Existence, maybe a week or so before everything went to shit:

Bill was hot.

And again, I don’t mean in that ‘lather him up in syrup and become a diabetic’ kinda way, but in the ‘holy shit it feels like it’s 100 degrees in here’ kinda way. Stripped right down to his boxer-briefs (and no, he wouldn’t take those off no matter how bad it got) he honestly considered investing in a private air conditioning unit, or possibly one of those giant ice machines that you could crawl inside but were never supposed to (but you did anyway because you were 5 and your parents were a bit absentee).

He even idly mused about ripping out the temperature coils in his room and exposing it to the cold vacuum of space, but unfortunately he was no Engineer. Bill was, if you could believe it, a navigator.

Well. “Navigator”.

The great thing about the Galactic Senate was that each member race has been expanding for thousands of years – which means there are millions of planets, billions of ships and trillions of sapients that they can call upon. As part of the peaceful uplift of Earth (and rebuilding of Atlanta), the Galactic Senate agreed to allow any human, regardless of their qualifications, to live and work on any ship, station or planet of their choosing – within reason. Obviously, after a few really enthusiastic engineers collapsed one of the Karnakian drone farms into an artificial moon, some reasonable limitations were put in place.

Nobody could say the Karnakians didn’t deserve it, though. Just a little.

Regardless, Bill was a… well his official title translated into “Trainee Temporary Junior Navigator Intern (unpaid)” but “Junior Navigator” was all he responded to, and so the rest of the Dorarizin onboard were more than content to address him with that title. They even gave him a uniform to go with it.

He shifted slightly, kicking out a leg from under his bedmate to cool his body temperature down a little. The shift was met with a murmured protest, and strong arms pulled him a bit tigher into a fluffy chest. At the beginning of his tour, he didn’t mind that the Dorarizin were group-sleepers; honestly, it was a bit cute.

Then he learned that he’d be staying in the men’s dorm.

Then he learned that, to a person, they were all cuddlers.

Then he learned that double-bunking was not only encouraged, but it was required.

Bill sighed and attempted to get comfortable as his current bedmate let out a loud snore, tongue flopping out onto his forehead.

———————————————————————————————————–

Grashak-of-Arhraf was having an excellent dream.

He had chased down a golden erzet, netting his Hunt team an additional 30 points. Even though he was a rookie, on a team nobody heard of, and a male, he was holding his own against the Iron Jaws.

Scratch that. The Iron Jaws were losing.

Raising his arms he let out a triumphant roar, the golden erzet projection disintegrating in his mouth as he crushed it’s neck, mimicking a death bite – the crowd echoing his passion and fury in an overwhelming cacophony of sound. He was going to beat a core world team, and he was going to do it himself! He ignored the pinching pain in his side and crouched on all fours, gripping the turf with his unsheathed claws.

The pain traveled to both sides and got a little worse, but he blocked it from his senses. The crowd was chanting his name! The crowd was–

With an earsplitting shriek of translator feedback, Grashak-of-Arhraf woke up with a start. He inhaled deeply, shifting on his bed. Something squirmed in his grip, and as he pulled his tongue back into his maw he remembered: Tonight was his night with the [Human].

“{Damnit – [Bill] I’m so sorry! Oh by The Pale Moon are you ok?!}” Grashak exclaimed, quickly propping himself up above the pillows. Bill gasped underneath him, breathing heavily. (not like that)

” {No, no – are you hurt?!}” Grashak’s cold nose prodded his friend’s body, checking him for damage – for the scent of blood and bruising, or of deeper, worse things. Thankfully, he was only met with his own scent intermingled with sweat.

“{I uh…. I rolled over onto you again, didn’t I?}”

Bill nodded, his breathing beginning to steady. “[Yeah, yeah you did buddy. It would’ve been fine until you started to move about in your sleep… that’s when I got concerned.]”

Grashak blushed furiously. “{P-please don’t tell anyone that I still chase in my sleep – I haven’t done that since my second claw molt.}”

Bill grinned, propping himself up on his elbows. “[Hey, it’s fine – bros helping bros, right?]”

“{Y-yeah. Uh, well, good news – you should be fine for a few days with the females.}”

“[Really?]” Bill went to sniff himself, scrunching his inefficient nose slightly. “[Gah… I can never tell. I just smell like heat and sweat to me.]”

“{Yes, well… your noses aren’t all that, uh. Great.}” Grashak murmured, leaning back to sit on his rump, tail swishing slowly from side to side.

“[And you’re all still certain there’s no way to synthesize this scent at all? Granted, I like not being taken by a group of females against my will, but-]”

“{N-no, sorry. Scents mean so much; they change based on diet, mood, age….it’s too complicated. Eventually everyone would go noseblind to your static scent and then you’d be, what’s the phrase? [Up shit creek]?}”

Bill hummed to himself, pursing his lips. “[Well. Better the devil you know, I guess. Anyway, our shift starts in 3 hours – roll over.]”

Grashak tilted his head slightly, ears swiveling back. “{But didn’t that start all this?}”

“[N-no. I mean, onto your side. I’m big spoon now.]”

“{Ah.}” Grashak propped himself up with an arm and turned to the side, settling back down into the den. A few moments later he felt a tiny hand rest on his side. “{Thank you again for not telling anyone, [Bill].}” The small hand pats him a few times, and Grashak twitched his tail in acknowledgement.

Bill cursed silently as his bunkmate’s tail smacked him right in the jewels.

————————————————————————————————————

“[SHIFT CALL. LINE UP FOR INSPECTION, YOU KNOW THE CHASE.]”

Bill stretched as he stood in line, his shift sergeant making the way down the ranks. Every so often Sgt. Rauleh-of-Nragren would stop infront of one of her charges, tugging on a belt or checking a tank, before moving onto the next victim. Even though there were automated ways to check gear, the Dorarizin were a very… physical species. This gear check was just another carryover of ‘the time before’, and because nobody of any species ever really questioned tradition, here he was, waiting his turn to be poked and prodded.However, it didn’t help that she, like most females, were a little more… physical with Bill than he would have liked, but. It all comes with the territory.

“[Bill. Good Morning.]” Rauleh grinned, showing off three rows of pearly whites. Gently she leaned forward, and Bill suppressed his fight of flight instinct with practiced ease. Closer the jaws came to the top of his head, her hot breath cascading down his crown until –

*sniff*

“[Ah. Well good to see that you’re still in great health!]” she beamed, leaning back.

“Aye, Ma’am. Your night cycle being 10 of my hours leads to me catching up on all the sleep I’ve ever missed. Anything on the docket for today?”

“[Mmmm.]” Rauleh reaches out, extending two 30cm claws, pinching his uniform’s fabric on the shoulder. “[Just standard ore extraction on the planetoid we’re orbiting – well, for them. For you…]”

“Aww, Rails, come on. Give me something other than simulation duty again.” Bill complained as his uniform was adjusted slightly, then released.

“[Well. If you don’t mind me supervising you-]”

“Destroy the station once in a simulation and nobody ever-“

“[-we do have to put out a few more GPS probes in orbit today.]”

“-could supervise me quite like you, my newest and bestest friend.” Bill recovered, giving Sgt. Rauleh his winningest smile.

“[Hah! Excellent recovery – so I take it I can count on your help?]” Sgt. Rauleh-of-Nragren growled, returning Bill’s smile with a cocky one of her own.

Bill saluted. “You can count on me!”

Unnoticed by him, a few tails swayed from side to side.