suggested, "How about we hang the moniker
Sa'Astillero on this piece of bad news."

   A puzzled Cdr.  Starling shrugged and responded, "Sure thing, Captain."

   The Lancaster Castle coasted to within a hundred-thousand kilometers of
the juicy target almost hoping they would get jumped and be required to
fight their way out, but they were totally ignored during the entire three
days that they watched and documented the Sa'arm building a hive ship.  The
huge telescope that was part of the sensor package supplied them with
excellent photographs of the hive ship's interior whenever they drifted
past an unfinished section of its hull.

   They finally emerged from the far side of System 688 and engaged the FTL
drive for the trip to their next assigned planetary system.

   While drifting near the volcanic nightmare that was Planet 784.5 the
Lancaster Castle received orders to proceed directly to Sa'arm Occupied
Planet 749.4 and begin mapping the terrain features.

   The Lancaster Castle engaged the sub-light engine and made best speed
out of System 784.

   From one light-year away the Hurst Castle counted a total of four
planets in System 523.  Only the second one seemed to have resources that
would interest the Sa'arm.

   "Stay alert," Colonel Murphy cautioned his crew.  "These are big planets
with excellent hiding places for nasty surprises."

   Planet 523.2 was big; five times the size of Earth with twice the
gravity and it appeared to be loaded with heavy metals, but it was covered
in solid ice.  There was no indication that the Sa'arm had ever taken an
interest in this mineral goldmine.  There was also no explanation for the
ice.  Even with the high sulfur-dioxide content of the atmosphere, Planet
523.2 should not be covered in ice at this distance from its sun.

   "Navigator," Col.  Murphy spoke up and got the attention of Cdr. 
Brenner.  "When you send the Sir Galahad the details of this planet add the
name Hielo for this sphere of frozen water."

   When Brenner commented, "You're not very creative, Captain." Murphy just
shrugged.

   They used the gravitational pull of the big ice ball to swing them into
the elliptic plane and burned their way out to the gas giant Planet 523.4
to check on its three larger moons.  Again they found no signs of interest
by an industrialized culture.

   The Hurst Castle took on methane from the gas giant before proceeding to
System 632.  Where System 523 was completely silent, System 632 was teeming
with Sa'arm activity.  They only remained in normal space long enough to
send a report to the Sir Galahad and reentered hyperspace for System 749.

   Eleven planets were cataloged around the young star designated System
749.  Three of the eleven were in the life zone.  Even from a light year
away it was almost certain that the fourth planet had seen industrial
activity due to the level of hydrocarbons, fluorocarbons, and sulfur
compounds in its atmosphere.

   Colonel Murphy held his ship a light-year away for almost a week looking
for Sa'arm activity.  When none was detected he moved into a position far
out of the gravity well and cautiously approached Planet 749.4.  It took
him three weeks to enter into a high orbit above the shrouded planet.  He
couldn't be certain that it was Sa'arm that had stripped and polluted the
planet, but someone certainly had.

   Murphy remarked, "This is certainly a dismal looking rock.  Since we're
in Sa'arm space I propose that we name it Sa'Triste."

   The message he sent to the Sir Galahad was non-committal about Sa'arm
presence, but Commodore Achord said, "That's the one!  Send the Farnham and
the Lancaster to Planet Seven-Four-Nine Point Four.  When we get
confirmation that they have received their orders take us there as well."