Thump... Thump... Thump...

I sat in my quarters in the dark, staring out at the stars through the little portal window above my bed, entranced by my son's rhythmic heartbeats.

We were stranded in orbit while a small detachment of Forged warriors cleared the area of minions, followed by a science crew tasked with inspecting the empty crater.

I debated taking advantage of the new long-range communication beacons Groon dropped throughout our journey. It would be nice to speak to my mates and hear stories about my boy's adventures on Menthla.

At the same time, I was concerned about riling up Crazy Wolf. It was probably best to wait until their fathers reached out in case the youngling became upset that I wouldn't be returning home imminently.

Thump-thump, thuuuump-thuuuump, thump-thump, thuuuump-thuuuump...

I spent the morning instructing Forged warriors on the best tactics for engaging a full Graven. They did well, but I had concerns about their ability to resist the temptation of ultimate power.

Adherence to the code in a mortal body was one thing but being pumped full of Graven blood and then having the coherence and willpower to rip it out forcibly was beyond torture.

I've known many honorable razkurs who ultimately succumbed to the allure of god-like abilities... one in particular.

I traced a single claw over the little fang pendant draped around my neck.

It sucked being away from my children.

If I were at home, I'd probably be singing or taking them out hunting.

Whenever I was sad, Raven Tide liked to dance and try to make me laugh. While Crazy Wolf would take hold of my hand and drag me off to make me play whatever new game he'd just invented.

What was I like with my father?

I couldn't recall.

How many of my favorite games were just him concocting some method for keeping me busy and out of the way?

And then there were those times he'd snuggle with me under a blanket while we sat out under the stars watching the campfire dwindle to dim charcoal.

He'd tell me stories of his tribe, about the constellations, and the wildlife.

Standing Otter, after I returned home, confessed that my father spent a lot of time worrying about me. He said my father fretted over how I was easily mastering the difficult compositions and that his only recourse was to push me harder than necessary so I wouldn't realize that I had already surpassed his lessons.

I reached over and picked up my guitar.

Standing Otter also noted that my instrument played a pivotal role in proving my identity when the Zhaguai first landed on Menthla.

The military took detailed sonic imagery of its internal construction and they initially summoned him to identify the authenticity. Standing Otter quickly spotted a functioning augment that he and my father had only hypothesized but had never succeeded in building.

Two Clouds was the one who solved that puzzle and she did it all in a single night of pondering.

I strummed a few gentle cords along the thump thump thump of my lifemates' natural percussion.

Each reverberation contained subtle echoes of my mate's internal organs.

I slumped into the bed on my back, strumming whatever popped into my head.

Shale's tune rushed in like a howling snowstorm while Eh'kt's swayed along in precise time and clarity. Flickers of their faces and gestures cascaded behind my closed eyes as warm electricity prickled under my ribs and sprawled toward my pelvis.

I squirmed atop the sheets, feeling restless.

My fingers wanted to keep playing, but my legs wouldn't listen.

The tiny metal room echoed like a coffin, so I resisted the only way I could. I turned up the bass on my pendant and shimmied out of my loincloth.

I laid on my back wiggling my feet with my hands beside me, picturing my mates on either side of me. My left hand ran up the tendons of my inner thigh and then lightly caressed the smooth curve of my lower lips.

The little galley bedroom was chilly and made my nipples stand on end the second I released them.

Visions of my mates' physical details saturated my thoughts. Their weight, their quills, the tips of their quills caressing my neck.

My claws on my skin, combined with the scent of my own moisture, made me ache to have their hands all over me.

I rocked my hips while indulging in the memory of my tongue between my mate's cocks, all the while applying just a little bit of pressure down the center with my two middle fingers.

My claws pulled back slick.

I was a mess.

How did the outside of my hip get wet?

I slid one finger in and fantasized that it was one of Shale's thick red-tipped long quills. Then I snickered upon recalling that time when we got a tad too immersed and I almost permanently cut off circulation when I climaxed.

Shale was initially rattled, but the pain made him feisty.

Zhaguai certainly get revved up when their endurance is challenged!

I suspended my probing and switched to rubbing my labia. The sensation lacked intensity, but a thousand years of experience had proved that the combination was vital.

My fingers oscillated between inward and over, flicking at the speed I knew to be most potent while taking the time to attend to the yearning cluster of nerves hidden just below the surface.

I giggled between breaths.

Despite all my centuries practicing solo, I was a bit ashamed to confess that Eh'kt had not only mastered but improved upon my techniques in less than half a cycle.

The recollection of Eh'kt's growl made my ears shudder.

Vestigial apparitions of Eh'kt's hand on Shale flooded to the forefront.

They actually kept their word about being alone together.

It was wild watching Eh'kt touch Shale in a manner I'd never seen him embrace himself.

Sorry Shale, he's got both our numbers now.

I explored deeper, propelled by the image of my mates' fangs and quills interlocked together.

Eh'kt wasn't expecting it, but he reciprocated.

It was different than when their females kiss. Both sought dominance, yet the impact was consensual, vulnerable, and intimate.

I rolled onto my tummy and applied more pressure with my palm.

The pair of them and their mutual bond were everything.

Eh'kt thrived on tactics and discipline, but his greatest gambit was that he didn't need any of it. A nuisance he often overlooked, but it shined through every time he sat with our sons telling stories of his Dreads. He'd get wrapped up in their absorbent little silver eyes and ad-lib silly sound effects just to make them laugh.

And then there was Shale, our paradigm of professionalism. He was ever vigilant of those around him and a master of inspiring loyalty in the hearts of every person under his command. However, when the walls came down, his passions poured out. I doubted even death could prevent him from protecting our family.

My ears slacked, and I panted out loud.

What I wouldn't give to have them both ride me right now!

Would hard light comms work?

Would the connection hold?

Could I get clearance?

I sat up on my knees and pressed my bare chest and nipples against the wall with my fingers steeped to the knuckle.

I exhaled a shameless moan that echoed off the metal wall.

My thoughts condensed and expanded on the rhythm of their heartbeats as I envisioned the pair of them planting themselves in me.

I was tipsy and swirling my hips impulsively as my pussy begged for their phantom cocks to pillage me and reaffirm their claim.

Strange involuntary but welcomed tremors crept in, signaling it was time to remove my fingers.

I kept the pressure up on the outside and racked my free claws along the black wall.

The heat within congested and my entire body crimped forward of its own volition.

It felt like plunging headfirst into a vortex of a high-pitched note and finding myself awash in an endless current of revolving light.

.

.

.

The little bed vibrated as I came to.

My wristcomm that I had discarded at the foot of the bed was buzzing.

Groon was requesting my presence on the bridge.

I sat up, realizing my thighs and ankles were drenched.

"Way to project the facade that you've got your act together, Elder," I snarked sarcastically at my disheveled state. "At least I'll be relaxed if there's any hand-to-hand combat."

Then I made a quick detour into the room's narrow shower and rinsed off before heading out.

...

"Alpha!" Shar'koth was on his feet, wide-eyed and tapping his keypad console like a madman. "The anomaly is fluctuating!"

An image of the desolate space surrounding the rogue planet hovered on the largest viewscreen at the front of the bridge.

At the center, the stars elongated and then spun in unison.

"A wormhole!" Shar'koth informed the command deck.

"Weapons and interceptors on standby," the Master Gunner updated his alpha.

"Hold," Groon narrowed his eyes as the dark gaping circle opened in front of us.

A shimmering circle of lights expanded into a large hollow fissure filled with a wavy iridescent liquid. On the other side, sat another uncharted solar system with a sinister red planet orbiting in the third position.

"No Graven or minions detected," Shar'koth spoke up.

"Disperse sensor drones," Groon commanded. "And prepare to-"

"Alpha," Shar'koth interrupted.

Groon rumbled, but let his lead science officer speak, as he knew the officer would never dare make such a transgression if it wasn't important.

"There's an incoming signal from the red planet," Shar'koth turned to his Alpha.

Groon nodded, and Shar'koth let the communication play over the bridge's comms.

It was a standard Nexus distress signal augmented with a short digital recount of a mass invasion and the estimated casualty count.

"How far is the other side?" Groon inquired. "Are the new long-range communication satellites relays operationa-"

"Can you turn it up?" I stepped forward completely, immersed in the audio subtleties.

Groon grumbled at the second interruption but nodded at Shar'koth to comply while scooting up in his chair from his own curiosity.

Shar'koth restarted the recording at a higher volume.

"There," I held up my hand, signaling for him to pause it. "Are you able to pull out the treble?"

Shar'koth compiled, and I could make out a soft gurgling voice.

"I know this song," my chest felt cold.

Shar'koth enhanced the melody to allow the Zhaguai in the room to hear it with me.

"Does it have meaning?" Groon clicked at me.

"Yes," rage surged from my toes up to my fingertips. "Bold Step would sing it to draw out his enemies."

"Alpha," Shar'koth chimed in. "The wormhole is shrinking, slowly."

"A most tempting challenge," Groon chittered boldly.

"The communications array is functioning," Shar'koth answered his Alpha's previous question. "This star system is beyond our jump network, but not so far that we couldn't return by normal propulsions."

"But we will be alone," Groon raised his head. "And beyond receiving assistance from our fellow clans."

"What say you, Elder," Groon smiled at me with his eyes blazing like raw plasma.

"Jahaa does not abandon their own."

"Appraise Oru and the Nexus of our destination and intentions," Groon stood up with his thick, black claws raised high. "Stand with me, my brothers and sisters! The enemy will feel the sting of our blades and the full might of Jahaa!"

...

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