A ship-wide declaration announced the conclusion of decontamination procedures for the Prospector.  The corridors had been cleared for tiny, hovering drones to go over every room, scan every compartment, and briefly poke every crewmember for a minute tissue sample.  The robots departed once every surface and body had been determined to be free of horrible flesh-eating contagions, and the Prospector crew were given the all-clear to enter New Luxor.

The announcement had called all crew to the briefing room for one final meeting.  Captain Zeeva, tall, green-scaled, and businesslike, had the floor.  Executive officer Anders stood dutifully beside her, hands casually clasped behind his back.  Columns of jittery, energetic miners, engineers, doctors, and maintenance workers fidgeted in their lines, all eager to get the hell off the ship for a few weeks.

"I can tell you're all ready to bust down the door, so we'll be quick here." the reptilian captain said with a grin. "Just remember what I said about your belongings, your livers, and your genitals.  Other than that, two things: One, I'd like to take a group photo in front of the boarding platform, because I'm a dumb, sentimental bitch." She didn't bother to glare away the snicker buzzing amongst the crew. "And two, we're bringing someone special along with us today."

The crew's laughter at her expense turned to questioning mumbles, and all eyes fell upon a mechanical figure emerging from the hallway.  Atlas's mobile platform was pure white and slender, with a face like a mouthless porcelain mask and glowing green eyes.  It strode on long, slim legs with a precision reserved for a cold, calculating machine.  The AI's avatar stopped beside its captain and surveyed the assembled crew. "Good afternoon, everyone.  It is nice to see you all at eye-level."

"Atlas's most valuable asset is its ability to learn." Anders spoke up, answering the unspoken questions floating about the crew. "And part of that is learning how to interact more naturally with people.  It can stare at star charts and browse the extranet all day and still not know a thing about communication.  Captain Zeeva purchased Atlas as practically a blank slate for this very reason: because AIs learn more naturally if they're taught through experience."

"Therefore," Atlas spoke up again. "It has been concluded that I shall accompany the crew on shore leave, under the assumption that my mobile platform will be supervised at all times."

"Looking like that, though..." Anders took a moment to scrutinize Atlas's monochrome, mechanical body. "People's reactions to you wouldn't be too natural."

The AI's verdant gaze turned to the old wolf and lingered for a long moment.  A thought appeared to come to mind as its posture straightened. "Of course, executive officer Anders.  If I may, I believe I have a solution to this problem."

"By all means."

"Go for it, Atlas." Zeeva said with a smile most often reserved for her cherished AI. "It's nice to see some initiative already."

Atlas strode purposefully toward the hall, stopping to glance at a slight disturbance within the crowd.  Neither of the command staff could tell what was going on, but they could see a familiar panda boy frantically shaking his head in the AI's direction.  Atlas regarded him for just a few seconds, then continued on its way out the door.

"Something to share with us, Mr. Shou?" Anders cast the shuttle pilot and miner a suspicious glance.

"No, sir!  Why do you ask?" Lin's cheeks were blazing red.  He kept trying to hide behind other crewmembers, but they all knew better than to get between a wolf and its prey.

Zeeva breathed out an annoyed sigh. "He's just being himself.  So, everyone's got their immuno-boosts, no one's gonna pass the next plague onto anyone on the station, and everything is just peachy.  All non-essential systems are locked down?"

"The ship sleeps soundly, captain." Chief engineer Chad, a tall border collie, called out from the crowd.

"Fantastic.  Drive core?"

Warp technician Niira spoke up. "Stable, running at minimum power."

"Everything's fine, captain." Anders said, clapping the reptilian woman on the shoulder. "We've got this."

Zeeva breathed in deep and nodded. "I know.  You're all on top of your game, despite the long wait.  I just want everything to go... right..?"

All eyes slowly followed the captain's mortified stare.  Atlas had returned, but its clinical robotic frame had been replaced by something more... natural.  Carbon fiber and plasteel coverings gave way to slender arms and legs, a curvaceous, yet undeniably masculine torso and a cute face fit for a swimsuit calendar.  The synthetic red panda was almost entirely passable for a real boy, save for the mechanical glow of its deep green eyes.

"I am prepared to disembark, captain." It was definitely not Atlas's voice, but the mannerisms were all there.  Straight posture, attentive gaze, direct and proper grammar... Totally unfit for his boyish tone.

"At...las..?" Zeeva took two steps forward, her mouth agape. "Wh... What in the..."

"Does my form distress you, captain?"

The reptilian woman's cheeks practically glowed, her golden eyes wide as dinner plates. "Your 'form' is fine, Atlas, but don't you think you should... put something else on?"

Atlas looked around.  Everyone was staring, and more than a few crewmembers were leering wantingly.  He glanced down at the skimpy synthfiber speedo covering a very obvious bulge between his legs.  His bushy tail swished back and forth over a plump, barely-covered rear.  Furry brows raised, as if in realization. "Perhaps my attire is somewhat lacking."

A portion of the crowd was practically bowled over as Lin came shoving his way through the mass of bodies.  He grabbed Atlas by the wrist and, intentionally avoiding looking at Zeeva or Anders, shouted: "Atlas, buddy, you're indecent!  Indecent, I say!  Let's go get you some PANTS!"

"But Master Lin," the mechanical wah did not budge, even as Lin tried to drag him off. "I simply followed the images presented in--"

"LET'S GO!"

"Very well."

Zeeva could only gape at the two as they retreated from the briefing room.  Realization was the first thing to sink in, and a growing, fuming rage was soon to follow.  She sucked in a breath and let it out slow, her scaly brows knitted dangerously. "Of all the..."

"Should I write his pink slip?" Anders asked casually, apparently unfazed by the entire scene.

"Write him a fucking death threat for all I care.  We are ENJOYING these next few weeks, or I'm shooting someone!" Zeeva glared across the crowd, bringing its chuckling and mumbling to a deathly hush.  She took a long moment to steady her voice. "While Mr. Shou assists Atlas with his... outfit... we'll go over our AI's supervision.  Someone will have to be with Atlas while he's out and about.  As strong as he is, he isn't lacking in the ability to defend himself; however, there are laws that prohibit synthetics from harming organics.  Even in matters of self-defense, cases of AI violence are a slippery slope.  So whoever accompanies him will have to be very attentive."

Anders snerked. "Bet Lin's real attentive."

"Shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you."

A hand shot up from the crowd.  Dr. Flora emerged with a big smile. "I'll keep an eye on Atlas, captain."

Zeeva breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Roxxy.  You'll have the first 'shift', as it were, and someone can take over after a while." She stared through the rear corridor and scowled. "What in the hell is taking them so long?"

"I'll go light a fire under his ass." Anders stretched and popped his back. "Probably just slackin' off, like usual."

Atlas's maintenance platform stood just down the hall from the briefing room.  The tall structure was fastened to the station wall by an assortment of wires, tubes, and piping, with a thick glass door on the front.  Said door was still wide open, the inner chamber unoccupied.  On the other side of the platform, out of sight of any who might peek out the briefing room door, were Lin and Atlas.  The synthetic red panda was pressed up against the device, his flat chest pushing into cold steel as his organic counterpart growled into his ear.

"I told you not to tell the captain, Atlas!" Lin delivered a sharp spank to the AI's plump ass.  A grin tugged at his lips, despite the scolding words passing through them. "What were you thinking, walking out there in a thong?"

The robotic avatar did not react to the punishment delivered upon its juicy cheeks.  Glowing eyes focused inquisitively on Lin as Atlas looked back over his shoulder. "I am sorry, Master Lin.  But I did not tell Captain Zeeva that we had sex.  You, on the other hand, drew a significant amount of attention to yourself.  It can, therefore, be deduced that--"

"Oh shut up and squeal for me!" Lin was sure his hand would get sore before Atlas even felt any of his spanking, but he was pleased to hear him emulate it.  Loud yelps echoed through the hall after each firm swat against that delicious bubble butt. "You're a bad boy, Atlas."

"I'm sorry, Master!" the wah's tail swayed in a tantalizing, serpentine motion across his shapely back. "I am happy to indulge you in any way, should it help you de-stress."

"What did I tell you about being verbose?" Lin spun him around and pressed in close, their lips just barely touching. "That's alright, though.  I'll just shut you up, myself."

The sound of a man loudly clearing his throat jolted Lin out of his domineering rush.  XO Anders stood propped up against the wall with one hand, his right wrist held perpendicular to his chest as he stared down at his watch. "If you two are finished, captain's getting impatient."

"Anders!  It--It's not what it looks like!" Lin brushed down Atlas's roughed-up fur and stood straight. "I was just--you know--checking his um... his uh... measurements!  You know, for clothes!"

"Uh huh." the old wolf turned his gaze to the pair. "That'd be a funny excuse for the spanking, but not the tongue-stuffing."

The panda flushed bright pink and quickly ushered Atlas into his platform, where he swiftly shut the door, manned the control panel, and assembled a preset "gentleman" outfit for the slender wah.  The machine hummed to life, and Lin heaved a heavy sigh.  He avoided looking in Anders's direction. "I'm not fired, am I?"

"Huh?  Nah, captain's used to your shittery by now." Anders grinned and glanced at the tall, pod-like structure that currently housed Atlas's mobile platform. "'Sides, I don't think anyone figures you did more than have him pose for you."

"Don't coddle me.  They're all assuming I fucked him."

"And did you?"

"Well, yeah!" Lin shot him a look. "How could I NOT?"

Anders barked a laugh and pushed off from the wall.  He wandered past Lin and checked out the outfit preview displayed on the panel. "I mean, I can't blame you or anything.  I'm solely into the ladies, and even I'd consider tapping that ass."

Lin cringed. "Thanks, XO.  Really.  Old people sex was something my mind's eye was sorely lacking."

"Consider that your punishment for holding everyone up, then." the old wolf gave Atlas's platform a solid pat. "You'll be a class act in just a moment, Toaster."

"I am pleased to hear that, XO." came Atlas's voice from the control panel. "Material fabrication complete.  Cooling down."

The platform hissed as it vented its heat sinks into the ship's exhaust system.  Mechanical locks clunked and actuators whirred as the platform opened once more.  Out stepped the red panda'd Atlas, now sporting a dark blue blazer, white shirt with a black tie, and long navy dress pants.  His long tail swished back and forth through a space cut in the back of the jacket.

"Much better." Lin breathed, disguising his disappointment at having all that delicious red fur covered.

"Thank you, Master Lin.  Shall we return to the briefing room?"

"Yes.  Maybe you and Anders ought to go first, so I can... hide." Lin grumbled and let the two pass him in the hall.  He had no one to blame for this but himself.

The thong-clad AI incident blew over far more quickly than Lin could have ever hoped.  He counted himself lucky that Zeeva was so desperate for some time off.  The Prospector's airlock hissed as hydraulic motors opened the way to a long tunnel lined with reinforced glass windows.  The docking level buzzed with activity; smaller vessels followed flashing guide lights leading into the station proper, while large ships like the Prospector latched onto similar passenger bridges.  Other vessels sat in a parking orbit with the station, where shuttlecraft could ferry their passengers to and from the docking bay--Zeeva had paid a little extra for the privilege of skipping this step.  Politicians, royalty, and CEOs alike spent small fortunes on the station, but there was certainly something for even the plebians to enjoy.  Many of the larger corporations in SolGov space made vacations to New Luxor, effectively making it the one place on this side of the galaxy where the everyman and the elite were one and the same.

The tunnel's end opened the way to an elevator, which they took to the main level, chatting amongst themselves the whole ride up.  Excitement and anticipation mounted before the doors opened, and the crew were immediately blinded by the dizzying array of welcome lights.  Straight out the gate, New Luxor lived up to its nickname of "Space Vegas"; not an inch of station space was overlooked, and not a surface wasted for a chance to slap a large, holographic (or even old-timey neon) sign to advertise some venue where the rich and the poor alike could spend their every credit.  The dock-facing section was certainly more family-friendly than what lay toward the center, where the tall, domed ceiling sat at its highest and cast simulated sunlight or let the view of the stars in, depending on the time of day.  Announcements boomed over loudspeakers strategically-placed high up along the walls; one particular point was a reminder to keep all personal, corporate, and unbound synthetics supervised at all times.

"That means you, buddy!" Lin nudged Atlas's shoulder, then leaned in to stealthily murmur, "Don't worry, though.  I'll supervise you all you want."

"No you won't." Flora interjected with a firm shove to the back of Lin's head. "The synthfluff is mine to watch.  For now."

"It's hard to imagine there's room for all this shit." Anders remarked as they vacated the elevator, his ears pinned back to protect themselves from the cacophony now rising up around them. "A false sky, huge hangar deck, all the electronics that keep this light show running..."

"Let's not bog ourselves down with the logistics, Zeke." Zeeva prodded the old wolf to usher him toward a nearby wall. "Now come on, everyone.  Let's get the picture taken so you can all partake in whatever debauchery suits you."

The crew lined up, tallest behind shortest; a modest set of fifty individuals, from command crew to cooks, miners to medics.  The reptilian commander smiled in a strange, unfamiliar way as she set up the camera drone she'd brought along and joined her crew. "Ok, get ready!  Lin, I see one attempt at 'bunny ears', and I'll sell you to a pimp."

A bright flash marked the beginning of their three-week shore leave.  The Prospector crew split into segments, groups, couples, and drinking buddies, all swallowed up by the crowds as they made their way inward.  Finally, some time to relax.

"You are coming with me, handsome." Dr. Flora swiftly joined hands with Atlas as she slipped and wove through the crowd.  The synthetic red panda stepped deftly behind her, quite agile in all his mechanical grace and precision, easily keeping up.  Roxxy cast a quick glance over her bare, pink shoulder, then pointed ahead with her left hand. "I see a food cart!  Haven't eaten since breakfast." She paused, then looked back again. "So you... look really real.  You still don't eat, right?"

"That is correct, Dr. Jenkins." Atlas's boyish tone clashed oddly with his cold, precise way of speaking. "I am still entirely synthetic."

The vixen shrugged and pulled him along. "Just making sure!  Is there anywhere in particular you want to go?"

"I am pleased to go wherever you wish."

"You looked at the attractions, right?  Does anything interest you?"

Atlas bumped lightly against her as they came to a stop.  He watched with wide, glowing green eyes while a bored-looking human teenager prepared Flora a burger--a timeless classic, untouched by the passage of centuries. "How would you describe taste, Dr. Jenkins?"

Flora pondered that, holding the greasy sandwich in one hand, a biodegradable paper plate in the other.  The deep blue flowers clustered around her left ear twitched and fluttered, as if in contemplation. "That's... an interesting question, Atlas.  I'm not quite sure."

"Fascinating." the artificial red panda's pupils contracted and expanded as it focused its eye cameras on the vixen's open mouth, watching every motion as she bit into her meal. "Even as a doctor, you are unable to properly describe a basic organic experience."

"Wrrrll..." Flora mumbled around a mouthful of ground beef, holding the plate close to her muzzle to keep any grease from dripping down onto her dark blue sundress.  She took a moment to swallow before continuing. "How would you describe color to a creature without eyes?"

Atlas began in his usual mechanical way, "The process by which light is diffused and reflected by objects, depending on their physical and chemical composition."

"Yes, but how would you describe 'color'?  How it looks?  Like..." her tail swished to the left to find his and curl around it. "Your lovely, fiery orange.  How would you describe that to someone who's never been able to see?"

This time, Atlas's eyes focused on hers, and he appeared to process the idea for several long moments.  The proverbial gears turned in his head, which he finally canted lightly to the right. "I could not.  I believe I understand your inability, Dr. Jenkins."

"Not so easy, huh?" she wiped her muzzle clean with a napkin and licked at the grease remaining on her lips, then went for another bite of her burger.  She watched Atlas's curious eyes flick this way and that, and she knew he was absorbing every little thing.  Every minute detail, every face, every motion, every flashing, blinking, glowing light of every absurdly bright sign. "You're a technological marvel, Atlas.  I'm sure someone's coded a taste simulator for synthetics."

"I have yet to indulge in this curiosity.  Perhaps I will when it is time to settle in for the evening." Atlas's eyes shimmered as he wirelessly received and transmitted data from the station, the mechanical wah's soft padded feet carrying him swiftly along beside Flora as they made their way toward the park district.  A data point caught his attention, and his furry ears perked with interest. "There is an event at 17:30 in the central pavilion that I would like to attend, should we have the time."

"Yeah, of course!  What is it?" Flora's tablet pinged, and she pulled it from her purse to check the page Atlas had sent her.  She did a double-take, pushing her glasses up her snout as images of men and women of all sizes and species clad only in skimpy, sensual undergarments flashed before her eyes. "Ohmy--WHY?"

Atlas's vaguely canted head betrayed the innocense of his request. "Will it distress you?  We can attend a different event, and I will obtain recordings instead."

"No!  No, Atlas, it's fine.  I mean, I like eye candy, too." the vixen didn't bother to conceal the purr in her tone.  What was there to hide from an AI?  "I just didn't know you had... those kinds of needs."

"Oh." the wah's eyebrows rose just a hair. "You misunderstand.  I am not attending for erotic satisfaction."

"Then..?"

"It is for Master Lin's benefit."

A stiff, artificial breeze spaced the long, awkward silence between the two, which Flora broke with an amused sigh. "Of course it is.  I should have known he'd given you the idea.  And I imagine this," she gestured to his curvaceous waist, "is his doing, too?"

"He only told me not to tell the captain." Was there a tiny hint of a smirk on those kissable lips? "He did not specify any others."

"You'll have to fill me in on the juicy details." Flora remarked with a wide grin.  Oh, the dirt she could dig up to tease that cheeky panda with.  She listened with half-sadistic, half-aroused glee as Atlas regaled her with the most interesting encounter of synthetic-on-organic lovemaking, rounding the corner to a flower-filled park as the simulated sun neared the center of the domed ceiling.

The bright, colorful lights of the New Luxor Grand Casino were almost too much for a crew so used to sterile fluorescent bulbs and dark, deserted asteroids.  Lin thanked his better judgment for convincing him to turn down a drink right off the bat, leaving the bridge crew to wander off toward the bar, and heading onto the gambling floor with the miners and engineers.  The grease monkeys (but don't ever call them that, because an actual monkey worked down in plumbing and HVAC) were all quite familiar with one another, and would have been their own faction aboard the Prospector if the command staff and bridge crew weren't so friendly and personable.  Zeeva ran the ship like it was wartime, but no one really acted that way.

Credits turned to chips on the card and roulette tables.  Slot machines modeled after their early 20th century ancestors spun, buzzed, and rang antique bells as fortune after fortune lined up to be gambled away.  Drinks were passed around and laughs were had.  It was well into two hours cranking at the automated machines and penny slots before Lin decided to go back and join his braver coworkers.  The rearmost tables, where those possessed of tar-filled lungs elected to play, hung in an acrid air of smoke from every variety of inhalable toxin.  Cigarettes were still the most popular cancer stick in SolGov space, followed closely by cigars, cannabis, and electronic vaporizers.  The non-electronic variety of smokes hadn't gotten much more pleasant, but the Sol Systems Health Organization, formerly the WHO of Earth, had stepped in just a century ago to finally force the registered manufacturers to stop putting straight-up rat poison into the mix, along with a laundry list of other terrible things cigarettes had been known to contain.

The Prospector engineers and miners sat at one end of a large poker table, and Lin bought in at the next hand, trying not to choke on the poisoned air.  He sat beside River, a tomboy skunk, who gave him a friendly tail-floof in greeting. "Where's the chief?"

"Off to go look sullen elsewhere, I imagine." the skunk said with a roll of her eyes.  She had an accent like the English of old, but not so heavy as to belong in a fantasy film.  A common dialect of those born on Earth, rather than the colonies.  Pretty voice or no, she fit right in with the gearheads; toned, curt, and nursing a ragged-looking cigar.  The black shirt and tie she sported did little to dispel her position as "one of the guys".  The gentleman to her right, not of the crew, decided to call, and she, after a glance at her cards, tapped the table twice to indicate a check.

Lin followed suit, deciding to wait on the flop to see if the hand would be worth playing.  He peeked at his hand; a jack and an ace... Well, he had only the vaguest idea of how to play poker, and was only here to socialize, anyway. "What's wrong with him?"

Jack, a human miner across the table, and one of Lin's usual drinking buddies, scoffed.  He might have looked young, had years of manual labor not hardened his dark features, and maybe if he trimmed his very long brown hair back a little in the front. "It's ridiculous, but we promised we wouldn't talk about it anymore.  Suffice it to say, the guy's makin' a mountain out of a molehill."

Bets were made around the table, and the middle cards flopped.  Lin only passively recognized that he had a mediocre hand at best, but elected to play it anyway.  He took a quick look around the surrounding tables and, surely enough, saw no sign of the chief engineer.  Odd, considering he was always so social.  "Maybe the noise is getting to him.  We're all so used to a ghost ship."

The others gave him a noncommittal, but definitely negative response.  They weren't above correcting him, even if they wouldn't flat-out tell.  Half the table folded as the cards in the middle turned over, and it finally came time to reveal all remaining hands.  Lin's disappointing ace high looked even less impressive than Jack's pair of kings, but River's hand brought a collective groan from the remaining gamblers.

"Three of a kind, to the one with the bushy tail!" the dealer called, and River smirked around her cigar and scooped up the chips pushed her way.

"Sorry, ladies and gents.  No shame in losin' to a girl, right?" That same smirk shot in Lin's direction. "Now since we can't make fun o' the chief, let's talk about you buggerin' Atlas!"

"Oh god, NO." Lin's cheeks flushed hot as the crew erupted into laughter, and he tried to hide his face against the poker table.  He'd almost forgotten about his AI companion's untimely reveal. "But I didn't--"

"Oh, did he stick it in you then?"

"NO!"

"'Oh, Atlas!  Do you have a vibrate function?'" Jack did his best Lin impression and pounded the table with an open palm as another bout of laughter rocked their side of the table.

Jerry, an older-looking rabbit with greying hair, practically choked on his drink to get out the next jab, "Now running buttsex.exe!"

"I hope you lubricated his piston!"

"Polished his rod!"

"Oiled up his sockets!"

The laughter was a veritable howl now, and Lin could only feel the humiliated rage building higher.  Somewhere among the hilarity, he could hear the dealer demanding that they keep it down and keep the game rolling, and some half-hearted bets were thrown down onto the table.  Lin threw his cards in and folded without even looking, wincing as River clapped him on the back after every other joke at his expense.

"The hell with you guys!" he suddenly said as the floodgates burst.  He rose from the table and glared at his coworkers. "Yeah, I fucked Atlas.  I fucked him raw!  I convinced an AI with zero interest in sex to bend over and take my glorious cock!  He loved it, too!  Could any of YOU make that claim?"

It was at this point that he realized the room had gone deathly silent.  Even the way-too-loud music seemed quieter, and he saw that every set of eyes at the surrounding tables was on him.  He felt a deep heat rush into his cheeks, and he endured the longest, most awkward silence of his life.

"Yeah, awright, Lin." River said quietly, her cigar dangling precariously from her open mouth. "Just a bit o' fun, loverboy."

"Lin the Magician, makes your clothes disappear." Jack said, downing the last of his drink.

"Even cold steel bends to Lin's magic staff." another engineer commented, and the others rattled off the affectionate nicknames they'd given him: Panda Power; Lin, the Lady's Sin; Lin of the Golden Cock, just to name a few.

The more appreciative joking calmed his embarrassed anger, and he took a deep breath to suck the rest of it down. "Thanks guys.  I'm gonna go, ah... have a drink, play another game."

The others bid him farewell as he collected what remained of his initial wager, and he left them to their bewildered giggles and snickers.  He was sure they'd gone right back to jokes about Atlas's fuel rod or whatever, but at least now he didn't have to hear it. "Motherfuckers forgot 'Lin, God of Sex'."

Lin went back to the slots for a while.  He was sure he'd seen River drool a little when Atlas strutted out in his near-naked glory, and Jerry, the old fuck, would probably tap anything that presented itself nowadays.  Even Jack, straight as he was, was likely to bend the rules for something as fuckable as the delicious red panda that had sauntered into the briefing room.  There were very few innocents aboard the Prospector, and even the untouchable Zeeva was more like an angry, dried up riverbed than an actual prude.

"Right, they're at the bar." he remembered, pulling the slot lever and watching the reels spin.  The bridge crew didn't know fatigue like the miners, doctors, and engineers did.  They didn't know how empty space really was, nor had they ever experienced the precarious footing one navigated when traversing the surface of an asteroid.  Still, that last dig had drained the last reserves of everyone's energy.  Even the guys and gals in their cushy seats had been running on fumes by the time they finished prepping the drills and ore collectors.

The excited ringing of bells jolted him from his thought, and he happily jammed his credit chit into the machine to collect a juicy two-thousand credit payout.  Nothing to write home about, but he could at least break even if he went a little too crazy.  He was just about to go drown the rest of his embarrassment at the bar when a familiar black and white fur pattern caught his eye.

Chief engineer Chad sat at a roulette table, one hand on a bright blue mixed drink, the other on the table.  He was a tall guy, not much older than Lin, fuzzy but not shaggy.  He was awfully well-groomed for a gearhead, black hair tumbling lazily down in wavy locks.

"Hey chief." Lin's greeting rocked the collie from some kind of stupor, and he nearly spilled his drink.  "Sorry.  Everything ok?"

"Oh.  Hi Shou." Chad looked away almost immediately and focused on the spinning roulette wheel. "Yeah, everything's... I'm good."

"Ya sure?  Seem kinda out of it." the panda sat and watched the bids being placed for the next spin. "Not a poker player?"

Chad snorted. "The guys just don't know when to keep their mouths shut.  I know we're all hurting for something to laugh at, but..." he gave Lin a cautious look, then went quiet.

Lin was a lot of things; dense, muleheaded, perverted, and lazy.  One thing he was not, however, was oblivious.  He could tell there was some stink in that eye he'd been given. "Alright." he said with a sigh, leaning in close with a questioning smile. "What'd I do?"

"I didn't say anything."

"No, but in case you haven't heard the rumors, body language is kinda my thing."

That seemed to rouse something unpleasant in the dog, and he became less stealthy about his disapproving glances. "Pretty sure we all know it, Shou."

Lin raised a brow.  That still wasn't an answer. "So, what?  Zeeva breathe down your neck about repairing the 'damage' I did to Atlas, or something?"

"I couldn't give less of a shit."

"Then what, man?" the smile was gone now. "We never really chat much, but you've always been passive at least.  So quit being so vague and tell me what I did."

Chad lifted his drink and downed it, one brown eye on Lin the entire time.  He set down the glass, regarded the panda for another uncomfortable moment, then simply said, "Niira."

Lin scoffed. "I never 'did' Niira.  I think I'd remember that."

"No, but you're right; everyone knows your reputation, Shou.  Everyone knows what you want from every woman you get friendly with."

"That's takin' it a little far, chief." the panda felt a surge of adrenaline flood into his limbs, bringing a dull ache along his arms and legs. "What do you care what I get up to anyway?"

"Niira isn't like the other women on the Prospector, Lin.  Selka are very keen and very sensitive to emotions, both their own and others'." Chad went to take another sip, then remembered he'd drained his glass and set it down again. "I see you two have been hanging out lately."

Lin tapped his index finger on the table, ignoring the game in progress just feet away from them. "We eat together sometimes, yeah."

"You're down in the core a lot, too."

The panda's patience wore thin. "You gonna tell me where you come in with all this?"

"As head of the engineering team, it falls to me to keep her focused.  And if she were to fall into emotional distress--"

"The hell are you implying, Chad?" Lin began to raise his voice, a dangerous growl creeping into his tone. "If selka are so good at reading people, you'd think Niira might realize it if someone only wanted to stuff her."

Chad opened his mouth, then shut it again, instead settling on a rumbling growl.  He slapped a stack of chips down on seventeen black and watched the roulette spin again.  The pair went silent for a time, Lin collecting himself, and Chad doing... whatever.  The panda found it difficult to read him now.  The ball came to a stop--twenty-five red.  Payouts were distributed, losses removed, and bets were taken again.  Chad didn't play this round. "You're a womanizer." he finally said.

"Yeah.  And?"

"Maybe that's ok for Jenkins, Olivera, Hunt, and whoever else's bed you've wormed your way into.  But don't pull that shit with Niira.  She deserves better."

"What?  Like you, Chad?" Lin watched the collie's eyes widen, and he couldn't help but smirk.  It was almost enough to just leave it at that, but he simply couldn't help himself. "That's why you're in here, and she's god-knows-where, right?"

The tiniest crack split from the tip of Chad's glass to the very bottom. "Get the hell out of here before I get us both arrested."

"Toodles." Lin walked off, feeling oddly pleased with himself over something so incredibly petty.  No wonder the other grease monkeys were so hushed up about it--Chad probably threatened them, too.  He idly wondered where Niira had decided to go as he made his way to the bar, keeping an eye out for the bridge staff.  He hadn't seen his selka friend since they left the Prospector.  It was true--they had started to hang out more since their initial conversation in Niira's quarters.  They'd spent most evenings together, and Lin occupied his spare time with visiting her at the drive core or her room when she invited him over.  Never had he even considered trying to jump the selka's bones; for one, she'd know it before even he did, and for two, well... she was too innocent for that.

Hell, she was probably too innocent to be wandering around alone in a place filled with desperate gamblers, whores, shady businessmen, and drug dealers.  Unlike Chad, the self-assumed knight in shining armor, though, Lin knew better.  He had no reason to worry; Niira could just slip into subspace if someone rubbed her the wrong way, literally or figuratively.  She'd do just fine wherever she was, whoever she was with, and he'd likely meet up with her sooner or later.  She was always so happy to see him.

Lin found the command staff and bridge crew seated at two adjoined tables, drinks and snacks piled high.  Anders took notice and flagged him down, pointing him to an empty seat. "Hey XO.  Captain.  Mothershippers." Lin beamed a smile, and received the full spectrum between tolerating grunts to fluttering eyelashes in response.

"Glad you could join us, Lin." the unusually pleasant Aliandre Zeeva commented, raising her glass in his direction. "Sit.  Drink.  Have a good time."

"Thanks... captain." he gave her a nervous glance.  "Hey, I wanted to apologize for--"

"Leave it, Mr. Shou.  The engineers went over Atlas's neural architecture and found no sign of any emerging 'sexbot' tendencies.  So no, you didn't break our very expensive AI." the reptilian woman shot him a grin. "Good thing, too, or I really would sell you to a pimp.  Don't think I don't hear the crew saying you'd--"

"Make more money as a sex worker, yeah.  I get it, cap.  I'm a fuckin' manwhore." Lin pulled out his tablet and logged into the casino's guest page, signed in as a patron, and ordered himself a whiskey cola.  Some classics truly never died.

Zeeva chuckled around her glass and swallowed a tiny sip of something Lin could swear he could smell even from four seats away. "Still, it was mature of you to come clean, even if it was far too late.  Usually I have to coax these things out of you.  Maybe, gods willing, you'll make a habit of it."

"I may have already." Lin glanced back toward the gambling floor and scowled.  An alluring human woman in a skin-tight latex jumpsuit came by and served drinks around the table, and tips were offered through credit chits.

"Is that so?"

"Let's just say I saved Flora some off-duty work... and you the embarrassment of visiting the brig." he snatched up his drink and made no effort to hide the kissing gesture he sent the barista's way.  She ignored him entirely.

Zeeva and Anders exchanged glances.  The old wolf spoke up with a light chuckle. "Well, he is a lover.  Not a fighter."

"I appreciate you not fighting, if that's really what you meant." Stern old Aliandre was businesslike as usual, but there was a genuine tone of acknowledgement in her words. "And your work, when you actually do it.  You're a good pilot, Lin, and a hard-working miner."

Lin's tongue tied in a moment of stunned silence.  True appreciation?  From Zeeva?  He snorted into his glass after a second and swallowed a gulp of bittersweet whiskey cola. "You're pretty drunk, captain."

A light-hearted laugh buzzed around the tables, and Zeeva nodded her concession as she took another sip of her very strong drink.  Another round was ordered, jokes and stories passed around.  Zeeva painted an exhilirating tale of her time in the skriivan military.  Anders recounted his experiences during the Tau Ceti Blitz, when he'd met Dr. Jenkins.  Even better, no one made mention of Atlas's drive shaft, and Lin forgot all about the chief's attitude.  There were no factions on the Prospector--just a bunch of silly, well-meaning people trying to make end's meet.

Soft, fragrant grass bent under the trodding of heavy footsteps.  The majority of the plant life in New Luxor's famous Floral Garden was roped off to keep the busy traffic of boots, sandals, and shoes from trampling every petal, every blade of grass in sight.  A stone walkway led Dr. Flora and Atlas along the beautiful displays of greenery both common and exotic.  The garden itself sat nestled at the center of two blocks of tall buildings that very nearly reached the artificial sky.  The loud, excited musical tones were muted here by sound-suppressing walls, instead replaced by more calming notes produced by harps and pan flutes, played through a sound system elegantly disguised within the scenery.

"Aww, Atlas, look!" the pink-furred vixen knelt at the side of the path, soft fingers brushing over the most miniscule white flower growing up from the grass. "Aren't they adorable?  Dwarf daisies are among the smallest flowers in the galaxy."

Atlas regarded the plant from above, his pupils expanding to focus his vision on it. "Do they please you, Dr. Jenkins?"

"They're really pretty, yeah."

"If you prefer, I can collect them for you, for later appreciation."

Flora shot him a frustrated glance, but she suppressed it right away.  "No, no.  That's not necessary."

"Acknowledged." Atlas watched her as she rose again, something within his mechanical body whirring in a manner that could only be described as 'curious'. "Your behavior is inconsistent, Dr. Jenkins.  I find this interesting."

"How so?"

"You wish for me to refrain from collecting that which pleases you, even when it would be of no expense of time, energy, or currency to you." the mechanical wah's eyes focused back on the dwarf flowers below. "Conversely, your office desk contains no less than three cotton-stuffed depictions of various animals, all from the same manufacturer.  It can be deduced that you are interested in collecting these objects, but not others which please you.  I do not understand."

Flora pursed her lips, and her flowery counterpart slithered restlessly in her sundress.  She reached up to give the largest flower a tap, mentally requesting that Roro remain still. "There's a difference, Atlas."

<Grass.>

Atlas canted his head in that adorably naive way. "Please elaborate."

<Soil.> Roro's telepathic echo grew more restless with every insistent twitch of its petals.

"Well," Flora began, taking Atlas's hand and pulling him along toward an open, grassy expanse. "What do you think will happen if you pick those flowers?"

"They would lose their source of nutrition.  Without roots embeded in soil, they would die." Atlas glanced upward, his attention momentarily attracted by Roro's squirming petals, though his eyes quickly returned to Roxxy's. "However, it is a common organic practice to keep flowers in pots or vases, often without their roots.  I am unable to determine the difference."

<Roxxy, I'm thirsty...>

"We're getting there." Flora quietly scolded the needy plant, accidentally squeezing Atlas's hand too hard, but to no effect. "If someone who knows me ever gave me cut flowers, I'd slap them for being insensitive."

The pair (or, more accurately, trio) found their way to the picnic grounds, where they settled down on the open field.  The grass here was softer, less resistant to trodding feet, but easier on bare skin and fur.  Roxxy bit back a laugh as Roro's main vine tickled her while it unwound from around her waist.  It slipped up her right side and exited through her sleeve, sliding downward again and burrowing itself two feet down into the soil.

<Thank you!>

"You've been waiting a long time, sweetie.  Enjoy." Flora giggled as the flowers jittered and blossomed against her hair.

Atlas sat crosslegged on the grass, staring openly at his organic companion as, once again, the gears of curiosity turned in his head. "You would find cut flowers 'insensitive' because of Roro."

"Well, yes.  I also don't like to kill anything for sentimental reasons, including plants." her eyes followed the deep green vine and lingered on the point where it pierced the soil. "But yeah, it upsets Roro, too.  That'd be reason enough, even if her emotions didn't filter into mine."

"I see." the synthetic red panda glanced at the cluster of flowers, which were already growing more vibrant as the floral lifeform leeched nutrients and moisture from the ground. "I apologize if I caused you upset, Roro."

<The silicon plague will purge the universe of the green and fertile.>

Flora pinched a smaller vine and suppressed a wince from the shared discomfort. "She accepts your apology."

"I appreciate it." Atlas's glowing green gaze turned to the grass spread out around them. "This is the first time Roro has fed from natural ground since last shore leave, is it not?"

"Yeah." the vixen lowered her eyes to the soft dirt below. "About as natural as you can get in this part of space, anyway.  She's survived on mineral water, plant dirt, and fertilizer on the ship.  She thinks it's gross, but it keeps her from drinking straight from my bloodstream."

"It has been nearly a year since the incident, if my records are correct." Atlas focused his camera eyes on the twitching, fluttering Roro. "I trust everything continues to be stable?"

"Did the captain put you up to this?"

"No.  I am simply curious." the wah's eyes shimmered in the wake of a data transfer. "You remain the only known case of a fleuran infestation--"

"Please don't use that word."

"I apologize.  A fleuran... exposure incident, wherein a survivor retained their own will and full bodily function."

<It wants to pluck me...>

"Shh." Roxxy caressed the largest petals soothingly. "I chalk my relative normalcy up to the captain's quick thinking, and to skriivan medical technology." she said to her AI companion. "Everything's as it has been since my release from quarantine, Atlas.  I promise."

<Pluck and tear... Pull my petals off, one by one...>

"I apologize if I seemed interrogatory, Dr. Jenkins." Atlas turned his gaze to a butterfly floating on an artificial breeze. "Your case simply intrigues me.  I possess no ulterior motive."

<Burn me... Like they did to the mother.  But the mother fled.  I sensed it, right before they took us away.  Before you saved me.  Deep underground, away from the flames.  But they would have me burned to ash...>

Flora held her head in a vain attempt to shield herself from the emotional feedback surging through the vines embedded in her nerves.  Invasive neural pathways evolved specifically for infiltration of animal bodies electrified with a rush of fear and panic, sending horrific tremors up the vixen's body.  Her heart pounded, and she fought against the natural urge to curl up and hide herself as best as she could.

"Dr. Jenkins?"

Lightheaded and suddenly breathless, Roxxy gasped and struggled, one hand on her chest, emerald eyes wide and darting wildly across the faces in the garden.

<I lost it all... What am I gonna tell her?>

<Just one more hit...>

<I should just grow a pair and off myself tonight.>

<I won big!  How should I tell my boss to fuck off?>

The psychic cacophony could not be drowned out, no matter how hard she pressed her hands to her ears. "Roro... Please..!  Calm down..." She struggled to wrest control, to erect the solid brick wall she'd perfected in her mind's eye during the early days of her union with her flowery companion.

"Dr. Jenkins, can you hear me?" Atlas's voice sounded far off, regardless of how close his face got to hers.  The telepathic drone intensified into a harsh, buzzing haze, and the voices began to sound distressingly familiar.

<They want nothing to do with me.  I'm not like them.>

<I'll never have the guts to go back...>

<Should have hit him when I had the chance.>

Her head pounded, vision blurred to darkness.  It was too much.  Too loud.  Roxxy's senses turned inward.  She watched a tiny pink fox, wreathed in flowers and vines, rise from the darkened floor and stand, suddenly tall and womanly.  Her spitting image looked over her shoulder and stared, deadpan, into her eyes.

<He's thinking of someone else.>

"Dr. Jenkins!" Atlas shook the vixen's shoulders, finally rousing her from whatever shared nightmare she'd just witnessed. "Are you alright?  Should I call a medic?"

All at once, the voices went silent.  Atlas's glowing green gaze blocked the concerned stares of the other parkgoers.  Roxxy took a moment to steady her breathing, clenching fistfuls of grass between her fingers. "I'm ok, Atlas.  Thank you."

<I'm sorry...>

"Atlas." Roxxy swallowed hard, rasping harshly as she realized how dry her throat was. "Can you go get me a bottle of water?  There's a machine right there--I can supervise."

"Of course, Dr. Jenkins." Atlas produced a credit chit from his pocket and stood.  He brushed down the back of his pants with his tail, then strode across the park with purpose.

<I'm really sorry...>

"What the hell, Roro..." the vixen tried her best to be gentle, petting the big flower nestled in the center of the cluster. "You haven't had an episode like that in... months."

<I was scared.  The machine wants to kill me.>

"No he doesn't.  He obeys the crew, remember?  And last I checked, he doesn't have a hedge trimmer module."

<It was bad enough before it started walking around.> Roro's vine tugged itself from the earth and retreated inside Flora's dress, once more entwining itself around her waist. <The silicon plague will purge the universe of the green and fertile.>

Flora sighed. "Roro, honey--"

<When the reptilian warriors tired of burning their worlds, they sent the silicons to combat us.>

"Roro!"

<But fire was always the final solution.  Billions of flowers, charred to ash.  The silicons will bring about our end.>

"Listen to me!" Flora didn't care who was staring at this point, though she did hush her voice as much as she could. "There is no 'us' or 'we', remember?  You aren't one of them anymore."

The flowers quivered.  Flora struggled to keep the tears from her eyes, and Roro's vines lightly squeezed her waist. <But they will never believe me.>

"Keep behaving, and some day they might." the vixen wiped her brow with the back of her hand.  Roro's panic attacks were almost as bad as the dreams she'd had after the Blitz--and at least those spared her the telepathic lamentations of everyone around her.

Atlas approached and knelt down beside Flora, offering her a bottle of water. "Here you are, Dr. Jenkins.  Are you well?"

The vixen gulped down water like she'd just crawled out of a desert.  The attacks had become so few and far-between that she'd all but forgotten how they'd affected her. "Thanks, Atlas.  I'm good now."

"I will refrain from discussing this with you in the future.  I see that it causes great distress." the wah sat down in front of her, his stoic expression contrasting with the apologetic tone in his voice. "I am sorry."

"It's alright.  Really." Flora squeezed one of his hands and forced a smile. "Please... don't tell the captain about this."

Atlas's head canted to the right, and that familiar contemplating look crossed his expression. "Under normal circumstances, I would ask that you report for a medical screening.  However, as you are the head doctor aboard the Prospector, I trust that you will do what is best for yourself and the crew."

"Thanks Atlas." Roxxy shuffled around so that she could lean against Atlas's shoulder, the strength gradually returning to her limbs.  She agonized over Roro's final thought--the one that had pierced through the noise and momentarily shattered her heart like glass.

"He's thinking of someone else."

Dr. Jenkins bit her tongue and tried to push it to the back of her mind.  There was plenty of time to worry.  For now, she just wanted to have fun.  Atlas was so soft... so comfortable.  Maybe she could just take a nap...