A ship in trouble

“Carrying out evasive maneuvers,” the computer announced as Linda and Adam raced towards the bridge. The autopilot then kicked in, and the ship began to move in a rather drastic fashion. This was alright for Adam, who managed to continue moving even as the corridor through which he and his hot mom were racing began to shake, but Linda’s high heels caused her to lose her balance and crash into the wall, becoming temporarily dazed by the impact. Not having time to stop and check that his mom was alright, Adam dashed the last few yards to the bridge, where he quickly leapt into his seat and faced a dashboard filled with controls that were beeping and blinking.

The Falcon 4 was moving, and it was pulling the Princess along with it, the airlock connecting the two ships having held despite the rather brutal shakedown that it had received during the Falcon 4’s evasive maneuvers. As for the threat, it was now floating through space close enough for Adam to see it without the aid of any of the Falcon’s instruments.

Taking the Falcon through a smooth turn, Adam could hear the click of his mother’s heels hitting the floor as she rushed up behind him.

“Adam!” his mother called out, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, mom. It doesn’t seem to be a pirate ship at least.” Adam responded, and then said after a few seconds of silent contemplation: “Computer, get me a read-out of unidentified vessel one.”

“It looks like an older transport ship.” Linda observed, having stepped up so that she was just to Adam’s right. With one hand resting on the back of his chair, Linda was leaning forwards slightly, and Adam had to suppress a groan as he caught a good look of her DD-cups just a few inches away from his face.

“Unidentified Vessel 1 is registered as number Four-Delta-Zulu-Three-Eight-Nine-Two-Beta-Indigo-Nine, name: Murphy’s Law,” the computer helpfully announced, informing Adam and Linda that “the ship is registered as a Type-2 transport vessel, with no outstanding warrants.”

“Status?” Adam asked with his voice a little strained as he did his best to avoid ogling Linda’s full, round tits.

“Readout suggests engines operating on 13%, life support systems are critical,” the computer declared, adding “incoming message from Four-Delta… Murphy’s Law, are you receiving it?”

“Receive it,” Adam told the computer.

Seconds later, the radio sparked to life to transmit a heavily distorted message, the voice of whoever it was that was speaking being so badly transmitted that the metallic crackling made it impossible to even denote the speaker’s gender, and with just a few broken words such as “Mayday”, “help” and “assistance neede…” being audible.

“Assistance is being offered, over.” Adam told the person on the other end of the transmission.

“Mom,” Adam turned towards his mother, “I’m going to give them a hand, ok?”
“That’s fine, honey,” Linda responded.

“God,” the busty woman thought to herself, “those Speedos aren’t hiding anything!”

“Eh-hum,” Adam coughed as he silently swore that his mother had just been staring at his crotch, “computer, deploy portside airlock.”

“Deploying portside airlock,” the computer did as Adam instructed it as he began to move the Falcon into position alongside the troubled ship.

Minutes later, the Falcon and the Murphy’s Law had docked, meaning that the Falcon was now flanked by a ship on each side.

As the two of them were walking over to the portside airlock, Linda was trailing behind her son.

“Oh my,” she thought as she watched her boy from behind, “would you look at that ass?”

This time around she couldn’t be bothered with feeling ashamed about the way in which she was eyeing her son.