Trota V

This story will be based in the same universe as Captain Claire, Smuggler Seductress Extraordinare. Her story is written by Genericc616 and you can find it under Futas & Fertility on Genericc616 page! If you see a * by a character or place, this means the place or character is from Genericc616, NOT MINE. Thank you and enjoy, baby.

"0X219TROTAVX," I mumble. A low vibration fills my ears as the sub-engines activate. The lights above my bed flicker to life as the metal shield surrounding my room opens, giving me the clearest view of the galaxy I've been stopped at for two weeks. Each sleeping room was mostly glass, giving the viewer a clear view of space. "Ah! You couldn't stay away longer than 14 days could you!" the almost human voice shouts over the speakers in an obnoxiously happy voice. "Do I need to mute you," I say, rolling over, holding my stomach. "Detecting high levels of C2H5OH in your blood stream," Rhys says smoothly above me. "Yeah, Rhys, I'm hungover as fuck," I moan. A holographic screen suddenly pixilates in front of me, hovering several feet above the floor. "There are 6,367 hospitals and clinics in our current galaxy." A wave of nausea runs over me. I jump up, running through the pixelated screen into the bathroom. I fall to my knees unleashing hot whiskey and stomach acid into the toilet several times. Rhys flushes the toilet for me and turns on the sink. I roll my eyes. "Do you really have access to every mechanism on this ship?" I ask the cocky computer. "You know I always have," he says, flushing the toilet once more. I lay my head on the toilet seat, pushing my dark purple, matted hair from my face. A cluster of pixels rushes in front of my face, forming the screen again. "Dissipate free screen, Rhys," I demand, looking up at the ceiling.

After my shower, I brush my teeth and walk across my room, naked. My tall, muscular body aching with every step. My nipples tight with anticipation and my clit pounding. "If I didn't feel like shit I'd fuck myself for the next three hours," I thought. "Rhys, pilots uniform," I say, standing in front of my bed. A long glass case slides out from under my bed. Once the length of the case is free from the bed frame, it lifts itself up, and places itself on the bed. The glass lid slowly lifting from the body of the case revealing fresh folds of clothes. I pick out the uniform I want and get dressed.

I walk into the control room. "Let's see what the damage is," I whisper to myself. "Rhys, activate main engine and control room." A strong hum bellows throughout the ship as the main engine joins the two sub-engines. Multiple warning message screens hover over the navigation map as the protective metal opens. I throw myself back into the pilots seat. The programmed woman specific to the control room speaks, "Welcome back, Ms. Rison." "Trota, damages to ship," I ask, rubbing my temples. "External damages: none, Electrical damages: none..." Rhys's pixelated screen forms in front of my face again. I shoo it away. "... Main engine: gas, low. Ship cleared of diagnostics. You may proceed." The dreaded question, "Shipment requests?" I ask slowly. "Trota V has 140 shipment requests at: 5 planets in galaxy: N'Nari." My head starts pounding harder. "Do we have the available parts for these 5 planets," I ask, closing my eyes. "Yes. Parts restock is scheduled in 400 hours." I open my eyes to the screen in front of me again. "For fuck sake, Rhys, fine. I want a top rated clinic that only deals with infusions. Same day appointment. I want in and out of there" I say, annoyed. "Top rated clinic. Dr. Laura Charms* specializing in body enhancing modifications and infusions," Rhys says, happily. "Trota, pull directions to this clinic," I say. "Destination in route. Time: 15 minutes. Deliveries available: 28 at 3 ports," Trota explains. I nod. "Close metal, engage auto-pilot," I say. "Yes, Ms. Rison."