Why the hell not?

“Okay, I'm in.” You decide, with not much deliberation. This job was a chance to make some coin, curry favour with Captain Colombe, give the Empire a sneaky middle finger, and help the oppressed. That was a win-win-win-win to you. “How're we gonna do this?” You ask.

“No one knows Florianne's on the ship.” Marion explains. “When you leave this room, head to my cabin and get her. I'll clear the way to the cargo bay for the two of you. When you get there, stow her in a crate. As you leave, I'll have that crate transferred to your ship, supposedly as part of your reward.”

“This sounds risky, but I think I can pull it off.” You say, rising from the table.

“Don't fuck this up, Halloway. Please.” Marion urges you.

“Relax, babe. I don't make mistakes.” You say coolly, before turning on your heel. As you set off, you bump into door which you assumed was automatic. Rubbing your bruised arm, you glance sheepishly back at Marion, before hitting the switch and leaving the room.

“By the holy flame...” The captain groans, face in her hand.

-

You navigate the ship with the natural mix of unease, tension and excitement that comes with a job like this. Strolling purposefully and looking for the Captain's cabin, you nervously think what'll befall you if you get caught doing this. You know the unpleasant fate in store for Florianne. Marion'd probably lose her command at least. You're not eager to find out what they'd do to the outsider with a long history of lawlessness and xenophilia.

After a few moments, you find Marion's cabin and step in. Luckily it's deserted out.

“Wake up, sunshine, I'm here to get you out of this system.” You announce as the door shuts behind you.

Florianne is sleeping in his sister's bed. In a pair of tiny shorts and a tank top, he looks pretty feminine. You notice his breasts, large, full and currently unbound. You guess all Colombe females must be as similarly blessed as Marion.

Groggily, the young man sits up.

“Ugh... who the fuck're you?” He says, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. While he does, you eye him up. Florianne actually greatly resembles his sister. Though his face has less of his sister's feminine roundness, there's a noticeable resemblance. The beautiful blue eyes are the same. Even his hair, though cut extremely short, is the same shade as Marion's golden tresses.

“Derrick Halloway. Friend of your sister's.” You say. “Okay, friend is maybe pushing it. I'd say I'm more of a paid stooge/admirer, but you get the point.”

“Uh, no, I don't.” The teenagers says, bemused.

“The point is I'm here to get you somewhere safe, Florianne.” You say, urging the young man to stand.

“Florian.” He corrects you, finally getting out of bed. “You know, this is such bullshit. Why should I have to leave home, just for admitting what I am? This fuckin' sucks!” Colombe Jr. complains.

“Yes, it fuckin' sucks, but are you Emperor of anything? Do you have an army? If not, you're the one who's gotta run.” You sympathize.

You leave the captain's cabin with Florian in tow. Marion's as good as her word, and so far, the path the cargo hold seems pleasingly bereft of Imperial troops.

“Why are you doing this for me, anyway?” Florian asks, sticking close at your ass as you round corners and hustle down corridors. “Why risk your life for a stranger?”

“Believe it or not, not everyone agrees with the way the Empire does things.” You respond. “Besides, I wanna bang your sister, and this seemed like a good way of earning some gratitude.” You add.

Florian looses a course laugh at your frank answer.

Within a few minutes, you arrive in the hold, blessedly undetected.

“Okay...” You hum, looking around for a suitable crate to hide your new friend in. “There!” You decide, gesturing to a nondescript grey box.

Cracking it open, you quickly ascertain there's enough room for Florian.

“Alright, take this. Poke yourself a few airholes.” You say, unclipping a knife from your belt.

Florian, now looking a little nervous, takes the blade from you, before you help him into the grate.

“Nice ass.” You remark, as you get a faceful of Florian's short-covered rear end. You even give it a little slap. As you bring the lid of the crate down, he shoots you a glare worthy of his sister.

“See ya on the other side!” You whisper. You hope he's still breathing when you do.

Taking a second, you open your comm, send Marion a message containing the serial number of her brother's crate, then make a dash back to a part of the ship you're officially cleared to be on.

You try and act casual as you navigate the corridors, now filled with the normal hustle and bustle you'd expect on a naval vessel. Luckily, nobody had the slightest reason to suspect you, and you arrive back on your ship within minutes.

A message from Marion confirms delivery of your “bonus”. With your cargo onboard, you type in the quickest course that'll get you out of Imperial space, then dash down to the hold.

Taking a crowbar, you quickly pry apart the crate.

Florian spills out, gasping for air. As do numerous food packets. Looks like you've won a lifetime supply of the Imperial Navy's generic meat rations. So this whole escapade hasn't been for naught.

Florian lies on his back amidst the packets, savouring the relatively fresh air of your ship. Giving the lad a helping hand, you pull him fully out of the crate and sit him up.

“Take it from me, kid. There's no comfortable way to travel in a crate.” You chuckle, remembering some ordeals that made this particular crate look like a room at the Salvaged Siren.

Once Florian's recovered, you show him around the ship. As you show the young man his quarters, the kitchen, the cockpit, you quiz him on his plans. Apparently he has no real preference on where to go, knowing little of the galaxies beyond the Empire's reach.

Oh, you told him, a few days on the Scrap Moon would correct that. In fact, you can hardly think of a better hive of debauchery and cultural enlightenment for a sheltered young man. Plus, it's right next door!

Florian, acting very much in line with his nineteen years, merely shrugs. You think the teen'll warm up to the moon once he tastes it's pleasures.

It'll take the better part of twelve hours to arrive, of course. In the meantime, you think about having dinner then wander the ship, checking up on stuff. Everything's in the same general working order as your last boring intergalactic flight.

Deciding to get to know your travelling companion better, you walk the ship looking for Florian. You find him in the hold again, availing himself of the makeshift gym you set up and often neglect to use.

As you watch him work it, it dawns on you how toned Florian's body is. Certainly enough to put your own physique to shame.

“Damn,” You remark, drawing close as Florin pummels a punching bag. “You're fit, bro.”

“Gotta be.” Florian says simply, wiping sweat from his brow. “Wanna be a fighter.”

“I'd bet on ya.” You say. “You gonna need a spotter, because I'd be happy to oblige...” You say suggestively. It just slips out. Sometimes you can't help yourself.

“Nah.” Florian says, before turning to look you up and down. “Could use a sparring partner, though.”

“Looking for something more satisfying than a bag to hit? I'm game.” You say, whipping your shirt off over your head.

To your delight, Florian does the same, revealing his sizable breasts and nicely developed abs. Shit, if you looked as good as he did, you wouldn't think twice about flaunting your skin, either.

You begin sparring. Florian's good. A natural, his body's well trained. Maybe he even learned a few things from his sister in the navy.

You're no slouch yourself. You're bigger, older and have learned more than a few dirty tricks.

Florian tries out a few grappling holds. You wonder if he notices how hard the coming together of your shirtless, increasingly sweaty bodies is making you. If he does, that doesn't stop him one bit.

You decide to play a little dirty, showing Florian a few grapples you've learned the hard way during your career.

Before long, the tough little fighter is on his stomach, with you pinning him to the floor.

“Okay, you win Halloway.” Florian smiles. He grins over his shoulder at you. “Now, are you gonna fuck me or what?” He asks, emphasizing his words with a grinding of his ass against your rock hard prick.

Oh yeah, he noticed it.