Xora 2 - "Dangerous Game"

by Brandy Dewinter

Chapter 1 - "Rough Duty"

     "Damnit, Ti, you're gonna make me late!" I snapped at the image in 
the mirror. 

     "Hold still," the voice in my head said.  

     No, I wasn't crazy, though I did hear a voice in my head.  Well, no 
crazier than might be expected since I'd been possessed by an alien.  Um, 
maybe I better start over, that sounded even worse.  

     I am Lieutenant Commander Xora.  Or was.  Maybe the right description 
is that I am indeed Commander Xora, but the Commander Xora that exists 
now was not the one who had existed a few weeks ago.  Did that make any 
sense?  Probably not.  It had only been that few weeks since I had been 
joined with my symbiont, Titania, and we were still working out the 
details of our relationship.  Translation:  Titania was still trying to 
run every detail of my life, and I was trying to, um, what?  Retain some 
sense of my previous life?  I had been a sedentary computer technician 
when the call had come for me to be, well, possessed by one of the 
mysterious symbionts.  Since our joining, I had been assigned as a 
Federation field agent.  That part was all improvement, even though my 
first mission had been, um, unpleasant at times.  

     The part of this symbiosis that was not an improvement, though, was 
that Titania had decided I should have the appearance of a beautiful 
woman.  What's wrong with that?  Well, for starters, I had been born a 
man.  It was still a surprise every time I looked in the mirror and saw 
something out of my fantasies match each move I made.  Several fantasies, 
in fact.  It seemed that Titania's powers included deliberate and 
extensive control of my body chemistry, as well as a sort of body-suit 
effect where she could squeeze or expand parts of my body at will.  Her
will, of course.  

     She also had the ability to control her own coloration, which was why 
we were going to be late to our appointment with our boss, Admiral Jones.  
In the last few moments my apparent clothing had changed from red to black 
to blue to green in rapid succession as Titania tried out different 
combinations.  

     "There," she said in my head, "that should do it."  She had stopped 
with green, shiny and literally skin tight since she actually *was* my 
skin and had just changed her own coloring.  

     "I still think the skirt should be longer," I grumbled.  "Or better 
yet, why not give my some pants?"

     Titania's voice took on the tones of a mother once more lecturing a 
slow child, "Now, Xora, you agreed that you needed to get used to wearing 
women's clothes, since it will be expected on a lot of the planets you 
might have to visit."

     "Women's clothes are not limited to skirts that barely cover my, um, 
. . . "  Then I tried to change the subject and said, "Did you say you 
were done playing with my outfit?"  

     "Yes, at least for now," Titania answered.  

     "Good, let's go," I said, trying to move toward the door.  I didn't 
get very far.

     "Damnit, Titania, you promised not to do that lockup thing on me 
again!"

     "Well, I said I wouldn't do it except in emergencies," she said.  
"And leaving with your hair looking like that would be a disaster."

     "What's wrong with my hair?" I asked, looking back into the mirror.  
It cascaded to my waist in tumbling waves, just like always.  Since hair 
is mostly protein, Titania had stored the excess material from my original 
body (so, all right, I had been fat) as a thick mass of gleaming dark 
hair.     

     "It doesn't go with the green, silly," Ti said.  Then she showed what 
she meant by shifting my hair color several notches toward red.  I had to 
admit, it went well with the green outfit which, as I looked a little more 
closely, set off my green eyes rather well.  Hmm, I wonder how many other 
women could change their outfits to match their eyes.  

     Oh, God, I did it again.  Thinking about "other women".  I was still 
a man, deep down where I lived.  I had to remind myself of that more and 
more often lately. 

     "Okay, now can we leave?" I asked.

     "Just another second," she promised.  "Step closer to the mirror."

     I did as she said, and looked at the tall, shapely woman I saw there.  
Very shapely, unfortunately for me.  The first really successful symbiont 
pairing had been between an established Federation field agent, Tryx, and 
her symbiont, Bee.  Tryx had been the one to arrange my own pairing based 
on my high psi rating, a characteristic she shared.  It turned out that 
Bee and my Titania were members of the symbiont royalty, which was part of 
the reason Tryx and I were so much more successful than most pairings.  

     However, Tryx also had some, um, unconventional tastes, including a 
desire for really tight corsets and absurdly high heels.  There was also a 
bit of competitiveness between Bee and Titania, so when Bee helped Tryx 
achieve an impossibly spectacular figure, Titania decided to do the same 
for me.  Did I mention that she tried to run every detail of my life?  
Anyway, the woman in the mirror had one of the most impressive figures I 
had ever seen (there was only one comparable in fact - Tryx), tiny little 
waist set off by, uh, well, let's just say that there was ample storage 
volume, um, volumes for any spare materials Titania needed to work her 
biochemical magic.  Like I said, a fantasy woman.  Never mind that I 
couldn't breathe in the corset and couldn't walk in the heels and couldn't 
see my feet anyway, because of the, uh, storage volumes.  Titania didn't 
mind, and that seemed to be all that mattered.  

     "What now?" I asked, when nothing seemed to be happening.  

     "Look at your face, dummy," Titania said.  

     I looked at the huge green eyes, well-defined cheekbones, and full 
lips of the woman in the mirror and tried to figure out what was wrong.  
Since Titania had to look through my eyes, I usually had at least some 
insight into what she wanted to do.  In a moment, I noticed.  She was 
tinting our eye shadow more toward the copper colors to continue the 
accent of our green eyes.  A subtle shift brought a bit more rose to our 
cheeks, and a bit less tan.  

     "There, that should just about work," Titania said smugly.  The tawny 
redhead in the mirror smiled in appreciation, then her long eyelashes 
drooped and her lips parted just a bit.  

     "Naughty, naughty," Titania laughed in my ear.  "You're still letting 
those embedded reflexes from the call girl disk slip out whenever you 
remember that you're pretty."  

     "Uh, yeah, I guess you're right," I admitted, but surely it was only 
because my mane had fallen forward that I tossed all that hair around as 
we finally made our way to the door.  I was moving easily in my own 
towering heels, thanks to a hypno disk I had absorbed with the requisite 
skills.  Unfortunately, I didn't know what other skills call girls had 
needed when I chose that training disk.  Some of the other, um, 
specialties had left me with a blatant sensuality that was *not* something 
I had wanted. 

     The trip to the Admiral's office was reasonably uneventful.  Two guys 
collided and dropped a stack of data disks.  One computer tech spilled 
coffee on himself.  Two young women interrupted their conversation to send
the most deliciously-jealous glares my way.  All in all, about typical 
when I walked the corridors.  At least Titania's continued experimentation 
with my appearance, along with her admittedly spectacular success to date, 
kept people from ignoring me like they had ignored the old Xora.  

     Admiral Jones' robosec told me to 
go right on into his office, but 
when I entered I found he was on the 
screen with other business.  I let my 
hips swivel around the corner of his 
desk and leaned back where I could 
see who was talking with the Admiral. 

     It was Commander Tryx.  The 
image behind her showed a beautiful 
beach with sugar-white sand and tall, 
cool palms.  The water was the 
richest emerald green I had ever seen 
and I found myself thinking how 
nice it would look as a backdrop 
for my red hair.  Damnit, gotta stop 
that!  Ti is the one who wants to 
look pretty, not me.  

     Admiral Jones hadn't even looked 
up when the door whooshed open to 
admit me, but when I got where I could 
look over his shoulder at the 
screen, Tryx's eyes widened at my new 
appearance.  She interrupted herself to ask, "Is that you, Xora?"  

     "Yep," I said.  Admiral Jones swiveled around to look at me, too.  
Funny thing about the Admiral, when he blushes, it shows as much on his 
bald head as on his cheeks.  

     *I told you this skirt was too short,* I snarled mentally at Titania 
when I saw where his glance had frozen.

     She just laughed and said, "Not a bit.  It seems about perfect for 
catching Jonesy's interest."

     *We're not after a man's interest,* I insisted.

     "Well," she said, "it worked pretty well on Tryx, too.  And one of 
these days we're going to have a man, if I have to hold your breath until 
you turn blue to make you."

     *You wouldn't dare!* I hissed at her.  

     Before she replied (and probably good for me that she didn't feel 
compelled to prove me wrong), Tryx fiddled with her scanner a bit, 
expanding the image to show more than just her face.  She was indeed on a 
beach.  Apparently, her idea of the proper uniform of the day had started 
out with a teeny little bikini.  Which had then shrunk.  

     Admiral Jones noticed the motion in the screen, and looked back at 
his other agent, then back at me, then just closed his eyes for a long 
moment.  "Two of them," he muttered.  "Whatever did I do to deserve two of 
them?"  

     He took a deep breath, then opened his eyes and concentrated on 
looking into the deep blue of Tryx's eyes.  "Tryx, despite this 
distraction, the basic point still remains.  You are spending entirely too 
many credits on this assignment.  And taking too long."

     *A distraction, am I?  I'll show him distraction,* I thought.  Some 
of Titania's sense of competition with Bee must have been leaking over 
into my own reactions.  

     Tryx responded to the admiral's comment with a laugh and toss of her 
own blonde mane, "Why Jonesy, you approved this cover story yourself.  The 
best way to find the jewel smugglers was to act like one of the idle rich.  
That's what I've been doing."

     Jonesy was not convinced, "Idle is right.  According to your reports, 
all you've done is lay around the beach during the day, and party every 
night.  And you've been spending a fortune on gowns.  Even that, uh, 
swimsuit cost an unbelievable amount of credits."

     "Gee, Jonesy," Tryx said coyly, while taking an impressively large 
breath, "they don't sell these based on the weight of material, you know."

     "Sort of an inverse relationship, it would seem," I murmured, just 
loud enough for them both to hear.  

     Tryx's clear soprano caroled out in a laugh and she said, "I'm glad 
you like it, Xora darling.  I must say, your new look is quite, um, cute."  

     Then she laughed even harder as I started to make a sharp reply.  She 
interrupted me and said, "Actually, Xora, it looks really good on you.  
I'm glad you and your symbiont are adapting so well to each other."  

     Jonesy sighed again as his meeting got even further out of control.  
He tried to get back on track by asking Tryx, "When do you think you'll be 
done?"

     Tryx looked serious for a moment and answered, "Truly, Admiral, I 
have been making progress.  I have spent a bit of time with three of the 
four candidates we identified as smuggler points of contact.  I have a 
meeting with the last one tonight.  I've dropped enough hints of interest 
in new and unusual jewelry, along with enough credits on new fashions that 
I'm sure I'll be approached soon."  

     "Very well," Jonesy concluded, "but I'm thinking seriously of having 
this mission deducted from you vacation allowance."  

     Tryx snickered, but didn't really argue.  Some assignments are 
definitely tougher than others.  

     "Enjoy your date," I called as she reached for the cutoff.  She 
blushed, but giggled and nodded to me.

     "When are you going to give *me* an assignment like that, Jonesy?" I 
asked, still leaning on his desk.  

     He seemed to have a bit of trouble getting his gaze up to meet my 
eyes.  When he did, he found a grin that came right out of the hypno disk.  
Serves him right, the horny old goat.  The blush on the top of his head 
flared with fresh heat as he tried to push his chair back enough to get a 
little more distance between us.  

     Titania whispered to me, "Like I said before, he'd be a good choice.  
Keep flirting and we'll find out what sex is like, yet."  

     *I was NOT flirting with him,* I insisted, but Titania's mental sniff 
indicated she was not convinced.    Well, maybe I wasn't either.  Flirting 
to get his attention back on me was only fair, after that bikini that Tryx 
was almost wearing.  I took an unnecessarily deep breath of my own and I 
swear that Jonesy's eyes crossed.  

     "Ahem," he said, trying to recover, "actually, this assignment *is* 
just a bit like Tryx's."

     "Oooh, tell me more," I purred.  

     "It, um, well, the, uh," he stammered to a stop, took a deep breath, 
and started over.  "It seems you have developed a bit of a reputation 
among certain circles, based on your performance on Machovia."

     I stood up and stepped back sharply.  "No way!  I am NOT going 
somewhere else to be somebody's bondage toy."  

     "No, nothing like that," he assured me.  "It's because of your 
athletic prowess, nothing more.  The planet Teton has a strong cultural 
interest in athletics.  They share that with Machovia, but not the 
chauvinistic attitude toward women.  Still, they have heard of your race 
with the Machovian, um, . . "

     He paused, looking for the word.  I supplied it to him with a sneer 
at the memory, "Ponygirl."  

     "Right, ponygirl champion.  The Tetons were impressed that a 
Federation field agent, with no prior training, could win a race like 
that.  They're having their annual sports contest next week and asked if 
you could come as a representative of the Federation Navy."

     "To compete?" I asked.

     "No, though I imagine there might be some exhibitions or something.  
Apparently demonstrating fitness is something of a planetary mania.  
Still, only members of their own society actually compete for prizes."  

     I relaxed a bit and said, "So, all you want me to do is go to this 
planet for some sort of diplomatic thing?  Maybe join in a few friendly 
games of some sort?  There better not be anything demeaning, like 
Machovia."

     He reassured me again, "No, not at all.  If anything, it would seem 
the Tetons place their women, at least the athletic ones, on a bit of 
a pedestal.  Apparently there will be some sort of reception in your 
honor hosted by a, uh, Kommissar Sstton, and I already made sure you can 
decline with no loss of face from any contests you don't think you'll 
enjoy."

     Titania whispered in my ear, "There's something else going on, here.  
At first I thought he was still aroused by your flirting.  But that's not 
it.  His respiration and heart rate spike when he's talking, not when he's 
looking at your assets.  I think he's lying to you.  Or at least, not 
telling you the whole truth."

     *Thanks, Ti,* I thought to her, then said out loud to Jonesy, "Tell me 
the rest of it."

     Jonesy jerked at my demand, glancing down to avoid my eyes.  This 
didn't really help since "down" had distractions of a different sort.  But 
I just waited, not letting myself become lost in considerations of the 
other, um, opportunities.

     "Very well," he said.  "I was going to tell you before you left, but 
I wanted you to approach this mission with a positive attitude."

     "It'd be a lot more positive if I were sure I was told everything I 
needed to know," I snapped.  

     "Yes, well," he said, then looked directly at me.  "Please believe me 
when I say that the secondary purpose is not meant to be risky in any way.  
It seems, though, that there have been a series of disappearances of 
Teton women.  It's an internal crime issue and as such the Federation 
cannot interfere.  However, I have secured an agreement from the 
investigator in charge, Inspector Darius, that you will get a chance to, 
uh, 'observe' the investigation while you are there.  If you can help them 
out, it will do a lot to improve our relations the next time we *do* have 
an official reason for intervening in their planetary business."  

     "So, in addition to parading around as the Federation's star athlete, 
I'm expected to solve some sort of serial murder?"  

     "No, you're *not* expected to solve it," Jonesy asserted.  "You're 
just expected to show interest, and support.  If you can help at all, that 
will be a benefit to them and to us."  

     Titania urged me to, "Ask him if there are any other Federation field 
agents available, since we haven't completed standard training yet."

     "Surely there are fully-trained agents available," I said.

     Now Jonesy looked uncharacteristically embarrassed.  As opposed to 
the usual embarrassment Tryx and I seemed to cause, that is.  He paused, 
then said, "None that have been invited to attend."

     "He's hiding something again," Titania said.  I nodded mentally.  It 
was pretty obvious.  Then I realized what it was all about.

     "It's specifically *because* I'm not trained that you want me to go," 
I said.  "If I embarrass myself by bumbling around uselessly, then you can 
excuse it because I'm not even trained, yet.  On the other hand, if I 
stumble into something, you can crow about how even partially-trained 
field agents are wonderfully competent.  That's it, isn't it?"

     He nodded.  Then he stood up, resumed his command demeanor and said, 
"But that doesn't mean the rest of the invitation is invalid.  You will 
get a chance to be praised, and attend a few nice parties.  I honestly 
think you deserve it after your last assignment.  Will you go?"

     He was a pretty big man, actually, and not fat despite what would 
seem to be a job as sedentary as my old assignment.  And that command 
presence was, well, impressive.  My body was impressed, at any event.

     *Damnit, Ti, not NOW!* I demanded, trying to ignore the hard points 
that had popped into sharp relief in my skin-tight pseudo-uniform.  And 
the other sensations that were flooding through me.  

     "Not me, girly," Titania claimed.  "You're doing all of that on your 
own."  

     Well, wherever they were coming from, the sensations that I was 
feeling were certainly distracting.  

     "Um, yeah, sure, I'll go," I stammered to Jonesy while I tried to get 
myself back under control.  Not that Ti was helping, of course, even if 
she wasn't actively making things worse.  

     I took a deep breath, which provoked a small grunt from Jonesy 
showing that he was not entirely unaffected by *my* presence either, and 
nodded more confidently.  "It should be fun."

     Perhaps the swivel in my hips when I walked around the desk was a bit 
exaggerated, but then I was wearing those silly heels so it *might* have 
been justified.  In any event, I swayed my way toward the door only to be 
held by Jonesy's voice.

     "Commander Xora," he said causing me to turn back to look at him.

     "Why, Admiral Jones, are we back to being formal again?" I asked, 
letting a pout form on my lips.  
  
     He just sighed again, though the blush was back on the top of his head.  
Then he said, "Symbiont agents are officially in the Research and Sciences 
branch.  Your uniform needs to be blue."

     "Blue?" I repeated stupidly.  

     "Of course.  I expect you to meet uniform regulations, at least when 
you are officially representing the Federation.  I'm not rigid on such 
things here in the base, of course, but this is an official invitation 
from this High Poobah Sstton."

     "Very well," I said, then thought to Titania, *Can you do this right
away?*

     "Sure," she said.  Looking down, I saw my uniform shimmer to a dark 
blue, though it remained just as painted-on tight.

     "Will that do?" I asked, slowly pirouetting so that Jonesy could 
see all aspects of my new uniform.

     He didn't quite drool.  Too bad.