Captain Jeri Lance

I switched off the log recorder and turned the chair around the bridge, getting a look at my crew. Out of the dozen or so stations, only five of them were manned - or womanned, except in the case of the helm. Ensign Davis was there putting in at least his twentieth double-shift in as many days, watching both the helm and navigation console. We would need to find a world soon upon which we could resupply the ship, as a good deal of the consumables were ruined during the period of madness which followed the virus attack. My eyes rested on the back of his head for a moment, as I imagined how tired he must be, how stiff from sitting in that chair for so long. Perhaps he might appreciate a shoulder rub -

I shook my head to clear it. The sexual tension was getting worse all the time. It had become standard practice for crewmembers to take breaks every four hours to relieve their needs by their own hand, but even that wasn't enough anymore. And I suspected that many of the crew had already taken to relieving each other. The thought of doing so myself, with any of the women on the bridge if Davis wasn't available, made my head swim all over again.

"Status report!" I called out, just to break the silence. "Helm?"

"We're cruising at warp eight," Davis responded. "Sensors are continuously scanning for possible M-class worlds. No response yet."

I wondered how the hell he kept his composure - I knew that Davis was as affected as the rest of us. He had to be using Vulcan techniques to block the urges. "Very good. Communications?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry Captain." Ensign Amasova took a moment to compose herself - she'd obviously been lost in thoughts of her own, about what I didn't particularly want to know. "No signals of any kind. The subspace message we sent out to the Federation should have reached the Alpha Quadrant by now. Of course, anyone along the way could have heard it."

"Fine. If you need to take a moment, Ensign, please do so. My ready room is available."

"Thank you, Captain!" She immediately ran into my ready room and let the door close behind her. I tried not to think about what she was doing in there, but images of her twisting in my chair, rubbing her pussy and moaning, were impossible to shut out of my head.

"Engineering?"

"Bethan here, Captain. Engines are running well. We might be able to squeeze a little more power from them."

"Whatever you can do gets us home that much faster, Chief. Environmental Control, report. Have you been able to do anything about the temperature fluctuations around the ship?"

"Still working on that, Captain," replied Lieutennant Greene in her breathy, sensual voice. I imagined her full, red lips caressing my neck, whispering in my ears. I then chastised myself and tried my damndest to imagine a ham sandwich instead.

"See what you can do," I said. "It's still fifty degrees in my quarters and at least eighty in my ready room. Medical?"

"Dr. Akira here," came the voice over the intercom. "The latest sweep confirms that the virus is completely eradicated from the ship. Unfortunately, the... effects... seem to be lingering."

"I don't need you to tell me that, Doctor. Any new ideas of what we can do about it?"

"Still working on that, I'm afraid. I'll let you know if I come up with anything. Incidentally, I'd like to meet you to discuss something privately."

Instantly, I imagined getting very private indeed with the attractive doctor. "Very well," I replied, trying my best to keep my voice level. "I'll be in your orifice at the end of the shift." I paused, and thought about what I'd just said. "I'll be in your office," I corrected, feeling my cheeks grow hot.

Just as I was about to turn the comm over to Lt. Greene and go relieve my own pressing needs, the amber light on my console flared up. Due to the crew's distracting condition, I had geared the computer to alert me of anything out of the ordinary, and this was a signal of just such an event. "Report!" I called, relieved for the activity but frustrated at being caught just before I was about to relieve my tension.