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“Blake, are you decent?”
“I am.” Blake didn't bother to look up immediately as his door slid open, lying belly-first on this bed, reflecting. Jenna's shoes clapped against the floor and he finally turned his head to acknowledge her. “Are you feeling alright?”
Jenna nodded, taking the seat by the wall. “I'm fine. Just went to Cally in the medical bay. A few superficial ropeburns, but nothing she couldn't fix.”
Blake nodded too, aware that, compared to some of their scrapes, the encounter with Giroc, Sinnofar and of course Travis hadn't gone too badly. Still... “I'm sorry I got you in trouble.”
She scoffed. “I've seen worse.” Yes, that was definitely true as well. Nervously, he started to chew on his thumbnail, and Jenna gave him a curious look. “Blake, are you feeling alright?”
He sighed. He supposed there was no point lying to her. “Are you sure I did the right thing? Letting Travis go?”
Jenna blinked, apparently surprised to be asked. “Well, Sinofar seemed to think so,” she said. “And I'm sure you did what you thought was right.”
“So that's a no then,” he chuckled, and she sighed.
“It's not what I would have done. You can make of that what you will.” A pause. She kept looking at him, questioning, until apparently she came to a conclusion. “Blake, you need to relax.”
Quickly she got up from her chair to join him on the bed, straddling his lower back with one knee either side of him. Blake did not resist. “Jenna,” he gasped as her soft hands ran through his curls, tugging just hard enough to make him start to squirm.
“Shh.” She leaned down to kiss the back of his neck. “We have time. I can be quick. Relax.”
Blake groaned. He trusted Jenna implicitly, and she knew that. He didn't like to think he was teasing her, offering something he could not fully give, but she didn't seem to think of it that way – she enjoyed putting him to rights when he needed it, and expected nothing else. And oh, how he needed it sometimes. Sometimes the fate of the whole galaxy was too much even for him.
He worried about Travis. It had felt right, letting him go, at the time – but Blake knew he wasn't the only one who would suffer the consequences of that decision. He wasn't sure he understood his own motives for it, and that was always unsettling – a disturbing reminder of the many holes that remained in his memory, and how much his sense of who he was had to be patched together from bits and pieces.
“Relax,” Jenna reminded him, and Blake nodded, giving himself over to her to the best of his ability. He reached to unbutton his shirt while she slid open the drawer containing her harness and toy casually, the other hand slipping two fingers into Blake's mouth to replace his thumb. “You know, it's a pity we didn't save the ropes.”
Around her fingers, Blake laughed.
“Harder.”
“Yes, Commander.”
Travis grunted, leather clad fingers digging into the sheets of his bunk as the mutoid – not Kiera, not anymore – obeyed his order, the odd mix of metal and plastic that was her groin bruising against his skin. Mutoids could easily be modified to have a mix of genital configurations that did not necessarily align with the rest of their bodies. Ostensibly, they were not meant to be used for sexual purposes, but Travis had never met a commander who didn't. Why else would they be designed that way?
He bit his lip not to moan as his legs spread further, welcoming what passed for her cock deeper into his body. It was a vulnerable position he was in, on his back with his knees in the air, but mutoids were not given to insubordination or blackmail.
Of course, that same lack of initiative made them unremarkable lovers – they could not tease, or surprise, or reward, or know you better than you knew yourself. They could only obey orders. Still, what they lacked in technique they made up in discretion.
Travis moved a gloved hand to stroke his own cock roughly, knowing he had finish quickly so he could resume his duties. He thought about Blake. The man had been so close to killing him, had him at spearpoint, wanted to do it, and he... let him go. For some romantic notion. Travis would not have made the same mistake. He would have...
He came with a low groan, semen splashing onto the mutoid's metal armour. By some instinct she stopped moving, and Travis pushed her away. “Enough. I'm finished.”
He might have a cock strapped to Kiera's body so she could fuck him whenever he needed it, until he could pursue his duty without distraction or delay, but she still wore the face of a woman – a beautiful woman to boot. There was nothing deviant about him.
She stood and he hurriedly pulled up his trousers and fastened them, now fully clothed. “I hope you are pleased, Commander.”
And are you? he was tempted to ask, but it would be pointless – he knew perfectly well she wasn't capable of that sort of pleasure, not anymore. If anything, perhaps she hoped that pleasing him well enough would dissuade him from having her decommissioned.
But that would be foolish. She knew she was just a tool to be used, one he could easily replace – for this as much as anything else.
Travis ignored her. He had a duty to fulfill – Blake, and he would chase him until the end of the universe.