The AS-3J Felicia -class bioroid creatively named “Felicity” leapt out of her VTOL to the cargo zep floating half a mile above the Marineris sea. Her vat-grown glands started pumping adrenaline into her veins as she spread her wingsuit and dove straight for the airlock on the side. Her shoulder-mounted minimissile pod made short work of the outer door with a precisely-placed quartet of penetrators, followed by a HEMP micromissile from her armgun in the center to punch the plate through. As the smoke cleared she flung herself through the narrow hole, arm outstretched to grapple on to the inner door, when it cracked open. Time slowed as the bioroid targeted another missile to slip through the crack at the first glimpse of matte black on the other side. An inch-wide rocket slipped effortlessly past the barrel starting to poke through and detonated on the far side, buckling the thin metal of the door outwards.
Felicity curled up in midair as she entered the small room, stopping herself against the inner door and springing to her feet, still riding the enhanced adrenaline. She furiously yanked the inner door open and leapt into the carnage within. The first thing she saw was the twitching remains of a massively muscled man, damaged PDW in one hand. The Felicia -model impassionately took in the bloody crater of shattered ribs and viscera that had become his chest, he wouldn’t live much longer without quick nanostasis and probably a brainpeel. Just in case though, she took his gun and sprang around the interior of the cargo bay.
She ran furiously through the ship, searching for any remaining crew before her rush wore off and she crashed. Her preban glands gave her an advantage over most bioroids and modded humans, but the side effects were distinctly unpleasant. In the cargo bay she leapt over ten-foot tall pods with ease, releasing sensor microbots as she went. Odds were the zep was automated, piloted by an NAI or LAI, but she wasn’t taking chances on any more guards, these were the Triads after all.
The sensor sweeps returned negative, thing didn’t even have a cockpit, it was automated after all. Felicity sought out an input jack to the computer system and pulled out a data stick, seconds later her systems highlighted an access panel on the ceiling of the thirty-foot tall bay. Wary of her adrenaline levels starting to fall, the bioroid leapt on top of a large cargo pod under the panel. She then positioned herself carefully, crouched, and sprang, the Martian gravity letting her jump high enough to mag-lock to the ceiling. A minute’s work and the data drive was secure in the jack, uploading its’ sapient virus into the airship mainframe.
Felicity felt her energy failing as the drive did it’s work, she was starting to become lethargic, hungry, the spike had worn off. She uncoupled from the ceiling and let herself fall to the pod below, her armored feet denting the roof. As she slumped over towards the side she started to suspect that it’d all been a waste of effort, just one guard on a Martian Triad smuggler? It didn’t seem worth it. A dark thought struck her, could that guard have been innocent, not a career criminal, or worse, an indentured bioroid like she had been?
She dispatched a unit of sensor bots to fly over to the guard’s body, sliding down the front of the cargo pod as she sent the command. On landing she heard the door to the pod creak a minute amount and found herself looking in, even crashing she was still a cat. Inside the pod was full of various boxes and crates, ranging between the size of a breadbox and a refrigerator, she scanned the labels but everything looked perfectly legitimate, she’d have to open them to tell if they were contraband. Felicity was just about to tear open the nearest box when she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye, fur.
The bioroid peered around the wall of stacked boxes to find a naked red-furred humanoid strapped onto a board, breathing mask over her face, sound asleep. At first, Felicity thought she might be another Felicia -model like herself, but after a few moments of inspection it was clear that her muzzle was too long and narrow under the mask to be a feline model, and the tail sticking out from the side of the board was bushier than any she’d seen.
Felicity ran the image through her implant’s catalog of bioroid models, in seconds she had a match. Huli -series, a pleasure model based on vulpine genetics, made by the Triads for customers who liked their sex slaves furry. The combat bioroid growled, pleasure bioroids were illegal in every civilized nation, this had to be a Triad zep. Yet, her rage was also tempered by a bit of relief that her efforts had not been in vain, and a sense of pity that such an attractive girl was destined for some rich creep.
She paused, one of the many after-effects of the glands was a desire for contact with another sophont, which the sultan who commissioned the first Felicia s had conditioned into a heightened sex drive, and which had stuck after the genome was licensed. Felicity realized her hand was inching very close to the sleeping Huli’ s perked breast and quickly shifted to the side of her muzzle. A light pinch on the fluffy cheek prompted a stirring from the red bioroid but she didn’t wake. Not nanostasis then, some kind of circadian regulation mod?
“Hey,” Felicity said. “Can you wake up?” The vulpine’s eyes started to creep open, revealing familiar-looking slitted pupils. “Do you speak English?”
The Huli drew in a deep breath, the breathing mask stopping her from making a full yawn. “Yes,” she said. “I have been trained in both American-dialect English and Mandarin. Are you one of my master’s servants?”
Felicity bristled slightly at that suggestion, but she knew that the conditioning they subjected these sex slaves to was hard to overcome without a lot of help. “No, I… I…” Something was making her antsy just being near her, something in her body language, her almost catlike ears and body making it clear she was eager to please. “I’m getting you out of here.” She started frantically tearing off the straps holding the vixen in place.
The Huli model looked confused. “Did something happen? Did my master decide not to buy me?” As her upper torso was freed she leaned up to get a better look at the Felicia ’s body. “Do you require relief?”
Felicity looked down at herself and realized her nipples were showing through her nanoweave suit, self-consciously she put an arm over her chest. “Yes, I mean, no,” she stammered. “It’s not that important now.”
“Would you be better able to focus if I pleasured you quickly?” The fox reached one newly freed hand straight for Felicity’s breast, who was too shocked by her forwardness to stop her.
Upon feeling her slender furred fingers through the nanoweave Felicity felt a wave of relief and pleasure slide over her. The damnably insightful sex-roid was right, she did need this. The feline snapped off the last of the fox’s straps and started reaching for the smart clasps on her own bodysuit. “Do you, have a, name yet?”
“Tamano,” the Huli -model replied. “Though one of the American technicians called me Tammy.” She sat up on the board she’d been bound to and started to help Felicity undress.
With Tammy opening the bodysuit Felicity focused on removing her helmet. As the heavy polymer shell cracked open she inhaled the dusty Martian air, taking in the musty scent of her new friend and partner. Her nipples perked up even further from the cold and the airbourne hormones given off by the eager pleasure ‘roid. Felicity’s ears, freed of the sound-muffling properties of the helmet, picked up the hiss of Tammy’s air hose as she started to remove her mask.
The feline held a hand up to the fox’s muzzle, “this is Mars air. I’ve got Andraste lungs so I can breathe, do you?”
“I do not think so.” Tammy thought. “But with my breathing mask on I can’t pleasure you orally.”
“You can’t pleasure me at all if you’re dead.” Felicity replied. She forcibly strapped the mask back on to the Huli model. “Use your fingers.”
Slightly disappointed, Tammy returned her attention to Felicity’s bodysuit, peeling it back to expose the feline’s leopard-patterned fur and creamy breasts. She squeezed and rubbed at one furry nipple while zipping further down her front. As the Huli’ s hands neared her crotch the Felicia realized that she was already starting to grow wet.
No longer able to wait Felicity pulled her nanoweave suit down over her tight rear and started to pull her tail out of its sheath. Sometimes she’d been tempted to cut the thing off, but she was concerned about her balance without it. She guided the pleasure bioroid’s free hand in between her legs while leaning forward to clamp her mouth over one of the breasts that had drawn her attention.
Clearly the Triads had trained the Huli -model well, she found the Felicia ’s clitoris almost immediately and squeezed the little bulb with just the right amount of pressure to pleasure her without hurting. Felicity held her jaw slack to keep from biting Tammy with her sharpened fangs, but squeezed the fur-ringed nipple between her lips and tongue. She wouldn’t have heard her moans through the mask without her feline hearing.
Furry fingers probed into a convulsing slit, prompting more pleasurable contractions. A lapping sandpaper tongue rubbed a perked nipple raw. Bioengineered pheromones saturated the cold Martian air in the Triad zep’s cargo bay. Female ejaculate from two different genotypes dribbled their unique scents onto the pod’s floor.
Felicity let go of Tammy’s breast, shifting her upper and lower body to bring her dripping groin closer to her lover’s. Their slits met, mixing fluids and pheromones together as they stimulated one another into climax after wet climax.
Finally, the two bioroids slumped back, exhausted. The Huli was worse off, she’d tried to keep pace with a military model who could breathe without a mask. Not that sucking in the thin Martian atmosphere while fighting adrenal fatigue was easy. Neither of them was going to move anytime soon.
Eventually Felicity’s implant chimed with a message from Libro, the SAI she’d loaded into the zep. “Having fun?” The overgrown virus inquired.
The bioroid looked down at her partner, their legs and tails entwined in a wet mess of yellow and red fur. “Found a pleasure bioroid in one of the containers. She offered to help me with my hormonal problems. Who was I to say no?”
“That explains what I heard. Shall I divert course to the rendezvous point, or do you and your new friend want to take the Hopper and let it go?”
Felicity raised one trembling, fur-covered arm and ran it down Tammy’s matted leg, claws catching in small tangles and straightening them out. “There might be more, recruits in the other containers. I’m afraid I’m in no condition to inspect them now.”
“By ‘recruits’ I assume you mean Triad flesh-pods who’ll need to be thoroughly deprogrammed before we can trust them to carry out missions. The meme-splicers are going to love you.”
The escaped combat bioroid looked down at her new lover, a sapient being purpose-built to satisfy some wealthy bastard’s sick fetish, as she had been made to kill. She thought of the other bioroid she’d reflexively killed on entering the zep, and all the others she’d ended in the past. It was not just, how the powers that be had banned the creation of bioroids for pleasure while still growing living killing machines en masse. No sophont deserved to be used like a simple tool. They had to at least attempt to teach Tamano and her siblings that much. “We’re going Libro. Get those propellers moving.”
“For Free Mars.” The SAI replied.