Tenebris awoke to the same cool pink light she had fallen asleep to. The first sleep after cryo was always heavenly, and this was only exacerbated by the Parvian between her legs, whose sleeping breaths pleasantly washed over her clitoris. She yawned, brushed her hair out of her face, and stretched as best she could in the cramped space. 

Looking to connect to the station and plan out her activities, she began her least favourite part of interfacing with her neural chip; activating it. The sensation was unusual, like contracting a muscle that didn’t really exist. It wasn’t the feeling that bothered her, however, but the idea that the chip was listening into her every thought and movement, and simply waiting for the correct one to respond to. It was the same reason she used movement and ocular interactions, rather than direct signal interactions. She was completely aware of how it really didn’t matter which she chose, the machine was reading her thoughts all the same either way, but she liked being able to draw a hard line between her, and her augments. 

Nevertheless, she activated the chip, that nonexistent muscle clenching in the recesses of her mind. Orange flooded her vision, materializing into space, or rather, materializing into her visual cortex. The menus, with their blocks of text and data had a unique quality to them, in that they were translucent. However, this translucence was not in any standard sense of the word. In her normal vision it was there, solid as stone, but deep within her mind she could feel that a different, more base part of her mind was looking right past it, and that it wasn’t there. It was a common effect of neural chips from her generation. She had heard there were new versions that removed this affect, but she was a tad repulsed by the idea of being completely unable to know if what she was looking at was truly real. 

She reached out her hands and interacted with the systems. It felt like running her hands through warm water, where there was the sensation of touching something, but no hard resistance. She swiped and tapped, connecting to the station’s data stream. She went for a data pocket tagged with ‘locomotion’. 

At the very top was an advert for a new interstellar transport system. She gleaned over it, honing on to certain key words present on it. Twenty gees. Seventy-nine percent lightspeed. Extremely lightweight. Needless to say, she was intrigued by the prospect. She tapped it, the tab unfolding within her retinas like a flower, the other menus and tabs fading into orange dust, and disappearing from her imagined view. She picked out phrases like “antimatter propulsion” and “immersion fluid”. A personal ship, capable of hitting a whopping seventeen gees of sustained burn without breaking a sweat. Obviously, with such ludicrous acceleration capability, it had to come with a state-of-the-art cryo system, or else any poor fool who entered it would be juiced into the finest of fine mists upon any acceleration. The caveat of the purchase was that it had piss-poor storage capability, and hardly any features, but that was the price to be paid for such a powerful machine. Twenty-two thousand tchokas out her pocket, but for such a fantastic ship, she would have paid double, given the opportunity. 

Tenebris ordered one. The system displayed a message thanking them for their purchase, an address to report to, and an hour before their ship would be ready. There was also a liability waver saying the provider was not liable for any interstellar matter that struck the ship, and any cancers caused by interstellar radiation, which she signed. 

Her thoughts drifted to Martin. She was disappointed that Guyen station had gotten that delivery, but at the same time she knew she’d probably strike a better deal at Edo. Regardless, she made a ping on her chip that informed anyone on the station looking, that she was selling a Parvian, and to approach her with their offer if they were interested. She looked down at the small lump in her pants where Martin was. She really did find him quite cute, and she’d be at least a bit sorry to see him go. At the same time, however, the amount of money she’d get off him would have her set for life, if she played her cards right. 

Her stomach rumbled. She was getting hungry, and she wagered a guess that so was her future jackpot. The Parvian Cafe she had heard about earlier would hopefully do the trick. Seeing another Parvian might also help to improve Martin’s attitudes. 
She awkwardly tied her hair up, the confines of the area making it difficult at times. Briefly, she wondered whether she should wake up Martin now, or simply let him stay down there until she got to the Cafe. Before she could make a decision however, she felt Martin stir, at one point colliding with her clit, accidentally, causing Tenebris to softly gasp.

Once more, she contracted the nonexistent muscle, turning off her chip to attend to the squirming in her pants. A part of her was tempted to push him into her, and make him squirm just enough to get her off, but she pushed aside the desire as best she could, and went to remove him. She snaked her hand into her pants, feeling Martin’s nude body against her sensitive lips. The desire to take control and bring herself to orgasm flared up again, but she stifled it down once more. Withdrawing him, she soon noticed that she had gotten much more wet than she had thought. He was completely drenched in juices, making him slippery to the point it became a tug of war between the tight leggings and her hands. After some fighting, she finally drew Martin out, leaving a small trail of liquid on her stomach. She set him down on the mattress beside her.
Tenebris propped her chin up on her elbow. “Had a good time down there?” He didn’t respond, but as she looked him over, a certain part of him told her that the answer to that question was yes. She reached out and tousled his hair with her thumb, which further dishevelled his already messy hair. “Oh, how you flatter me!” She teased, giving him a wink. “You can just wipe all that fun stuff off on the mattress.”

Evidently in a half daze, she watched him attempt to rub his eyes, and quickly realize he was just rubbing more of her juices on his face, rather than clearing anything off of it. He awkwardly went down to the ground, and did a sort of log roll to get some of the wetness off him. 

Tenebris went digging around in the storage in the corner, and pulled out a box of wet wipes. Grabbing one, she first swept down her stomach, and then passed it along to Martin. It seemed a bit cumbersome for him, but he was clearly able to make it work. Tenebris reclined, putting her hands behind her head, faced up towards the ceiling.   

“Where’re my clothes?” Martin asked, drowsily.

“Sorry, I must’ve kicked them in my sleep. Check near the wall?” She said, inspecting her fingernails. 

“Uhhh… yup, there they are.”

The calming pink lights ran the length of the ceiling, pulsing rhythmically, sending a dot of white across the filaments. She heard the rustling of clothes off to her side, and decided to give the Parvian his privacy, if only just this once. 

“Ready?” She asked, once the rustling had stopped.

“As I’ll ever be.” Martin grumbled. 

She awkwardly shimmied and pushed her feet off the walls to rotate herself, so that her head was facing the exit. During the scuffle, she accidentally bumped him with her hip. She brought herself to the side panel, tapping in the pin to check out of the motel. The door cracked open, turning outward with a hiss, the hinge squeaking slightly. A fine mist seeped out, which she assumed was some sort of sleep-aiding mixture that was included in the package description that she hadn’t read. Unfolding herself from the area, she found herself in the I-wing once again. The normal lights came as a shock, Tenebris’ covering her currently sensitive eyes with a hand. Turning back around, she grabbed a still drowsy Martin off the edge of the platform, and placed him atop her shoulder, where he clutched the strap of her backpack for support. 

They began making their way to the Parvian Cafe. It was back on the commercial floor, which meant Tenebris had to take a route to one of the stairways first. She found the style of Guyen Station quite refreshing, the splashes of colour being a good change of pace from the bland metal corridors of many other stations. On the way, she talked about the arrangements she had made to Martin, such as the Cafe they were on their way to, their transport to Edo, and finally, the sales ping, which he was very apprehensive about, for obvious reasons. 
Shortly after reaching the commercial floor, Tenebris was approached by a sharply-dressed woman, betrothed in jewelry, such as a necklace, bracelets, large earrings, and numerous rings. She appeared to be about middle-aged, the signs of aging worn gracefully. Tenebris assumed she was of fairly high status, since symbols of age are common among the higher classes, as they helped to convey wisdom to their peers. The woman locked her eyes on the Parvian atop Tenebris’ shoulder. “Is that him?”

Tenebris could feel Martin’s hesitation in the way he gripped her shoulder. She felt a little guilty, but she still intended to allow him to veto her decisions. “Yes, this is him,” she said, “if you don’t mind me asking, what do you intend to do with him?”

“Oh,” the woman clicked her tongue, “I’ve seen so many of these lovely little things, and I just knew that a Parvian would make the most perfect bit of jewelry. Can’t you picture how beautiful a Parvian necklace would be? Or maybe even a bracelet... anyway, I can do twenty thousand.”

“Nope!” Tenebris snapped, and walked right around her, continuing down the neon-lit street. Martin tugged on her hair.

“Did you hear that! That woman wanted to wear me! I’m not clothing!” He complained into Tenebris’ ear. 

“Don’t worry,” she whispered back, “I wouldn’t let that happen to you. Not for such a shitty deal, at least.” 

Martin scoffed in response. 

…

The pair arrived at the Cafe. In bold lettering, a red neon sign read ‘Vick’s Tiny Six’ and beneath it, as a subtitle, ‘Parvian Cafe and Bistro’ was written. They entered through the door. 
The interior was a unique sight. It was built of imitation wood, and the whole place had a very rustic feel, emulating ancient styles for the purpose of novelty. Inside, six booths lined the walls. The tables of these booths had see through glass embedded in it, revealing a chamber. Two of the booths were taken, and in the chamber of both booths a Parvian could be seen making conversation with the patrons. Above each booth was a round pot-light, which hung low above the booth and illuminated the area. At the far end was the kitchen, where baristas were preparing orders. 

Tenebris approached the barista, who politely smiled and made eye contact. Tenebris waited for the barista to ask her for her order. Seeing this, the barista gestured to her mouth, and pointed down to a panel, with the word ‘order’ displayed on it. The woman seemed to be mute. “One Tedgeroot mocha, please. And throw in two nutrient packets with it, if you wouldn’t mind.” Tenebris requested. The woman pointed at Martin inquisitively. “He’ll just share with me.” The barista nodded, and slid a payment pad towards Tenebris. She tapped it on her neck, feeling the familiar light shock of the purchase, and the barista went to prepare their order.

Tenebris sat at the booth closest to the door, placing herself so she could see the entrance. She let Martin on the table, the imitation wood cool to the touch. Withdrawing a napkin from a box on the table, she folded it to provide the Parvian a softer place to sit than the hard surface of the table. “You like Tedgeroot?” She asked him.

Martin shrugged. “Never had it.”

Tenebris reclined against the chair. “It’s great stuff. A little on the oily side, but it’s very good. I actually thought all the terraformed planets had it on them.”

In the glass-protected chamber below them, a Parvian emerged from the wall. Tenebris watched Marvin do a double take upon seeing another of his kind. It was a woman, dressed in casual uniform. “H-hi.” He stuttered. 

“Hello.” The woman calmly replied. 

Tenebris heard a bell behind her. Her mocha was ready. She got up to retrieve it, leaving Martin with the other Parvian. The beverage was in a large, clear container with intricate swirling designs painted with gold. The substance within it had the distinct purple colour and thickness of Tedgeroot, and was hot to the touch. She brought it back to her booth where the female Parvian was talking.  

“-bought another one of us when the prices were low, in case any of us needed to be… replaced. ‘Vick’s Tiny Seven’ doesn’t have as good of a ring to it as ‘Vick’s Tiny Six’ though, so she usually lends him to the barista.” She shook her head. “Poor Charlie, he deserves better.”
Tenebris was drawn away from the conversation once again, watching a shifty-looking man walk past her. She saw him steal a few glances at her booth. Discreetly, she moved around the table to keep an eye on him. 

He was one of the people she had seen before, the type with the blue-tinged skin and massive pupils that left no eye whites to be seen. He moved in a strange manner, with slow, deliberate movements shrouded by the large coat he wore. Tenebris watched him make an order, and lean his back against the wall, continuing to sneak looks in her direction. He received his order in a small paper bag, and walked toward the exit, veering close to the booths on Tenebris’ side of the wall. She watched his hand snake out of his coat, reaching towards Martin.  

In a flash, Tenebris shot her hand out, grabbing the man’s wrist. She ripped her arm back, causing the man to fly forward, loudly crashing his head against the low pot-light. She stood up, snatching the thick glasses from his face while he was still surprised. With her modified hand, she gripped the base of the light and jammed it into his face, using her opposite hand to hold a fistful of hair, keeping him still. 

A searing pain shot up her arm as she activated her mod. It felt like her entire limb from the shoulder down was on fire, a burning as if a conflagration had rampaged across her nerves. The pot-light became intensely bright from the sudden excess of energy, shining so bright that Tenebris herself had to squint, despite almost none of  the light being directed anywhere near her. She released her grip on the man, jumping back into her seat at the booth. 

The failed thief staggered back, clutching his eyes. “Fuck!” He shouted, “you bitch! Do you have any idea how expensive retinal implants are? Dammit!” He blindly stumbled out of the cafe, clutching his face and holding out his hand in front of him. 
The entire room was staring at her now, completely silent. She sat back down. Martin was completely dumbfounded, along with the Parvian in the table’s chamber. Tenebris slouched into her seat, desperate to get the attention off her. 

After a few moments, people slowly returned to their normal murmurings, and sound returned to the cafe. Tenebris let out a deep sigh. Her booth was approached by one of the baristas. She opened her mouth to speak, but Tenebris held up her hand, gesturing for her to stop. “I know. We’ll leave. Can I get a disposable cup?” The barista nodded quickly, and made her way back to the kitchen. “Sorry.” Tenebris muttered down to Martin. 

“No, no, it’s, uhh, it’s alright. Thanks.” 

“Man, the nerve you have to have to just steal someone else’s property from right under them.” Tenebris remarked frustratedly. 

Martin laughed, confusing Tenebris until she realized the hypocrisy of what she had just said. “Yeah, pretty dickish, isn’t it?” He mocked. Tenebris’ face became warm with embarrassment. She opened her mouth to try and say something witty, but ended up being interrupted by the barista coming back with her cup. Silently, she shut her mouth, and poured her cup into the new disposable one, feeling its heat soak into her hand. The sensation helped to relax the aching muscles in her modded arm. She silently set her open palm on the table, allowing Martin to climb atop it. 

Exiting the building, she saw the man she had blinded continuing down the street. He would probably be fine - retinal repair was not too expensive in the modern age, despite his prior complaints. Still, she decided walking the opposite direction would be better to avoid another conflict. She finished her Tedgeroot mocha, the artificial plant invigorating her, and the nutrient supplements keeping her from going hungry. With difficulty, she even shared a bit of it with Martin along the way. 

On her way to the address from the purchase of the ship, she stopped by a pharmacy for some nerve growth stimulants, and some high energy supplements for Martin, to prevent him from accidentally metabolizing himself to death. Her arm was aching unusually bad, and her fingertips were losing sensation. She would likely need to get her arm mod replaced soon, or at least removed, since it was obviously causing complications. 

Continuing on her way, she was approached by one more potential buyer. Another woman, this time someone who wore very baggy clothes, and had her hair messily tied up. Tiny studs of metal wrapped around her forehead like a crown, embedded in her skin. Her eyes were wide, constantly skittering and refocusing, in a constant dilated state. This woman was an ag-simmer. Tenebris recognized the type, having run a few odd-jobs for them in her lifetime. 

Ag-simming was an interesting profession. It required an insane amount of intelligence and mind-bogglingly fast reaction time. It was a complex facet of a lot of stations, but it boils down to a symbiotic relationship between the simmer and the station. The station compiles data, and transmits it to the simmer’s prefrontal cortex in the form of a game-like experience, typically within a generated four-dimensional space. The simmer interacts with the data, whereby playing the ‘game’ they are inadvertently optimizing the systems of the station, sorting data, and providing calculated solutions that only an artificial intelligence would struggle to produce, or at least be too costly to operate. This exchange shoots up the brain of the ag-simmer with an unparalleled high of rapid problem solving, and a constant flow of adrenaline. 

The ag-simmer’s lurid experience of the simulation, and the fact that their livelihood was built upon it, lead them to find normal life hopelessly dull. They often neglected activities, and only leave the sim to perform the most basic of tasks. Tenebris made a staggering amount of money by simply running supplies to these people - they had little else to put their wealth into, so they paid handsomely. She grinned. If Martin would allow it, this would be an easy ticket to the good life. 

“Five-hundred K. Housecleaning job. Minor entertainment use. Limited assistance.” The woman spoke rapidly, so fast that Tenebris struggled to keep up. Her voice had a slightly raspy quality to it, but her tone was intensely robotic. The woman’s eyes darted all over, sometimes looking Tenebris in the eyes, sometimes at Martin, and sometimes simply being caught by random street signs. 

The Parvian was clearly distraught. Tenebris would be willing to bet that he had no knowledge of ag-simmers. She held up a hand. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to my… business partner here for a moment.” She stepped around a corner, and held the Parvian to her face. 

“That lady gives me the creeps...” Martin griped. 

“Please! Five-hundred K! It won’t be that bad.”

“I don’t know, I have a really bad feeling about this. Shit, just look at her eyes. Doesn’t she make you uncomfortable?” 

“It’s just housecleaning! You’ll barely have to do anything!”

“I’m sorry! I just don’t feel good about this one. Can’t we at least try Edo?” 

Tenebris rolled her eyes. “Ugh, fine. You’re so fucking lucky I made you that deal.” 

“Thank you.”

Tenebris returned to the ag-simmer. She adopted a taller posture, and tried to bring up her best businesslike tone, saying to the woman, “we have decided that we will not be accepting your offer at this time. Thank you.”

The woman furrowed her brow. “Time is currency. Time wasted is currency wasted.” Her finger twitched, before she spun on her heel and began walking back the way she came. 
Tenebris slumped her shoulders. Beside her, she heard Martin exhale deeply in relief. 

…

This was the address. Gilfoy Military Surplus Goods. The pair was greeted by a grey-haired man, who eagerly shook Tenebris’ hand. 

He spun a fuzzy proton hologram, which sat in a touch-sensitive glass cylinder. It displayed the ship Tenebris had purchased; simple, but elegant because of it. Of course, proper aesthetics would have made such a ship much more expensive than it was. 

“Got a bonch of these babies from some pirate crew that got woiped by a gamma ray burst, ye.” The man rasped, “had a massive ‘aul of stolen military goods. Scav laws let us ‘ave em, as long as we gave ‘em back the warheads. Repurposed the buggers into personal ships cheap as dirt, I’m ‘appy to say.” 

Martin squirmed anxiously in Tenebris’ pants’ pocket, where she had put him, since she tired of holding him and was afraid that someone would try to snatch him like in the cafe. Evidently, he was concerned by the prospect of flying inside of a decommissioned planet-destroying missile. She wasn’t. At the end of the day, the only fundamental difference between a missile and a cargo ship was what was inside it. 

The man held out a data pad, similar to one of the payment devices. “If you don’t ’ave any questions, I’ll take yer codes and you can nab yer new ship.”

Wordlessly, Tenebris used the payment pad, once more holding it up to the base of her skull. A slight tingle resonated within her cranium, before she handed it back. 

“Give it a second to confirm the payment and then it’s yers.” He placed the pad on a table behind him. ‘Ey, you ‘eard about this naming thing? Apparently it’s a bit of a superstition ‘round ‘ere that if yer business dun’t start with the same letter as yer name, you’re, eh, ‘doomed to fail’.  Funny thing is, ye, it ends up being a bit of a self-fulfilling prophesy, ‘cus nobody wants to work at a business that’s destined to fail, which, get this, causes them to fail! Funny, innit?”

“D fifteen” a feminine voice emanated from a speaker above the hologram pillar, reading a code which flashed in stark red lettering. 

“Down the ‘allway, ye. Fourth elevator. Level fifteen. Ya don’t talk much, do ya?” 

Tenebris shrugged. “Not much to talk about.” With that, she spun on her heel and made her way down the hallway. 

The elevator was seemingly waiting for them, the bulkhead marked with a massive unmissable capital D. It opened upon her approach, likely by identifying her neural chip’s unique signal, and associating it with her purchase. Proving her theory, the 15 button on the touchpad was brightly lit, with a pulsing blue, while the others remained dim, emanating a low yellow. When she pressed it, the blue light disappeared. 

In response, the door behind her slid shut, interlocking mechanisms sliding into place, pneumatic hisses reverberating along the air. The elevator smoothly accelerated, a pit forming in Tenebris’ stomach from the sudden change. 

Just as before, the rotational gravity grew less intense the higher they went closer to the centre. When the elevator began to decelerate, she had to brace her hands against the ceiling to avoid getting thrown into it. Martin seemed to get lifted up out of her pocket slightly from the upward force. 

The elevator slid to a halt, a display to the side of the bulkhead reading ‘level 15’ along with various readings, such as pressure and temperature on the catwalk. The bulkhead opened, the sound of sliding metal and hissing pneumatics once more filling the chamber. 

This region still retained about half the gravity of the normal station, so Tenebris was able to stand. The catwalk in front of her was fully transparent, allowing an excellent view of the area around them. They were much further into the station than they were before, and were flanked in every conceivable direction by layers upon layers of ship and cargo containers, so many that either end of the station was completely unseeable. 

The ship before Tenebris was larger than she had expected. A towering cylinder, around twenty metres in height and fully coloured jet black. It seemed oddly lopsided, with a segment jutting out the side at a right angle up against the capsule. The catwalk extended slightly more than halfway up the total height of the repurposed missile, being the capsule. The door was already open, waiting for them. 

Tenebris entered the capsule, the bulkhead sliding shut behind her. The first thing she noticed was the size. It was incredibly small: if she spread her arms, she would probably be able to reach across the entire diameter. The interior was basic, being made up of nothing but a small control setup that was set into the floor, and a soft spot on the opposite wall. On this soft spot, hung several metal attachments. If she were to lie against the surface of the wall, the attachments would roughly align with her wrists, torso, head, and ankles. 

She withdrew Martin from her pocket, allowing him to slowly float down to the ground from the lower artificial gravity. His fall appeared to be slightly diagonal, a natural side-effect of being aboard a rotating station, commonly referred to as ‘coriolis forces’. She stuffed her backpack into a storage locker embedded in the floor before interacting with the control setup.
The controls were incredibly simple, having very few options for configuration of any sort. She tapped together a flight to Edo. 

Eighty-seven thousand light hours to their destination. She configured her burn relative to the distant system, with forty-thousand hours of a seventeen gee burn, followed by an idle period of one-hundred thousand hours. After this, another forty-thousand hours of seventeen gee deceleration. At this point the pair will be reawakened from cryosleep, and be bright and awake for their arrival at the distant system. 

The system took in all the data, and recalculated it to apply to their local frame of reference, accounting for all of the terribly annoying effects of relativity. It supplemented the telemetry with a route to take them away from the station, within acceptable distances to initiate the burn. 

A warning appeared on the screen. Tenebris read it aloud for her Parvian companion. “Warning, acceleration fluid may induce substance intoxication as a side-effect of present compounds. Restraints must be applied prior to travel.” She glanced over at the metal attachments. She continued reading. “Heh, look at this - ‘any wearable items such as clothes or jewelry must be removed prior to flight, in order to prevent complications.’  Lucky you, you pervy Parvian.” 

Martin rolled his eyes. Tenebris snickered. “I didn’t get the chance to ask what ‘the scramble’ was to that woman.” Martin stated, evidently trying to switch the topic. 

“Good.” Tenebris said, drawing her shirt over her head, the Martian insignia deforming from the movement. “Some things are better left unknown with these places, especially if you have to dig for them. Now,” Tenebris made a sweeping gesture towards the Parvian, “lose the clothes. For your safety.”

The pair removed their garments, with Tenebris finding the tight leggings particularly difficult to remove. She stole a few glances at Martin while he wasn’t looking. It was silly to be sneaky about it, since they wouldn’t be able to not look at each other when they were entering cryo, but she found a simple thrill in doing something she knew was wrong. When she was finished, she balled up her clothes and tucked them under her arm, before squatting above the miniscule Parvian, who had his back turned towards her. Her shadow crept over his nude form while he kicked off his boxers. 

He must have noticed her shadow, since he soon turned aroun. As a knee-jerk reaction to Tenebris looming above him, he jumped, letting out a tinny, brief shriek. He clutched his chest, calming down from the scare. 

Tenebris took a bit to absorb the moment. It was an incredible feeling, to tower above someone like this, soaking in Martin’s adorable responses. Her squatting posture had her splaying her legs, which in turn, parted her labia slightly. Martin was staring up at her spread sex as if it were a monster. She could only imagine what was coursing through the Parvians head at that moment. Was he afraid? Likely. Taken aback by the glorious sight? Unlikely, but she could still entertain the possibility if she was willing to flatter herself. 

The moment having been sufficiently absorbed, Tenebris broke the silence. “Eyes are up here, buddy.” She extended a hand towards Martin. “Clothes.” 

Coming back to his senses, Martin came to attention and scooped up his clothes, placing them in her palm. 

Tenebris smirked. She shoved both their clothes into the open locker where she had put her backpack. Shutting it afterward proved difficult, as due to the lessened gravity, she couldn’t leverage her weight against the locker. With a good shove, it clicked shut. 

Behind her, Martin cleared his throat. Without noticing, she had bent herself over, directly in front of him, and completely flaunted her privates a second time. She dipped her head, dark hair flowing to the ground like water in slow motion. Across her body, between her legs, she saw Martin, craning his neck up at her intimate areas. 

“Uh…” he clicked his tongue, “you know anything about Edo?”

Tenebris pushed herself up so she was sitting on her knees. “Let’s see. Biologicals industry capital of the known universe, so I’d expect some weird shit, at the very least.” She said, running her fingers through her hair. “You never know, though,” she continued, “maybe you’ll see something you like. Is that acceptable?” 

“I guess.” Martin shrugged.

“Excellent!” She clapped her hands together. “Now let’s get this shit going.” She arched her back until she was upside-down, hair draping down to the floor, and with a stretched arm, tapped a button reading ‘Begin lift off sequence’ in bold lettering. 

The door shut and tightened. Tenebris scooped up Martin, and went to the wall equipped with the metal restraints, which now had red flashing lights on them. As she put her limbs near them, they snapped shut, the light switching to a calming green. The restraints, upon connecting, drew out from the walls. A steel wire extended the range of movement, allowing Tenebris to move about freely until she was put to sleep. The cabin began to fill with a thin pink liquid, the sudden warmth on her bare feet surprising her. An external camera informed her that the bulging area on the side of the ship was contracting at the same rate the cabin was filling with the liquid, leading her to the conclusion that the extrusion was temporary containment for the incompressible liquid.  

Martin was squirming up a storm in her hand. “Calm down, man,” she attempted to console him, “it’s breathing fluid. You can breathe it… I think. The ship is supposed to do this.”
The ship unclamped from the station, beginning the station-leaving burn, acceleration causing a pit to form in Tenebris’ stomach. The fluid was up to her knees now. A vacuuming noise could be heard, sucking the air out to make space for the acceleration fluid. It crawled up to her waist, then her chest, and climbed over her head, encasing her in the warm fluid. She let the air out her lungs, bubbles of atmosphere slowly floating to the top. The liquid invaded her chest, infiltrating her body. The sickening sense of wrongness that comes with inhaling a liquid pervaded her senses, but something else also arose. 

It was an almost indescribable feeling radiating from her lungs. It felt like both numbness and hypersensitivity simultaneously. She could barely sense Martin in her hand, but at the same time, she could almost feel his rapid heartbeat caress her skin. 

The cabin filled with lurid purple swirls and rays of golden light coming from impossible directions. The world around her became a blur, but also shone with incredible definition.

Breathe in, breathe out. The liquid was heavy, requiring a lot of strength to force it out, and to draw it in. But she could definitely breathe it, as weird a sensation as it may have been. Her mind was infiltrated by a sudden thought, a whisper from within. Something that asked the question ‘wouldn’t it be nice if…’ and before her conscious mind could produce a proper answer, she gasped from a heavenly squirming against her sex. 

She rubbed Martin up and down against her slit, desperately seeking pleasure. Biting her lip, she sped up her pace, noting every bump and texture of his tiny form against her sensitive bits. It felt good, unnaturally so. At the same time, however, it was also not enough. It was almost a battle, between her loins sending incredible amounts of pleasure, and her pleasure centres continuing to demand more. 

It was only logical then, that the next step was deeper. Desperate for satisfaction, she pushed the wriggling man into herself. Playing with her clit, her slender fingers pushed the radiating blissful sensation within. His movements were euphoric, her insides contorting to his form. 

Her eyes shut, focusing on the electric sensations from the Parvian’s every move. He slid about inside her, pressing into her walls. Sometimes a leg, sometimes an arm, always bliss. One particular movement struck her just right, sending her over the edge into powerful waves of orgasm, spasming and rippling across her nervous system. She heaved and gasped in the throes of pleasure, sucking in lungfuls of liquid. 

It was good. In her post-orgasmic haze, she lacked the ability to produce a better word. A sense of utter satisfaction resonated within her. She was drawn against the wall, held tight in a mechanical embrace. The comfortable surface beckoned her with the prospect of rest, making her eyes heavy and her swirling thoughts slow. 

Opening her eyes for a brief moment, with blurry vision she read a message from the display on the floor. ‘Cryogenic processes initiated. Freezing in 16 seconds…” the seconds continued to count down, but the call of rest had her asleep before it could hit ten.