Partners, a Tiger Team Story
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2017 by Uncle Jim

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Arriving at the Addison III space station expecting to find a minor rebellion to quell, Tiger Team is surprised when their shuttle is shot down on the way to the planet. They soon learn that things are much more complicated and far reaching than they had been led to believe. Far reaching enough to cause an Interstellar incident.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Magic   Heterosexual   Military   Zoophilia   Science Fiction   Extra Sensory Perception   Anal Sex   Oral Sex   Violence  

The following characters appear in the first chapters:

Cleveland Jensen

Master Sergeant, Team Leader, 6’-5’’ tall, 240 pounds, 35 years old, blue eyes, sandy blond hair and a number of enhancements

Joel Luther

Sergeant First Class, second in command, 6’-0’’ tall, 195 pounds, 32 years of age, black hair and brown eyes, also a number of enhancements

Lucy Miranda

Sergeant First Class, handles the Magic, 5’-6’’ tall, 140 pounds, 36D-24-36, 30 years old, long black hair, gray eyes, Asian descent and also a number of enhancements

Bob

Male Siberian Tiger, 140 inches long with a 40 inch tail, 44 inches tall at the shoulder, 700 pounds

Susie

Female Siberian Tiger, 113 inches long with a 36 inch tail, 39 inches tall at the shoulder, 400 pounds

Samson

Male Bald Eagle, 40 inches body length, over 7’-6’’ wingspan and 14 pounds


I was sitting in the front row of the troop staging area of the space station above the planet Addison III. The planet was named after its discoverer and circled a G type star. I was awaiting the arrival of the rest of our Team and our Partners. I had recently finished composing the next chapter of the current story that I am working on in my mind and took out my notebook to start writing it out. Some of the troops sitting behind me noticed the pictures of cats on the cover of the notebook and started to giggle and laugh. Even though they kept their hilarity very quiet, I still heard them, as I have enhanced hearing as well as several other enhancements. I turned to look at them.

“Don’t you like cats?” I asked. The laughing and giggling stopped immediately.

“We just aren’t used to seeing Master Sergeants with pictures of cats on their stuff. None of our NCOs would have that,” a young buck Sergeant told me with a straight face.

“I have several cats. If you are fortunate, you may get to meet them,” I told those sitting there to looks of amazement and then fear as they saw the patch on the left shoulder of my uniform when I returned to my writing.

You see, I am an author in addition to the other things that I am. While you may consider writing things out by hand at the end of the 26th century very odd, allow me to explain. Of course we, that is our Team, all have standard Military Personal Data Units (PDU) and even our Partners have them. They are for official use only and the memories are downloaded to the Military Intelligence net when we finish an assignment, plus the memories are wiped so we start with fresh units for each assignment.

Others on the Team do have civilian PDUs, but they tend to not last when we go out on assignments. To counter this, I write out my stories on a special metallic paper that won’t burn and can’t be torn. I leave it in a special box when out in the field. Later, I scan it into a computer when on leave.

It was only a few minutes after speaking to the troops that my writing was interrupted again.

“Master Sergeant Jensen,” a loud voice called. I looked up to see a regular Army Major standing near me with an upset expression on his face. Since he wasn’t a Special Operations Officer, I wasn’t very worried.

“Are you looking for me sir?” I asked rising from the seat and lying the notebook on it.

The major, who was about 5’-9’’ tall and maybe 170 pounds, stared at my 6’-5’’ frame and my 240 pounds of muscles for several seconds before saying anything.

“We have a problem with ... with your ... your... !” he stumbled to a halt.

“Partners?” I injected.

“Yes, your Partners. We need you to assist us in unloading them,” he finished.

“Lead on, sir,” I told him, and he quickly led the way down a side hall to an unloading dock. I could hear my Partners as we entered the dock, and they were very unhappy.

On arriving near their cage, I could see a medic was already there treating a man and a woman who had been clawed. Susie was also in my mind as soon as she caught my scent, but she only said one word.

Kittens!” she sent in a joyful burst of telepathy.

“Again?” I asked verbally as we drew closer.

“Yes,” Bob, her mate, growled audibly in his deep Tiger voice. Bob and Susie are genetically modified Siberian Tigers (Panthera tigris altaica). They are larger than wild Tigers and have modified larynxes and can communicate by telepathy.

Bob is 140 inches long with a 40 inch tail. He stands 44 inches tall at the shoulder, and he weighs 700 pounds.

Susie is a bit smaller at 77 inches long plus her 36 inch tail. She stands 39 inches tall at the shoulder and weighs 400 pounds.

“Why did your people attempt to open the cage without myself or one of my Team present?” I demanded, as there is a large sign on the cage indicating that the cage is NOT to be opened without a member of the Team present.

“We ... ah ... that is... , “ the major stumbled into silence again.

“You are fortunate that some of your people only got clawed. It is a court martial offense to interfere with the movement of our Partners,” I informed him.

“If I were you, I would forget that this happened, unless you are anxious to face a court-martial,” I told him following that. The major had a horrified look on his face.

“Move your people back out of the way while I remove them from the cage,” I told him next to another horrified look.

“You’re going to allow them out, here on the station?” he stammered.

“Certainly. They’re housebroken,” I told him with a grin before turning back to the Tigers.

Potty time,” I sent to them mentally, and they both went over to their individual scat boxes and did their thing. The major had moved his people well back away from the cage in the meantime.

Bob and Susie moved out of the cage and over to me after I pressed the button that unlocked and rolled back the cage door. They both rubbed up against me, but separately, as they are each heavier than I am. They also gave the major and his crew a teeth filled look.

“Snack,” Bob growled after brushing up against me.

Deer!” Susie sent after she had done the same. I went to the rear of the cage where the controls were and emptied their scat boxes before dialing up a snack of deer meat for them. I tossed each of them a chunk of the meat that the storage unit dispensed. They each snagged one of them and set to eating.

The major was staring at the cats eating and the blood from the fresh meat on his deck.

“How much meat is that?” he finally managed to ask.

“I only gave them twenty pounds each for a snack,” I told him.

“Snack!?”

“Yes, they can put away 50 to 75 pounds of meat at a time if they are hungry. Of course that will last them several days,” I told him before turning serious.

“I expect this cage to be delivered to where we are stationed within six hours of our reaching the planet. That is also in the regulations governing the shipment of Partners,” I told him. He appeared to be upset by this also.

“But ... but that will require scheduling a special delivery!” he said looking at the cage and its built-in ancillary equipment.

“It’s made to fit into a shuttle without any disassembly,” I reminded him before turning away.

“Let’s go, kids,” I said to the Tigers following that, as they had finished their snack by now and had even licked up the blood on the deck. Bob came over to my right side while Susie took her place on my left, and we walked toward the exit of the unloading dock.

“You aren’t going to leash them?” the major demanded in a horrified voice.

“Why?” I asked. “They both weigh more than twice what I do. What good would a leash do?” I asked. He didn’t reply, and we continued on our way to the troop area.

Luther was sitting in the chair next to my things with his Partner, Samson, a modified Bald Eagle (Haliaeatus Ieucocephalus), also an enhanced creature. Samson always traveled with Luther, as he doesn’t do well in a cage.

As we approached the troop area, none of them were looking at Luther and Samson any longer. Instead they were staring in shock at me and the Tigers. Luther was grinning as we reached him.

“Always the grand entrance, boss?” he asked.

“I needed to remind a major that he wasn’t to open the cage,” I told him. Samson was watching my hands as I said that, and I tossed the large fish that I had also gotten from the cage storage unit toward him. He snatched it out of the air before gliding down to the floor to consume it. Luther always wears a reinforced shoulder pad for Samson to ride on and a long thick leather arm sleeve for him to land on.

Samson is also genetically modified. He is larger than regular Bald Eagles in the wild having a body length of almost 40 inches and a wingspan over 7’-6’’ and weighing 14 pounds. He can communicate telepathically.

As Samson consumed the fish, the final regular member of our team arrived. Miranda handles the Magic for the Team. She is a very beautiful, sexy woman, and she arrived on the arm of a regular Army Captain with a Senior Lieutenant on her other side. Both men seemed to be mesmerized by her.

“Thank you so much for escorting me to the correct area, Captain,” she told the one before turning to the other. “And thank you, Lieutenant, for seeing that my baggage will be delivered to our shuttle,” she told him, before turning to the rest of us.

“Everyone is here, I see,” she said, and that was when both officers seemed to become aware of just how close both of them were to the Tigers and the Eagle in addition to the two of us. Both men jumped back in shock and frowned.

“Is this your Team?” the Captain asked in amazement.

“Yes, this is the rest of my Team,” Miranda told him with a smile, as she reached out to scratch Susie behind her ears and under her chin. However, she quickly withdrew her hand to look at Susie carefully.

“You’re pregnant!” she said in a surprised voice. Susie just smiled at her in response. Now a tiger’s smile is mostly in their eyes, but it also includes showing their teeth. All of those not on our Team instantly moved back away from us and the animals.

How many kittens?” Susie sent.

“I detected three. Two females and a male,” Miranda told her.

I guess that I should explain who we are now that you have met everyone. We are Team Tiger, a Special Operations Team, and we are a part of Military Special Operations which is a part of the Unity Military. There are also Special Operations Teams on the civilian side of the Unity Government, but they deal with government problems such as corruption of various types, and yes, there is still corruption in government. We deal with Military problems such as guerrilla conflicts between planetary governments and separatists or activist organizations opposed to them. We do not deal with full-fledged wars, as that is the job of the Unity Army.

While we are a part of the Unity Military, we are a separate organization from the Army, but we often use Army or Marine units in our takedown of guerrilla or separatists forces. The Team consists of me, Master Sergeant Cleveland Jensen, Sergeant First Class Joel Luther, and Sergeant First Class Lucy Miranda. I am 6’-5’’ tall, weigh 240 pounds and have blue eyes and short sandy blond hair. Luther is 6’-0’’ tall at around 195 pounds with black hair and brown eyes. Miranda is shorter at 5’-6’’ tall, 36D-24-36 and around 140 pounds. She has long black hair and gray eyes. She is part oriental. All of us have been enhanced with telepathic powers and increased hearing and vision. We also have stronger bones, and larger muscles for more strength plus the ability to run faster to try to keep up with our Partners. We can also get by for an extended period with less sleep than more normal people.

Our Partners you have already met. Bob and Susie are eight years old and Samson is six years old. We have been together for about four and a-half years.

“When do we leave, Top?” Miranda asked after checking on Bob also.

“We should be boarding in about twenty minutes or so. They should be calling our names anytime now,” I told her, as she went to check on Samson also. She frowned on checking him.

“Samson is unhappy,” she told me and Luther.

“Why is he unhappy?” I asked.

“He wants a mate,” Miranda told us.

“That could be a bit hard to arrange. There wouldn’t be any way for them to build a nest or for us to move it around, or to take care of the chicks,” I told the others and transmitted the same information to Samson. Apparently he was still unhappy, as he pointedly ignored me. Luther put his arm down on the floor, and Samson hopped on to it. Luther then transferred him to his shoulder.

Our Team was called shortly after that, and we departed the staging area to follow the red line on the floor as directed to the docking bay where our shuttle was. A few of the Army troops had also been called, but they stayed a safe distance behind us, as it was apparent that they didn’t want to disturb either of my Partners. They should have been more worried about Samson, as he has long, sharp talons on his feet and tends to lead with his feet and legs in an attack.

The shuttle that we boarded was a standard Unity Space Force shuttle. Our Team took the front seats. Several seats around us had been removed to make room for the Tigers, and there was a padded bar between two seats for Samson to perch on during the descent. The troops with us took the back seats at the rear of the cabin. There were two armed Space Force Marines on the shuttle as security. They sat between us and the troops, but were only carrying pistols. I was sure that there were rifles nearby in a locker.

The shuttle pilot, a Space Force Warrant Officer, came through the cabin checking on everything. He especially eyed Bob and Susie, but didn’t say anything. Our departure was announced shortly after he returned to the flight deck. This was to be a standard drop to the planet’s surface and not a Tactical Drop like those used by Space Force Marines during an assault. For that reason, we hadn’t put restraints on Bob or Susie to keep them in place. Their claws were strong enough to keep them in place during a normal descent. The rest of us buckled our seat belts when instructed.

There were a few seconds of weightlessness when we were ejected from the station and before we were far enough away from it to fire the engines, but again that was normal procedure.

The descent had been going very well without too much turbulence or other problems, and the altimeter on the front cabin wall was indicating that we were nearly down to eighty thousand feet when a klaxon alarm sounded.

“All personnel go to full safety harnesses and prepare for evasive maneuvers. Somebody do something to secure those Tigers. We are under missile attack,” a voice announced as the shuttle made an abrupt change of course and altitude, throwing everyone in the cabin around in their seats.

Dig your claws into floor padding as tightly as possible,” I sent to Bob and Susie telepathically just before there was another abrupt change of course and altitude. This was followed by a loud bang which we shouldn’t have been able to hear at this altitude. It would appear that a missile had exploded very near us.

“We’ve been winged!” a voice from the cockpit announced over the PA system. “Prepare for emergency assault drop in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1 ... drop,” the announcement continued, and the bottom seemed to drop out of the ship as it went into a nearly vertical dive to lose altitude as quickly as possible. Everyone and everything was surprised by the suddenness of the change, and there was another loud bang, but we seemed to still be in one piece. Both cats were screaming out their fear, and they weren’t the only ones, as just about everyone was screaming, except the two Marines, I noticed.

The readings on the altimeter dropped like a stone, and we were down to just under ten thousand feet in what seemed like no time when the pilots tried to pull the ship out of the dive. It shuddered and shook like it was coming apart, and in fact there were a couple of small cracks visible in the walls of the cabin. There was also the sound of air rushing through them and the smell of heat from the skin of the shuttle and possibly a fire which I hoped remained on the exterior of the ship.

“Prepare for a crash landing. We’ve lost the engines and the landing gear. We are trying to reduce our speed, but we will still be going way too fast when we hit. Tie down those cats with something,” a voice directed over the PA.

The Marines had pulled cargo straps from under their seats and threw them to Luther and me.

“Do what you can,” they shouted to be heard over the general noise level.

Bob and Susie knew that we were in deep trouble, and didn’t resist as Luther and I did what we could to quickly tie them down with the cargo straps. It was a poor job at best but was all that we could do in a short time.

“Prepare for crash landing,” came over the PA just after we had finished with the cats, and we all strapped in as tightly as possible. Samson had moved from his perch to stand against the forward cabin bulkhead, and had sunk his talons into the floor padding.

Everyone had no more than finished strapping themselves in when the shuttle spun out of control. There was a loud crash and more cracks appeared in the cabin walls, and then we were smashing through the jungle where we were going to crash. The noise was horrendous, and we all bounced around as the shuttle slammed into trees and vines before coming to an abrupt stop, throwing everyone forward against their restraints. This was followed a few seconds later by a sharp drop that shook the entire ship, or at least what was left of it. Then there was silence for a few seconds before we started to smell smoke. Something was on fire.

“Cut those cats lose, while we start issuing weapons,” one of the Marines shouted at us, as they turned to check on the troops and open the weapons locker and other lockers.

Luther and I drew knives from our backpacks and quickly cut the straps holding down Bob and Susie. She seemed to be all right, but Bob was a little slow getting up. Miranda had gone to check on Samson. She soon brought him over to us. She had used her knife to cut up a seat covering to wrap around her arm so Samson could ride on it. She transferred him to Luther before checking on Bob.

“He’s a bit stunned, but will be all right. We need to get out of here,” she said, as the smoke coming from the fire was much thicker now.

The Marines had gotten the jammed hatch open with the help of some of the troops, and one was still issuing weapons.

“Luther, get the Partners outside and grab a couple of weapons for us. I’m going forward to check on the flight crew,” I told him. I saw Susie bump Bob with her head to nudge him toward the hatch before I moved toward the flight deck.

The flight deck was a mess with a thick tree branch that had smashed through the forward window and impaled the copilot, pinning him to his seat. The pilot was only a bit better, but I cut away his restraints and dragged him out of his seat which was skewed from the impact of the landing. There was also a first aid kit in the cockpit, and I pulled it off the wall along with retrieving the survival kit under the pilot’s seat. The one under the copilot’s seat was unreachable, and I left it.

The smoke was very thick by now, and I dragged the pilot off the flight deck until I could get him in a fireman’s carry in the cabin. Staggering through the suffocating smoke, I bounced off of a couple of the seats, but made it to the open hatch and jumped out. It was about six feet to the ground, and we landed hard. Thankfully there were hands to help both of us up. I was coughing from the smoke.

“We need to get away from here before that fire gets worse and something blows up. Plus the fire will mark where we came down, and we can expect to have visitors before long,” the Marine Sergeant told everyone.

A couple of the troops had taken the pilot from me along with the first aid kit and were working on him under some trees a short distance from the ship. Luther handed me a rifle and some ammunition, and Miranda had all of our backpacks.

“I guess there is no way to retrieve my clothes, is there?” she said in a sad voice.

“Not likely. How is Bob?” I asked finally getting the coughing under control.

“He’ll be all right. He was just a bit shook up by the landing. He’s heavier than Susie and must have moved more in the straps. She’s watching him. We’ll need to move out of here soonest, I guess,” she finished. I couldn’t have agreed with her more, but there were things to do before we did.

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