It was not even midday, just past 4000 and she had to burn some of her pent-up energy. Hence, she searched for a gym on her pad. There was one, a quarter rotation away on the outmost public deck, the docking ring. The logical place, a gym must be in the highest gravity region of the station. It called itself an 'open gym', open for all races and all genders. She was curious about what aliens would work out there.
She used the stairs since the docking ring was just one deck up. She was apparently their first user in years, the stairwell was dusty and even some lights were broken. She exited by a nondescript door with a lock screen at the outside and jogged the short distance to the gym as a warm-up.
The gym was built in place of a derelict docking port. When she pushed the entry curtain to the side, she froze. A male was sitting behind the desk. He looked up and smiled. "Hello, welcome to Lead's Gym."
She slowly approached him. That male certainly worked out a lot. He could probably even take on Traxy and Tryxa together. "Er, I want to work out."
"You can have a free trial day and then join normally for 1.90 per session. Or buy 15 sessions for 15 and you get a training uniform for free", he replied almost automatically looking at his desk.
His smell was so strong and she was still high from Ken, her body responded on her own. Only now, she had fully processed the words. Yes, a new work out uniform was a good idea. "I take the 15 sessions." She held out her pad until the payment was registered.
"Please wait a moment." He dug under the counter. A pair of shorts was dumped on the desk. "But I have nothing in your size for a female."
Her heart beat faster, he had recognized her correctly. If her brain had worked properly, it would have told her that her current clothing did not leave much to imagination and her smell ... Instead, she just smiled madly.
"I can offer you a male crop top in your approximate size. But it has zero support", he spoke still from under the counter.
"No problem, not much to support."
"Ouch". He came up holding his head. "Still nice, er", he gulped, "sorry, here you are, sorry.” He shook his head as he shook out water. “You worked out on a station before?"
"No, last time was on the planet."
"Ok. Since our gravity comes from rotation, you should alternate on each visit with the machines to the left and right from the entrance. The layout is mirrored. Thus, the Coriolis forces will even out between visits." He took a deep breath and looked down on his desk again. "Please enjoy your visit."
"Thank you. Also for not mistaking me for a male."
He fletched his teeth and his tail was going. "My eyes and nose are working. And your buffed body goes rather well with ..."
"You find me attractive?" A male, not put off!
"Girl, I run a gym. Seeing your well-defined muscles moving under your short fur is triggering all my, ugh." He was panting with a slightly open mouth and grabbed hard the sides of the counter so that his muscles looked even stronger. "I wish there would be suppressants for males", he sighed.
"You want to make out with me?" she asked, still expecting rejection.
"Please, stop tormenting me", while slowly nodding.
"No, I mean it", she licked her also swollen lips, "Now where?"
Without further words, he put a 'back soon' sign on the desk and directed her to the staff door.
The room behind it was not so different from her cabin. Only that it showed signs of someone living there for a longer time: There were paperwork and printouts on the table, parts of a broken machine on the floor next to it, old cups of supplementals, a basket with dirty laundry and uncleaned dishes in a sink. There was no shower and no toilet though.
He straightened the bed sheet which was thankfully not a bunk bed.
She had discarded her top already.
* * *
She lay on his hot hard-muscled body, both felt the vibrations of their synchronized afterglow purring.
"Thank you", she purred.
"No, my pleasure. It was really nice." Yet, he sighed. "And now, I will be good for another three days at least. Stupid genes."
"Yes, stupid", she agreed half-heartedly, not digging further into the 'three days' comment. Instead, she traced his impressive muscles.
"Now, with the fog gone, please tell me your name again. I am Lead."
"I am Rerra." She nibbled again on his neck which tasted so nice.
He winced.
"This is your cabin?"
"The gym is mine, so welcome to my bed."
"I don't feel the bed, only Lead."
They giggled together at her stupid play of words.
"Thanks again. I am very impressed that you run a gym."
"Males are not retarded. Just pressed into their roles by society."
"Sorry", she should have been more sensitive. Thus, she added, "I am also going against my clan."
"Well, misfits attract each other."
She said nothing. Still too happy.
He suddenly started to rise. "I am sorry, but I think I saw someone on the monitor going to the changing area. Business calling. You still want to work out today?"
She hesitated just a moment. "Yes, I delayed that for too long already."
"If there is time, I might join you for a bit. Ok, go out first and go to the right for this session. That area is empty. I still have a reputation to uphold of being a serious business tomcat."
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She got the hint and soon was out in her smelly clothes, saving the new clean gym uniform for the way home.
She had missed a proper workup. Soon she was in the zone. It felt harder than a week ago, the days in reduced gravity had made her a little soft.
It was 5500 when she noticed a message on her pad. Ken wanted to meet Trina and her at 6000 in the shipyard’s office, the real office. She quickly showered and changed to the gym uniform which really showed her every contour. But for now, her insecurities had been blown away by Lead. She did not care if people thought that she was on drugs with her furious smile. Today was the best day of her life: She got a ship, a new friend from a founding family, and met a male who admired her for herself, or at least, for her body.
* * *
She hurried to the shipyard's office but it was 6012 when she arrived. Trina and Ken stood at the window each with a cup of hot tea and turned to her.
Trina raised her ears upon seeing her. "Rerra, what did you do? You went for even more daring and." She stopped and sniffed again. "Oh. Already celebrated?" She looked at Ken. "Ok, I want all the juicy details later. Let’s start the business."
Before she could even answer, Ken raised his cup: "Cheers, Rerra. I appreciate the effort to reduce your tease, but I am sorry to report that you failed spectacularly."
It rather added to her confusion, and thus it took her a moment to process his remark. "Oh!" She looked down at her new grey gym uniform. Ok, the nipples were a little visible but still. "Should I get something else?"
"No, just stay true to yourself."
Trina burst into laughter and even spilt her tea. She took a few moments to get herself under control. "Rerra of the long-sleeved shirts, please no, not your old self, rather more of this", and turned back to the window, still snickering.
Even Trina was positive about her showing literally her skin? But right now, she did not care. She went to the window next to Trina and looked fascinated at the assortment of jump coils, main engines and two fusion cores secured on the large moving platform next to the wide multistandard freight docking port. She had not seen these core parts of a ship yet in full, only some bottom or top parts from afar when she was in a duct where she had to rewire some connections too. So far, she had only worked on less critical systems.
"Penny here, the floater drones are in position to move hull 472."
"Wait a moment, there is still a fusion core to secure and three Vasimirs to unload."
"Can I get the, err, hull 472 registration, papers, and manuals?" she asked Ken.
"Oh, yes, of course, sent. But I could not find a matching manual, only one for the prototype."
She scrolled through the official documents first. "There is really a space-worthy certification? Why, that is pretty useless, it means it does not leak. One can certify a can of soda space-worthy."
"Wait till you see her. Be happy she has one."
So that was the first catch.
"And then this certificate of ownership. That history only goes back 12 years and the origin is IS, what does this mean?"
"IS is InterStellar, she was found drifting off route."
Ok, so here was the second catch. "Is there much more for me to worry?"
"She has no AI."
"No AI?" That was definitely the most worrisome so far, an AI volunteering for such a ship might be hard to get.
"No, Sagans never had. Lots of assistant systems but no coordinating AI. Flown more or less manually, like expected of a true sportsman."
Somehow, her childhood spaceship trump cards have neglected to mention that. The Sagan Melorian II had been her favourite card because she was top in all categories other than cargo capacity and length. But flying without AI while she had not even sat in a real ship's cockpit ... Now she got cold feet.
"Traxy here, we are finished. Penny, your turn."
"Ok", came Penny's voice, "I am getting hull 472 out now."
She went with her snout so close to the glass that it fogged. Now a real Sagan Melorian II was floating out of the docking port into the shipyard. She was tiny, the smallest ship in the yard. Her shape was that of a wedged oval, with a sharp edge at the equator and a big bulge 2/3 aft which contained the fusion core. There were even two real cockpit windows at the very front of the bulge. The aft was like one had cut off 1/8th of the oval with a sharp knife and then made three perfect circular and very dark holes. These were the three plasma torches, the strongest quasi-static pulsed plasma drives ever built by humans, at least according to the details on the back of that ancient trump card. Admittedly, today’s state-of-the-art were dynamic plasma engines but these were bulkier. Apart from the sharp equator rim and the flat in the back, the Sagan was all flowing lines. And while the Sagan was only rated for open space and would burn on reentry, she looked certainly capable of it. Even dirty, with miscoloured and some missing hull plating, she was a beauty.
As soon as the Sagan was fully in the yard, she ran out of the office as fast as she could do in the low gravity. She was at the Sagan before the drones had even fully powered down, ignoring the dust blown up by them. As soon as Penny had switched off the drones, she touched the ship and felt the surprisingly rough hull plating. But in vacuum it would not matter.
"A little too large and too expensive for a cuddling toy", came Penny's remark.
She still smiled even at that remark. "Isn't she beautiful?"
"Well, hull 472 has good aesthetics", Penny conceded.
Now also Ken and Trina walked down the stairs and jumped in wide low-g strides towards her.
"The shape had certainly appeal", Trina commented, "But I wonder how one can get a profit from such a small ship."
"Quick passenger transit, courier services", answered Ken to her relief, "And maybe speciality charter. But honestly, the best option would be to restore her to her old glory and find a collector."
"No", she said, "I will fly her. You said you would do a test jump with me. I am ready."
"I appreciate your enthusiasm. But she is cold. It will need half a day to get her ready", Ken brought her back to reality.
"Then let's start now. Come pretty please." She almost purred, looking wide-eyed at Ken while her tail swung playfully to either side outside her conscious control.
Ken laughed. "Ok, cuteness overload wins." He went to the aft and opened a panel. "He we need to connect auxiliary power to boot up the basic services."
Trina interjected: "Before you do anything in here, Penny, have the drones enough juice left to get the hull into airlock I?"
"Yes, but that means a full sweeping of the yard."
"Come Rerra, you can touch her later." Trina tugged her back to the office where the rest of the crew had been taking a break. Minus Roberta, she had taken half a day off as soon as she had heard that a visitor would come.
And Penny had not exaggerated, moving the Sagan into their smallest airlock across the yard blew up so much dust that hull 472 almost vanished from their view. There were a lot of circulation filters complaining too.
“So, Rerra, that will be your turn on filter duty tomorrow.”
She just nodded absently. When the hull was in the airlock, Penny released the drones and they returned to their charging stations.
After most of the dust had been sucked out into the filters, the shipyard's crew went back to whatever task this had interrupted. Only Penny went with Ken and her. Together they half walked and half floated through the still open airlock in the hub, the weightless region. They connected a flexible universal docking adapter, short UDA, to the top of the bulge on the Sagan where the entry was. It would be the only way to enter the Sagan later when the airlock was evacuated. Since the Sagan was without power, they had to connect the auxiliary start-up power manually from the UDA. Immediately, the Sagan reported with a status message full of errors and warnings to their systems. Now they could fully connect to the UDA.
To enter, they had to get out of the airlock and then climb to the airlock's internal docking port. From there, they would float down through the UDA.
Since they would evacuate the airlock too, and the live support was not primed, She and Penny put on the shipyard's thinsuits and waited for Ken to get his spacesuit. The suits made the floating down the flexible hose of the UDA a challenge. And the Sagan’s hatch was small, the twins would not fit.
Her fur inside the thinsuit tried to stand up when she was at the hatch. The Sagan Melorian II series had been built 232 to 223 years ago, that ship was older than her race. She felt like she was entering an ancient alien artefact. It was dark and narrow inside like in a drama, the only light was via the cockpit windows and their helmet lamps. A single small red screen glowed low near the entrance.
Ken explained that this was the docking console which also operated the light controls and let her lighten up the cockpit. The Sagan had five large, dedicated consoles doubled on either side, and a large horizontal in the centre, which was quite an outdated design. All dark.
Without AI, all the console’s data were important, Ken stressed. Now, with the light, she could see that the restoration had not come very far. Three-quarters of the inner panelling had been removed; everywhere one had an excellent view of the inner workings, the ducts, cables, and tubes of the ship. The skeletal frame only hinted at the elegance of the cockpit once. But the exposed inner workings were as utilitarian as on any ship. Rather more crowded given the lack of space.