She slithered through the ventilation system with her disruption field dialled back to bare minimum. Just enough that the ships sensors couldn’t see her but not enough to disrupt comms and give them a moving blind spot to triangulate. Her slick glossy skin combined with the flexibility of a contortionist allowed her to slide through the ducts with ease and shortly she was gracefully lowering herself from a vent to the decking of the cargo bay.
Empty of people but crammed full of spare parts, replicator stock and various & sundry supplies. Right now the next best place to heaven.
Trying to use the replicator on the wall or breach the vats of replicator feed stock would definitely be far too noticeable, the containers of emergency rations on the other hand were fair game.
Allegedly so unpalatable that crew members would rather chew on their own limbs than eat them, the emergency rations nevertheless were packed full of nutrients - minerals, vitamins, carbohydrates, fats and protein.
One after another she devoured four of the bars, pressing them to her featureless lower face, the unappetising grey bars disappearing from view, being macerated, then sliding down her throat without getting anywhere near her tastebuds. Starvation staved off but by no means replete she rested, letting the influx of sustenance suffuse through her.
Until now she had been operating mostly on instinct. The instinct to survive. The instinct to procreate.
Now time to reflect. Time to think.
Way back the last of her kind had risked one last meeting up, mating with wild abandon until all had been fertilised, a reckless chance but one that was necessary. At their final parting every one of them had carried within them the hope of their race, each symbiote hooked up to artificial life support systems, driving their battered ships far beyond anything they had been designed for, plunging deep into the uncharted portions of the galaxy to find a new home.
One by one they had been hunted down and destroyed, she had been the last, pursued and hounded, in her desperation diving her failing ship into a previously uncharted wormhole.
All but crippled, tumbling, her ship had entered an entirely uncharted system, flashes of hyperlight from behind her told the tale of her pursuers trying to follow and failing rather painfully.
Coaxing what power she could from damaged systems she’d slingshotted around the sun, entering warp partway round in a maneuver known to her race as “Don’t do this unless you’re really fucking desperate”
Against all expectations it had worked. Done wrong it would have ripped her vessel to shreds or sent her back through time, done right and it boosted her speed to ten times the ships theoretical maximum, leaping even further than the wormhole had brought her. But her ship was all but dead, just enough maneuvering ability to aim at the fourth planet of the nearest star system and hope.
It was enough, the ship hit the planet with a horrific impact, yet deep inside, wrapped in layer upon layer of protection she had survived. Battered and exhausted beyond measure she slipped into a deep sleep, hibernating until it was safe.
Millennia of waiting …. and then Ensign Kristen Wildheart stepped on her.
Now she was the next best thing to safe - snug and warm in a new host, on board a serviceable FTL capable ship crewed with at least one species that were genetically compatible as hosts. It also appeared that they were remarkably mentally compatible too. She had ensured the survival of her race, taking hosts for all the offspring she had carried within her, deliberately choosing females of the species on the ship as they were the egg carriers, once fused with their hosts all of her daughters would be capable of having daughters of their own. The males, for the time being, were useful as genetic donors for creating new hosts and new symbiotes. Obviously they would have to be incarcerated, stripped naked and wrapped in tight silky cocoons for their own protection in case they hurt themselves. Nice and safe and writhing helplessly …. a sensual shudder rippled through at the thought. She gave a wry mental grin, definitely Kristen’s influence at work there. There would be time enough to experiment with fusing with a male host once she had control of the ship, with thousands of years experience manipulating genetic code it wouldn’t be too difficult.
So - safe, future of race ensured, no longer absolutely starved …. time for the final part of the fusion of host and symbiote.
At first it had kept Kristen suppressed, using sex as a weapon, driving the helpless woman far beyond her limits, exhausting her with ecstasy until she lay limp and unresisting in a contented warm afterglow.
It had kept her like that, in a blissful half dreaming state, as their bodies fused all the way down to the cellular level, as it assimilated her memories, and continued to do so as it took hosts for it’s offspring, her only awareness of these activities as bursts of further pleasure. It had shared it’s own memories with her half dreaming mind even as it integrated her memories and mannerisms, becoming more and more an amalgam of the two of them, adopting the gender of its host. Kristen existed as a tight knot of awareness within her mind, experiencing nothing but pleasure until now.
With fusion almost complete she brought the drowsing woman to full consciousness, letting her experience everything through her symbiotes senses.
There was some trepidation but no fear, through their shared memories she knew everything about the entity that had taken control of her body and mind.
Hunger was the most overwhelming concern, the symbiote letting Kristen guide her through the contents of the food container, selecting the least unpalatable of the food bars. Which is how she discovered the Captain’s private stash of Belgian chocolate cunningly disguised as emergency rations that no one would eat even if held at gunpoint.
No restraint was shown this time and she gorged, sharing the taste of the chocolate with Kristen, sparing her the taste of the other bars, foul indeed but still necessary for their nutritional content.
Finally she could eat no more, all the food converted to energy and stored in a manner far more efficient than human fat cells. A quiver of excitement ran through her as she approached the end of her singleton existence. She opened her mind wide to the awareness of Kristen, warm and inviting.
*Join with me*
There was no hesitation, Kristen metaphorically leapt into her mental embrace, two personalities merging, fusing. One body, one mind. Orgasmic waves of pleasure surged through her as fusion completed.
Kristen’s idealised mental self image was the template for the physical change that accompanied this, the body of a championship gymnast, sleek, toned, athletic, yet with curves that would make any woman green with envy, hourglass waist with large full breasts and butt.
She writhed sinuously, memories of wearing tight rubber flitting through her mind, the glossy featureless skin tightened relentlessly all around her in response to her desires, long sharp claws growing from her fingers and toes. She grinned around the huge gag filling her mouth, clenching muscles around the thick intruders plugging her nether regions *mmm those are staying right there* More tentacles extruded from her head and back, can never have enough tentacles.
Kristalannatrey'dasennellheart stretched sensually, relishing the sensations as her powerful body flexed.
Refreshed, recharged, reborn.
Time to go explore the crew. First must find a suitable genetic donor from among the males to ‘assist’ in creating more daughters.
Kristalanna growled hungrily as she left the cargo bay to begin hunting.
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