Extreme
by: Credence Brown

 

Sam's guns suddenly went silent. He waited to die. He could hear his own breathing, which sounded hoarse sobbing. His face felt flushed, his lips throbbed. Nothing happened after a few more seconds. Slowly the young fighter pilot looked down on his scope. It was blank. Feeling nearly hysterical, he wondered if the Radar was working.

He could hear the cooling fans on the electronics whirring away. It was like waking from a bad dream. He felt as if he'd been in another nightmarish reality and only just returned.

He felt hot and wet from the mental exertion of the last half-minute. Now he felt as if his whole being were going down into a black hole.

The suction unit in his mouth noisily slurped away, cleaning up the last of the mess. His heart was still pounding urgently in is ears. He was completely unaware that it had stopped completely for over a minute after the battle. He'd lost the time and didn't know it.

The stench of his own vomit, rank with bile, wafted up to his nose. The unit fit neatly into his mouth where part of the suction unit extended down his throat to intercept the first part of the bile being expelled from his stomach. The unit had evolved through many versions, the designers learning something from each death until it had gotten to this one. It was daunting to wear at first and took a lot of getting used to because ones' gag reflex wanted to expel it as soon as the tube was inserted in the pilots' throat. The worst part was that when the ship was locked down for battle, the part in his mouth inflated.

This made it impossible to expel it also cut off his speech. There was no microphone in his helmet. Voice communication was impossible during a battle. While they were waiting to be hauled in, most were too incapacitated to speak anyhow. The little cabin did contain a microphone but was only accessible when the suit part unclamped. Usually the only ones to use it were the maintenance guys.

Sam could feel the hygiene unit cleansing between his thighs where he'd messed himself. He was so used to being incontinent in battle that he didn't even think about it. In engagement, the way they fought; one was fortunate to survive.

Sam often asked why they just didn't use robot fighters. The answer he got from the laison alien was that humans were more suitable to the purpose. He had no idea that the ultimate goal was to capture a Louse alive although the idea made sense to him. However the brass knew that if too many of the pilots tried to capture one alive, then the whole force was in danger of being overcome by the Lice. So, the Aliens reasoned that perhaps one, which was wounded or stunned, would be the last one of an attacking group. Thus there would be less risk to the whole group involved.

It was oblique reasoning, unfamiliar to humans but since these guys had traveled in space for who knows how long, the human brass yielded to their logic.

As he wound down, the sobbing and tears came. The oppression of the fast acting sedative gradually began to wane. The brass had found the stress of battle demanded drugs just to keep the pilots calm enough to fight. They'd also found that deaths from pure physiological failure were down since they started using them. The replenishment IV slowly began to catch up with his bodies' needs. His life would continue another day or hour, he did not know.

Sam's silver and white ship tumbled for a while, stars circling it on all sides, carrying its helpless occupant safely during his recuperation. There was no autopilot to stabilize the fighter. The brass wanted as little as possible to jam or break. He didn't care. He had to rest for a few moments.

Sam felt a nudge from behind. The re-supply carrier, USS Bennett, had captured him and was drawing him in.

The suddenness with which the pilots were called into battle rendered space suits useless. They'd have to stay in them all the time. So instead, the designers made the little fighters, really nothing more than mobile gun platforms, into a spacesuit of sorts. The pilots could fit themselves into them in just seconds.

Sam had just finished High School and was going to be a Literature major in college. This technical detail was beyond him. Had he a choice, he'd be writing poetry.

With the demand for pilots, it became necessary to use both genders to fill the ranks. Gradually the design of the ships was adapted to accommodate either sex with minimal fuss. It was a great capitulation for humans to accept that their daughters would die in battle also. Right now, many gender barriers were falling to the will to survive.

Physicians, aided by the aliens worked very hard to find a combination of drugs and food supplements which would best aid the battle for the survival of the human race. It was a closely guarded secret that the female members of the ranks would go through their terms of service of about two years largely unscathed allowing for the stress of battle it's self. However, the male pilots would suffer severe changes in their physiology, often not reversible. Even if they survived, those who suffered the worst physiological changes were simply listed as killed in action.

Back home, the gullible public actually thought that the men were given the most hazardous assignments and thus often did not return. The commander of the fighting forces made the decision to not notify Earth high command of the consequences, since the ultimate outcome would not change. Scientists were working feverishly to solve the problem. This was a situation that had to be fought out in space and in the clinics on shipboard. They had no time to wait for direction from Earth. In time they would, but these first few years of the war effort could not be abandoned for want of a safer method of keeping the pilots alive.

All this retrieval activity occurred without voice radio traffic. The pilots were too worn out to respond so they were gathered like fallen leaves. The fighting ships still showing vital signs would be first. Those too heavily damaged or who's pilot's had died because of the stresses of battle were much less urgent.

Absently he watched as another ship; Eleanor's was captured and drawn in beside his. She looked calm but weary. Once the weapons were depleted, the seat released them, allowing the occupant of the fighter a little free movement. Sam wanted to wipe his eyes; a scant bit of his pride remained. She turned to look his direction. The emptiness in her eyes told the story of the battle. She'd not cracked this time. She'd be out there with him and the others next battle. When a pilot lost it, they were often not seen again unless they recovered in a few days off. Sam wondered when he would crack. The horror of the battle still fresh in his mind, he felt a quiver run from the top of his head to his toes. Not many pilots went full term. Most either cracked or died he'd been told. It hadn't yet sunk in to him how exhausting this life was over the long term.

Sam realized the seat had unclamped from him. He usually had to fight against it until the release came. He wondered if he'd taken damage. He had no instrumentation to indicate that. His only function was to kill or be killed. He took a sudden gulp of cabin air. It was so good to have that "thing" out of his throat.

In the distance, he could see one of the other fighters with a gaping hole in the bottom. He wondered who it had been. A wave of sympathy flooded through him. A single heartfelt sob escaped his lips. They felt swollen. Perhaps it was just bruising from the air unit. He failed to notice a few hairs on the chest piece, which clamped him while in battle

He felt his ship shudder as it contacted the guide rail and entered the hangar. In moments he was stopped next to Eleanor. He seemed to get her more than half the time. He was lucky this time. Next time he might get Jerry who'd want to play cards or Glen who'd want to brag or Sheila who'd be aloof. She'd never gotten over bunking with someone else male or female.

It was simply too time consuming to get the pilots back to assigned "mates". One advantage was that if a pair just didn't get along, they probably wouldn't be together for long. Hopefully no one would get too attached to another person because the next day or hour one of the two could die.

Each pair of ships was berthed around a central break room along with five other pairs. Initially, they'd thought that the pilots could congregate there between missions but the rooms were seldom used except on stand down by any but the maintenance folks.

Eleanor got out before him but looked tired. They all were. Her haggard smile cheered him somewhat as she stood there waiting for him to untangle himself from the electronics.

This battle only lasted perhaps 15 seconds. The approach to contact could take 30 minutes or so. One time the approach was a scant minute or two. He'd barely had time to get his mind mentally set for battle although he did not know how long the drugs actually needed. Generally the recovery period was a few hours or sometimes days. One never knew how long the break would be until the lice tried again. If another contact were made before they were ready, the next carrier in back of them would take the call.

The telltale clunks and thunks from below his feet told Sam that the maintenance people were already at work below. His ship would be ready to fly, depending on the damage, usually in a few minutes.

When you encountered the enemy, you fired and twisted and fired and fought as intensely as you could because if you didn't you'd be dead in seconds. They'd rigged cannon, lasers, and missiles in every combination they could think of. The ships had very minimal propulsion. Not enough to return to the mother ship. It was for the carriers to retrieve them.

Sam gazed at Eleanor's emaciated body above the battle skirt she wore. She looked like an undeveloped eight-year-old. If they stood side by side, he'd look just the same. Even his male organs had retracted as if he'd been in very cold water. The Doctors had discovered that a dramatically underweight body withstood the rigors of battle better. Earthside side he weighted around 160lbs dressed down for football. Now he hoped he weighed 100.

Sam stood up and brushed out his skirt as he stepped out of the cockpit. The uniforms were all the same. A white Lycra bra top loaded with sensors, and a knee length full skirt. They wore no socks and very thin slippers. He'd put the slippers on as he got out of the craft. The boots he wore in flight were a part of the fighter. No one wore underwear. There was not time to disrobe to change into a suit when the enemy came and no one in their right mind would get into one of these ships and fight like the pilots did unable to link to the ships' machinery. They'd really tried to make the ship/man interface as seamless as possible.

In training, by the time they all got to the ships, each pilot was well aware that haste was of great importance, so any scruples at not wearing underwear or men wearing dresses had disappeared entirely. Some of the more macho, made nervous jokes about it but none refused.

Only the pilot berths were heated since they wore such brief clothing. The rest of the ship could go below freezing at times. The rest of the crew gained some comfort from the waste heat rejected from the machinery. This, in an effort to save fuel made the ride a sacrifice to all concerned.

It was difficult to imagine that a scant 7 years ago, Sam was playing on a swing in the back yard when the first attack had come. The lice had literally devoured a manned Mars's mission in minutes. Everyone was in shock since they'd been airing the mission live at all times on the Internet. Then the attack stopped suddenly, but not before everyone on the craft was dead. In the clear blue sky over earth, huge brown ships became visible in broad daylight. They were all different shapes and vaguely resembled balls of mud. The aliens inhabited small asteroids and flew them around the Galaxy until most of the mass was gone or they became structurally unstable.

It had been the Aliens who had repulsed the attack of the lice. It was a great deal of shock for the human race to absorb but in a few months; men and women of earth were training to fight off the Lice. Their Alien saviors were long thin bipeds who were hairless and wore almost no clothing. The name "Alien" seemed to stick no matter what the politicians said to call them.

The popular notion that man would take hundreds or thousands of years to develop into a space faring race had simply become a silly notion. In actuality it took a single day.

The Lice were generally several feet long and a few feet wide and had a set of jaws with which to crunch through the hulls of any ship. They looked very similar to Lice and thus the name stuck. They really seemed to love Aluminum but could settle for any metallic substance. That is one reason the Aliens chose Asteroids with an iron make up or even better, non metallic at all.

The Aliens and the human brass was trying to figure out how the Lice got around since their mass or lack of it, seemed to defy the laws of physics. They'd all hoped as they ran up the string of contacts that something would surface that everyone had been missing. There had to be a weak spot.

Sam, now just about 18 years old had watched it all take place. The beings seemed friendly enough buts insisted that if we did not provide humans to help with the fight, they'd simply depart and let the Lice finish us off. They'd not hurt the humans, they'd simply take all the metal out of the solar system, thus thrusting humanity back into the stone age.

The Aliens didn't need to say anything about the nearly pure Iron core the Earth had. The implications were obvious.

When an alert sounded, the pilots were no more than a few feet from their craft. The planes were distributed all over the ship like little blisters on its' outer hull. That way they could be activated in as few as 30 seconds. It took a toll on these pilots to go from sound sleep to piloting in under a minute but that was the only way to survive out here. The "Lice" as they were called dropped out of warp hopefully a few minutes from the ship and it took everything they could do to fight them off. Their method of propulsion was more advanced than even the aliens' had. Once in a while they'd come into view right on a task force. There'd be no choice but to expel as many of the fighters' rearward as possible and then detonate a huge explosive device, which wiped out the Lice and the task force. It was a horrible tactic to contemplate but necessary to prevent a more horrible death.

One of the objectives of these expeditions was to learn how the Lice traveled and where they came from.

There were 30 ships in the group. Each one of them had thousands of fighters on it. The ships rotated turns in the battle ready mode that way each group stayed in battle only a day or so and then stepped back for hopefully a week of rest.

Eleanor stepped over to Sam. "Tired?" She asked. She snuggled up close to him. He knew she wanted to do it before she slept. He hoped they'd get the chance to finish. He could feel himself stirring already. These days one did not pass up a chance at a little affection. He seemed to have increasing difficulty with sex. Sam had just written it off to being tired. Once or twice he'd felt as if he'd "shrunk" but had not had a chance to dwell on it. He was either fighting or sleeping these days.

The quarters were all the same. Two ships in a room, a bed in between. Some food in a refrigerator at one end and a shower bath at the other. The food was mushy something and the showers were hot but had no soap. He rarely used the toilet while up front. The end of the battle usually depleted his body. Most of the time he didn't even undress to shower. He usually tried to change about every other day. They showered, still dressed and let the drying unit dry them and their clothing. Sam had gotten into a fighter in wet clothing more than once.

Sam felt her push him onto the bed. He'd perform or she'd make him with drugs. Was it rape? She felt a need and in this environment, there was no time for negotiation. They were locked in an intimate embrace quickly. She expected him to reciprocate with his. She had come in seconds and was winding up for more. He was still winding up.

He always felt as if he were in a waking dream, never sobering up from all the drugs. Even on stand down he didn't start to feel right until just before they resumed duty.

Lights flashed, and alarms sounded. Eleanor was gone. He found himself falling into his ship before his mind had shifted gears. Each of his legs went down the control shafts. He quickly lifted his skirt to clear as his butt hit the split seat. A quick pop told him that his penis was in the tube and the suction had started at his ass. Little prickles in his thighs told him the drug dispenser was ready, the shunt was connected. He quickly snapped the plug coming from his bra into the medical telemetry cord. In a woman, the bra served two purposes, providing modesty and holding the sensors that detected heart waves and other things. In men, they were told it was simply for the instrumentation. Sam had no idea that they also served to prolong the time in which any possible breast growth would go undetected.

As soon as the computer sensed the action, the seat began to grow in around him, shielding him from the G forces he'd feel in a few seconds. The hated probe was at his lips. He always felt like a helpless captive as the probe snaked down his throat and inflated until the drugs began to take effect. When the battle ended, he'd not remember anything but a dull horror.

On his scope he could already see the approaching enemy from the mother ships' feed. He leaned forward and his arms were clamped solidly just as the back of the seat slammed into him. He shoved his face into the shield and the seat clamped to the back of his head. Now completely immobile, Sam thumbed the ready switch.

The sudden acceleration always made him dump his bowels. As he sighted the enemy, he vomited. There were simply too many of them. He fell into a quivering paralyzed gaze as they approached. The same thing always happened. Suddenly the drugs slammed into him, calming him for the battle. The LSD they used would normally cause hallucinations but in his hyper terrorized state it only made him more aware of his surroundings and calmed him enough to function like a machine. Oddly enough, LSD used in this way did not cause flashbacks.

They'd been pursing the enemy in the only way they could. Rush forward thousands of miles in the direction they'd come out of warp from. They'd hoped that eventually the fleet would run up on a bunch of them about to launch. Humans with no FTL were dependent upon heavy acceleration and long time periods. Fortunately they could grab some mass from a planet they'd passed or some plasma from a star to provide the power to support this lavish expenditure of energy.

About a week ago several ships from his group suddenly departed. The gossip was that headquarters was taking a few from each group for something special. He didn't know what.

The momentum from the launch had sent him thousands of miles in front of the mother ship. He could see the advancing front of Lice. Wait, steady, wait, fire, fire, and fire. He tumbled in a whirlpool of fright, rage, hysteria and laughter fighting feverishly to survive.

His heart rate rose to over 200. He stopped breathing. His eyes dilated. A normal person would be unconscious or paralyzed but not these pilots. In less than a minute, he'd lose 5 lbs. or so.

The echo of a huge clunk resonated in his mind as he returned to consciousness. It was like waking up after a disturbing nap.

His ammunition was gone in 14 seconds. Shorter than usual, he thought. There were three rounds in the forward cannon. That puzzled him, but with no targets in sight he didn't feel like wasting the ammo. Suddenly the seat unclamped. This time Sam didn't cry. He just felt icy calm. He sat looking around waiting for the pickup. Hundreds of fighters streaked past his ship. The battle must be continuing as it frequently did. Sometimes it was an hour or two and then it would stop just as suddenly as it came.

He felt disturbed and uneasy. The close proximity of a Louse had caused the program in his onboard computer to dose Sam with a different combination of mind-altering drugs this time. He was hyper aware and tensed for battle.

Sam could see flashes of fire in the distance as the battle continued to rage.

A slight movement off to his right caught his eye. A louse was calmly munching on another ship, trying to break into the cockpit Sam thought. He had never seen one live before. He kicked his maneuvering thrusters to turn his cannon toward the Louse. It hadn't seen him. If he weren't careful he'd hit the fighter. Somehow he had to knock it free with one shot and kill it with the other two.

The other ship was rolling a little. The terrified pilot was looking at Sam, knowing what he had to do. He was rolling the ship to present a better target. The first shot went off. OH GOD, he'd missed. The second glanced off; the third knocked the louse free but left it very much alive and dangerous. It spun out of control for just a moment and then began to move toward Sam's ship. Sam couldn't see what allowed it to move about.

Responding instinctively, Sam slammed the thrusters hard over hurling his ship into a sickening spin. Just as he was almost in the clutches of the Louse, his cannon spun around and hit it soundly in the body. It went motionless, stunned or dead, he could not tell. Still spinning, the computer kept selecting views of the situation until it found one of his ship and the Louse from the other ship. The other pilot moved in close as Sam stopped the wild spin.

Sam looked at his cabin pressure gauge. He was worried about a leak because of the impact of hitting the louse. It seemed to be holding.

They watched anxiously as the creature hung in front of them motionless. It became clear to Sam it was not dead. He could see what looked like the expanding and contracting of breathing. What was there out there to breathe? It didn't move however. It must be stunned.

Sam knew the others on the mother ship had watched this encounter and now knew as much as he did. His rescue would come as quickly as possible. Sam could not know it at the time but this one little action would be the beginning of the reversal for mankind. Command had been trying to capture a live louse and now a freak accident and providence had made it happen.

Sudden dimming in the light caused Sam to look for the cause. The mother ship was approaching at full thrust. As it came abeam of Sam it suddenly engaged reverse thrusters. Sam was amazed and thankful, they'd hurried. They had used up a whole day's fuel in a few minutes. A specially designed carrier was moved out and the Louse was thrust into it. When they were very sure the Louse was secure, Sam's ship was retrieved but not to the usual pod anchor but into a hangar.

As he climbed out of his ship, his arm brushed up against a little spine stuck in the side of the sheet metal gun cover. It produced a deep cut in his forearm. "Ouch, that hurt!" Sam cried out. One of the maintenance guys told him to get to the infirmary.

It took several butterfly bandages and some wound sealant to stop the bleeding. Later they found the quill was from the body of the Louse they'd captured. Sam developed a low fever from the cut. It became red and slightly swollen for a few days and then gradually got better. The Doctor was puzzled about it but they would not realize the significance of it for a few years and in a very startling way.

A frantic debriefing followed. In a room with a window on the Louse and its container, Sam could see them working to learn as much as they could as fast as possible. Through the bars, suddenly the Louse began to become indistinct until one of the scientists stunned it again with something Sam did not understand. Not being a technical person, Sam did not know that this one time when the louse had tried to use it's primary propulsion in the view of the scientist's instrumentation had provided the information to save humanity.

Defying the laws of known Physics, the Lice used a method of transport that relied upon brain waves and was generally effortless. Once understood, this one incident would open up space to almost completely uninhibited exploration by both the Aliens and humans. Sure they'd still have to understand temporal variation, cosmic storms and so much more but the huge amount of mass previously thought necessary would no longer be needed. The difficulty would be in moving things with them.

Sam had not understood all this. He was thinking of poetry. Then Sam was sent to the closest thing to a room he'd seen in months to get some rest. Eleanor was already there. She looked really frightened.

"Sam, what are you doing here?" She asked.

"I got lucky and stunned a Louse. They have it in a container studying it right now." He said. "They asked me all sorts of questions and then sent me down here to get some rest."

"They just pulled my ship into the hangar and then sent me up here." She said. "They didn't even say what the reason was."

Eleanor looked blue with cold and then he suddenly realized he was cold chilled from not having a coat.

Sam was really tired and stepped into the shower. Eleanor was suddenly beside him, washing his back. In a half-hour, both were sleeping soundly, naked for the first time in months. They had every blanket under the bed spread over them.

Sam wakened feeling as if he had a hang over and then remembered what he'd been doing for the last weeks. He got up to get some water, relieve himself and got back into bed. It was another several hours when Eleanor's thumping around in the bath wakened him again.

He lay there relaxing as he watched her move about in there. She had just showered but not dressed yet. In spite of her near anorexia, her form was unmistakably that of a woman. Her hair was about the same length as his. In this war there was no such thing as a feminine cut. Everyone had the same hair cut, just slightly longer than the ears as a concession to the ladies.

Sam had wasted away until he weighed close to what she did. Her breasts had all but disappeared from the near starvation diet. He found himself idly touching his own breasts. It was a pleasant sensation and they were a bit tender.

Again in need of relief, Sam got up and headed for the bathroom, intending to usher Eleanor out. As he stood besides her, waiting for her to acknowledge him, Sam was taken aback at the fact that they looked almost the same in the mirror. She hadn't entirely lost her breasts and he had grown ones that were for all practical purposes just like hers. He'd developed aureoles, which were nearly like hers. The impression lasted only a second but it got him thinking in a muddled state. He'd not thought about his decreased sex drive simply thinking that it was due to the fatigue and all the stress. As he looked down between his own legs Sam was shocked to see that his male organs were much smaller than he'd remembered. And where had the little tufts of hair gone. He quickly stood and looked into the mirror. The half dozen hairs on his chest were gone also.

Eleanor was over by the bed dressing in her now clean bra and skirt. Sam's was laid out on the bed. His head was in a whirl. Was Eleanor looking at him strangely? Nearly hysterical, Sam sat down on the bed.

Eleanor came round the bed and seated herself next to Sam. "What's the matter, Sam." She said. He could see the worry in her face or was it pity.

"My body, it's changing." He said. He sounded so bewildered, so shocked. "I have to see the Doctor." He said. She thought he could cry at any moment. Sam had arrived for his first tour of combat about 14 weeks ago. In another 2 weeks they'd move to the rear for yet another rest and some other ship would take their place.

Eleanor was out on her third tour. She'd seen so many pilots die she could no longer count them. She no longer became close to the others, but she did her best to meet her own needs and to help any one she could. Some of the other pilots had become aloof and withdrawn. Eleanor wasn't like that.

"Sam, I think that is the reason I'm here with you. Sure you're here to debrief on the louse but I'm here to help you cope with the changes in your body that you would not have noticed until we rotated out for a rest." She said.

Sam looked over at Eleanor with tears in his eyes. "This is going to be bad isn't it?" He said. His face was so screwed up that Eleanor began to laugh.
"This is no laughing matter and you know it." He said. As he finished, his voice cracked like an adolescent. "Oh no, my voice, it's changing too." He said. Sam was clearly losing his composure.

"Sam, they had no idea that this would happen when we left Earth. As a matter of fact it didn't until they began using that chemical which prevents your heart from starting again after a battle. Not many know it but the heart takes such a beating during battle that they started stopping it for a minute afterward to allow the toxins which cause you to die to oxidize in the blood stream. It takes only a minute but that simple procedure keeps you alive." She said. "It's sort of like letting the fizz go out of pop." She said. She was obviously trying to add some humor to the situation.

"Yea, and turned me into a woman. Thanks a lot." Sam said. "They've ruined my life, Eleanor. What am I going to do? What will my parents think? What will my friends think." Sam began to weep noisily.

"Sam don't go jumping to conclusions. In about 40% of the cases men revert back to their old gender. Some are sterile and some seem to be normal. We haven't seen what the children develop into yet." She said.

This emotional development went on for the rest of the afternoon and then having become fully cried out, Sam simply went to bed.

The next morning, the doorbell wakened Sam. Eleanor had gone out to the Cafeteria and gotten locked out. "Well, sleepy head, do you feel any better today?" She said cheerily.

"I guess so. A little better I guess." He said. He sounded weak and vulnerable. "Eleanor, will you stay with me and help me with all this?" He said.

"Sam, I'll stay as long as you want me and they let me." She said. That wasn't really much of a commitment but that is all she could offer.

Eleanor coaxed Sam to get up and to go to the cafeteria to eat with her. Then they made a visit to sick bay. The Doctor there while he seemed rushed, actually sat down with Sam while Eleanor waited outside and went over some of the options with him. In short, the number one priority was that they keep fighting the Lice.

The Doctor remarked that the captured louse had yielded some startling revelations and that the forces could make some really valuable changes to their equipment. He also thought that a FTL drive could come out of all this too. The scientists working on the Louse had discovered the FTL drive it had wasn't a drive at all. It was a matter of brain waves. It was all too simple. Could all this be true?

Sam agreed to return to his ship with Eleanor and finish out his cycle. The Doctor had promised to help him much more during the rest cycle.

11 weeks later, the Louse problem was greatly reduced and a much smaller force was having astounding results with weapons modified as a result of the capture of that one Louse.

As it turned out, it was an easy test but one which provided Sam with heartbreaking news. Sam would not revert to a male. But he would probably develop into a fully functioning female. So, in a sense he would be totally normal.

This news brought on a whole new round of crying. Eleanor had also survived the cycle and was sticking by Sam faithfully. Actually she'd gotten a broken arm in a collision with a piece of asteroid but it was mending nicely.

One of the things they did on the rest cycle was going on leave on one of the Alien ships or to any nearby class M planet. This time no planet was available so they did leave on one of the larger Alien planet ships which had been shadowing them. It was nearly the size of Earth's moon.

Sam was fast becoming a female and a beautiful one to boot. Eleanor had done a lot to teach her about her new role. The Alien planet ship carried many humans on it. It was well stocked with human amenities. Eleanor knew she would find enough clothing to get Samantha a start in her new role.

The original orders called for their group to stand down for 30 days. Sam, Eleanor and the rest of their group, 50 pilots in all had a chance to rest, sleeping all night, most nights. The brass still did not allow them to gain much weight since Headquarters did not know when they would be called back into action for sure, insinuating that their leave could be cut short at any time.

Still each gained enough weight to start mensing and develop breasts.

Eleanor had persuaded Sam to adopt a female name and they decided on Samantha. It would be so much simpler that way. Eleanor also helped Samantha with the purchase of clothing, makeup and hygiene items. About half way through the month, all the women were a bit cranky. It was easy to see who the "new" women were because they acted like they had invented cramps.

It was a surprise to Eleanor that they'd all been allowed to gain enough weight for them to start again. She didn't realize that their stand down could perhaps be much longer than originally thought. There had been developments in the war that could change a great deal.

Some of new women had completely failed to adapt and were having a miserable time of it. The Doctors seemed perplexed but still optimistic that each would have a good outcome. The first suicides cast a gloom throughout the ship. In Samantha's group there would be 4 in all. Yet, Samantha seemed to adjust to her new life as if it really hadn't been that big a deal. Medical scientists were finding out much more about gender science than they ever wanted to know.

Eleanor knew Samantha would do OK when one day they were eating lunch at one of the little restaurants off the dinning area of the Alien ship. A group of soldiers walked past. Samantha stopped in mid bite of her salad and said, "Isn't he a hunk?" It seemed to take a moment for it to register with the both of them when Eleanor began to giggle. "What are you laughing about?" Samantha said.

"Oh, nothing. I think you are going to do just fine." Eleanor said. In a minute Samantha began to flush. Then a single tear formed in one of her eyes.

"Well, I do have a life to live." Samantha said. She didn't sound angry or resentful. It was simply a statement.

It was a coming out party of sorts. The Aliens and the Brass wanted to thank the pilots for their sacrifice in a way that would underscore their unconditional acceptance. They knew that the recognition would help them to heal in a small way from the entire trauma. It would also possibly help the ones most affected adjust to their new roles. Samantha had no idea that one of the "new women" Pilots upon returning to earth had been murdered because some red neck thought of her as a faggot. There had been other less severe incidents so the leaders knew they must do something to put a stop to this activity.

In a most astounding turn of events, the President came on National, (now world TV) (pun intended), wearing the same outfit which Sam had worn in combat. He gave a moving speech and finished by saying all humans should accept the newly female pilots as one of their own.

Within days, huge numbers of men and women began sporting the same outfit as a gesture of support for those who'd made the ultimate sacrifice for mankind. Fortunately it was June and not too chilly for those who lived in the Northern Hemisphere. Those in the south wore capes or coats or what ever they had.

Samantha of course knew nothing of this chain of events. She knew only that she was going to appear for the first time in the general public wearing a dress. It was not to be simply a little skirt but a full, floor length skirt and strapless top with a little bolero jacket. It was to become the formal version of a Space Pilot's uniform definitely not intended for use while on duty. Samantha felt as if the attention showered on her took away from the recognition all the other pilots should get. Eleanor explained to her that after release from duty, many of the male and genetic female pilots could return to their normal lives while Samantha and those like her could not. Feeling very self-conscious, Samantha finally agreed to attend and behave herself. Other wise, Eleanor jokingly told her she could attend bound and gagged. Samantha sounded really insulted and huffed her way to the door like a four-year-old but she behaved.

Samantha had clung to Eleanor like a child the last weeks and sat next to her at the banquet. But after the dinner when the dancing started, Eleanor was quickly asked to dance. Samantha felt nervous and left out. She was starting to think she should not have come. She was just starting to stand up to leave when a voice said, "Would you like to dance?"

Samantha not expecting anyone to talk to her, jumped back startled but when she looked for the source of the question, she gasped with delight. It was that same young ensign who she'd admired in the mall when she was with Eleanor. She remembered Eleanor's instructions about holding the gown up with one hand. It was so long that she'd have tripped almost immediately. He put his hand out to lead her to the floor, something she was not accustomed to. Samantha had not expected the sensation when she placed her hand in his and she almost fainted when he gripped it gently. She felt herself blushing fiercely as he led her out there. Her lips were throbbing and looking down her breasts were making themselves known in a very assertive way. She acquiesced meekly when he began to draw her body in close to his. It was one way to hide her throbbing nipples. Samantha wished she had worn something thicker to hide her embarrassing predicament.

Looking into her face, he told her that she looked really nice tonight. Surprised, Samantha looked into his deep blue eyes. When he talked to her, she felt unable to look away. He talked to her for what seemed like hours while they danced. Once in a while they would stop.

Nervous, Samantha greedily accepted any wine offered to her.

He took her out onto the viewing deck set in the side of the ship. Samantha's heart was pounding. Her whole body was betraying her. She knew she mustn't but helplessly knew if he kissed her she could not stop him. Besides she felt attracted to him like no other time in her life. Distracted for a moment, she thought of the battle and the many times she'd not known if she would survive. The remembrance of it made her shiver for a moment. It felt so strange she thought, when Sam was still in High School, he felt strongly attracted to girls and would go as far with one as she would allow. Now she was the pursued. As Sam he had the power of attack but as Samantha she had the power of resistance if she was able to resist. This was a strange yet delicious feeling.

 

She felt him drawing her close to him, turning her like a little doll. She could not breathe and felt her body crying out for him to take her and possess her. What was going on? She had never experienced anything like this before. It was overwhelming her.

As he bent to face her, he began to pull her face toward him. Samantha tried to speak but her voice would not work. A little squeak was all that came out. She felt his lips touch hers and suddenly she gave in. What an experience, Samantha was not sure she could live.

When he finished, she was hanging from his arm. What! He'd stopped! Hardly she thought. She found herself attacking him like a lioness. She shamelessly threw her arms around his neck and pulled herself up until her feet were a foot off the floor. By this time he'd gotten back into the act and was smashing her breasts against his chest.

It was a much-disheveled couple, which walked back onto the dance floor a few minutes later. Some of the couples were giggling quietly when they saw them. They were one of the last few couples to leave the hall that night.

When Samantha wakened in the morning, she could not remember a thing. She'd had so much Champaign that she'd blacked out. She was completely naked though. Her clothes were all over the apartment. Well, she though, at least I'm in the right room.

She looked around for him but she was alone. Sadly she reflected as she tried to sit up. Her head was throbbing.

A knock at the door and then it opened suddenly. Eleanor's beaming face popped through the crack. "Hi there, sleepy head." She said. Her voice sounded truly happy for the first time since she'd met Samantha. "You were really a hand full to put to bed last night. I finally had to send John home. He was a bit crocked too." She said. She sounded really amused.

"You mean John didn't sleep here last night?" She said. Samantha sounded shocked. "I don't know if I should be happy he spared my virginity of sad that he didn't find me appealing." She finished.

"No, dear, he found you very appealing. He is absolutely smitten with you. And now that we all have a future, we will all see where this leads." Eleanor said. Her voice sounded cheery and mysterious.

"What do you mean, have a future." Samantha demanded.

"Samantha, you haven't heard? We are headed for home. It will still take almost a year but we are going. It seems that group which was pulled out a few weeks ago, used the new FTL gadget the scientists built to run a group right up the Lice's tail pipe. The only trouble is when they got there, all they found was this giant stockpile of all kinds of metals. It seems that the original race died out from some mysterious plague. All that was left was their crop of automatic biological robots that'd been wrecking the Galaxy for almost 3000 years. They were supposed to go out, get metal and return it to home. That is exactly what they kept on doing after their builders were dead." She finished.

"You mean John really likes me?" Samantha said. She sounded worried.

Eleanor looked at Samantha for a moment. "I guess you are a woman now." She said. "He's absolutely bonkers over you silly goose!" She said. Her voice dripping with sarcasm and mirth.

Samantha hadn't realized that the really nice boys who really like you don't screw you the first time they meet you. Here she was an adult young lady with no experience at all about how to be one.

Later that year after the fleet had returned to Earth, she became Mrs. Samantha Greene. Eleanor was maid of honor. To honor them all the rest of the brides' maids were new women.

Remember that nasty cut Sam got off the spine from the Louse? When Samantha's first little girl became about 3, she suddenly began moving herself from one place to another. Later Samantha learned to follow her. In time the doctors would learn how to give every human the virus from the Lice which made that possible. Until then, humans had relied of crude little bio electronic devices.

The Transgendered used to go through great torment and often spent their life savings trying to get their bodies to match what their brains told them. Now all that was usually all resolved in early childhood through the use of some simple drugs developed in the first space war.

Also gone was the stigma of one set of clothing for men and another for women. In this post war society, one could wear what ever they chose.

 

 

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