Chapter 1 - Alien Tardigrade TF, Weight Gain [Part II]

            Catalina stared longingly at the captain’s chair.
 
               She knew the captain - not particularly intimately; but the VSC Steadfast was something of a small vessel, so everybody knew everybody onboard. She was most familiar with the sight of them occupying their seat; facing the helm, overlooking a bevy of workstations set a level down… All of which were empty; just like the captain’s seat.
 
               The damage report Catalina had seen in the genetics lab said the bridge was gone - and she supposed that was… Mostly true. Looking upward, she could see stars and far-off nebulae - the hull that formed the ceiling had been completely torn off; cracking open the bridge like a can of GalaCo rations. Understandably, the entire bridge was voided - exposed to the cold vacuum of space… Which Catalina had come to experience as a gentle tickle.
 
               Looking back downward, Catalina finds herself staring down at an unfamiliar expanse of blubber and flab set beneath rubbery, off-white skin. Strange as it was - this was what had become of her body. It’d only been an hour since she underwent her… Metamorphosis, so she still wasn’t used to it. Hell, she still wasn’t used to seeing it. Whenever the pronounced curvature of her smoothed-over breasts came to intrude within her field of vision, she flinched - such a reaction made her wonder if she’d ever grow accustomed to a form like this.
 
               Even if it had its benefits - the foremost of which being her ability to exist in the depressurized bridge - she’d noticed her fair share of detriments. She moved noticeably slower than before - tangibly hindered by the weight of her new form. Part of her hoped that the artificial gravity of the ship would be deactivated to mitigate this, but… She supposed it was a little better that it was still operable. Even considering that she’d been making a cautious advance through the voided halls, she still felt like she’d wasted a lot of time.
 
               Another setback came when she had to reroute her trip from the lab to the bridge - an airlock malfunctioned; only opening halfway… And, offering only a two-foot-wide gap for her to cross, forced the mutated woman to find another airlock to advance through. Accustomed to her… Prior build, Catalina was tempted to try and squeeze through - but a simple survey of her newfound bulk made the impossibility of the endeavor clear.
 
               Among the most recent inconveniences of Vekk biology she found came when she arrived at the bridge. Before investigating any of the navigational consoles or operable workstations, she made her way to the captain’s chair. Exhausted from her trek - her first instinct was to sit down and rest…
 
               But; with the seat being sized for a human, she found her plump, alien ass too wide for the narrow seat - feeling the arms dig into her soft buttcheeks and forcing her off. Thus, Catalina was left to stare longingly at the captain’s chair… And silently bemoan her new size.
 
               Catalina made her way down a set of steps, into the workstations - some of which still had power. Admittedly, she felt daunted by the amount of… Knobs and buttons on each of them. There was something… Scary about them she couldn’t quite place - but beyond that concern, she had little faith in her ability to operate any of them. Nothing seemed marked - at least not clearly. She was a scientist, sure - but she wasn’t trained to operate anything on the bridge.
 
               Passing one screen, she saw it flash - drawing her unblinking eyes toward it. It strobed white for a few moments - before solidifying as a message.
 
               “Hello.”
 
               Catalina tilted her head; her mandibles flexing soundlessly in the airless void. There was a keyboard set onto the console before her - so she carefully entered a message. 
 
               “Helo” She quickly punches enter - then winces at the misspelling. She hadn’t caught it as she was entering it, even if she was looking right at the screen.
 
               “I cannot find records of a Vekk among the crew of the VSC Steadfast. Are you a member of the crew? Y/N”
 
               Catalina looked down at the keyboard - trying to find a Y. Was this keyboard different than hers, or…? Whatever, she found it. “Y. Who ar” Wait, where was Y again? Damn it. “U?”
 
               “I am the personal assistant and tactical informant to this ship. User-friendly sobriquet: PATI. Please state your name and designation.”
 
               Ah, PATI. She was used to hearing her announcements; but not quite used to interacting with her. It felt a little strange doing so like this, but… She supposed the vacuum left her with no choice. Catalina could feel her mandibles clicking pensively. “Ct”... That came before the ‘a’, right? “alen.” Good enough - now, how did you spell xeno-... Xeno-bye-... Her position? Scratching her head with her chitinous hands, she hastily punches in “Crew.” 
 
     “Referencing. No entry found for crew member C’talen. Indexing…” Eh? That didn’t sound right. “Complete. Good evening C’talen. May I help you today?”
 
     Unwilling to waste any more time, she begins to type. “Ship dameg. Other ppl?”
 
               “The VSC Steadfast has received considerable damage as a result of a celestial event. Relative to their positions at the time of impact, I calculate casualties equal to 60% of the crew.” Catalina could feel her heart sink - at least; she thought she could. The pulsing and shifting of her new biology made it hard to place a reaction as visceral as that. “Relative to their positions at the time of impact, and relative to the number of dispatched escape pods, I calculate that the remaining 40% of the crew has successfully evacuated, and are undergoing planetfall as we speak. Do you have any further inquiries, Ct’alen?”
 
               Truthfully, she had plenty - but she had trouble putting them into words. She knew she was alone on this ship - which, as far as she was aware, was aimlessly drifting. Her mandibles continued to click as she stared at the screen - overcome with a sense of anxiety. She survived the impact and survived the depressurization; but she couldn’t just stay here. Nervously, she types “I wan to go hme.”
 
               “Registering.” After a moment of consideration, PATI continues. “Damage to starboard engines 3 and 4 and port engine 7 severely limits this ship’s navigable range… Calculating course.” Catalina leans closer to the screen. “Request plausible. ETA: approx. 372 hours.”
 
               Catalina jumps up - or tries to. Her legs don’t properly leave the ground; instead, she feels her bulk lift just a bit; then come down forcefully - jiggling for a moment after her jubilant leap. She leans forward, planting one palm on the keyboard and hastily typing with the other. Unaware of her… Misinputs, she enters “/uoo/jjo; thnkz”
 
               “My apologies. Sol Common input devices transliterate Vekk Tonal poorly, but I am able to discern your appreciation from your message.” PATI replies. “Please remain safe during our transit, crew member C’talen. I will remain at your disposal should you need me.”
 
               Catalina felt odd - she wanted to smile, but… Her anatomy couldn’t manage it. Reaching down, she runs a hand across her stomach - feeling frost building up on her doughy flesh as her perspiration freezes over. Taking PATI’s words to heart - she leaves the bridge - feeling her belly tense beneath her fingers. She couldn’t tell what prompted the reaction - her continued exposure to the void or what, but… The closest thing she could liken it to was hunger. 
 
               Though confused - she felt like the simplest answer, in this case, was probably the best. Pulling the handle of the nearest airlock, she made her way to the mess hall - as close to the core of the ship as it was; she hoped it was untouched.
 


 
               Catalina struggled through an airlock as air rushed past her - marching past the pressure being sucked into the void behind her; feeling the unsupported weight of her body getting sucked backward… Until she made it to the other side, and hastily yanked the lever to shut it. Compared to when they open, the airlocks shut quickly - a sharp grinding noise preceding a heavy slam as they cut off the pressure. Spreading her mandibles, Catalina gave a low, shuddering sigh.
 
               When she tried to breathe in, she found the air in the hall… Scarce - but quickly replenishing. It gave her no small amount of confidence that the oxygen synthesizer was still active - but there was something about the air that felt different. Even once she moved into a  more properly-ventilated hall, there was something about it that felt stale as she breathed it in. It was as she walked that she began to notice how different the simple act of breathing was for a Vekk - compared to how she’d been managing in the void. Each breath came heavily and phlegmatically - entering her body with a snort or sniffle, and exiting with a wheeze. At first she prescribed this to the exertion of returning to an area with life support, but the heaviness of her breathing didn’t stop - even as she arrived in the mess hall. 
 
               As she hoped - there were no airlocks active; so the hall was untouched… Somewhat. There were plates still on the tables - and food still on the plates, half-eaten. Some dishes had been knocked on the floor - she could see a defined boot print in a pile of mashed vegetables - leading toward the entrance; and presumably over to the escape pods. 
 
               Making her way over to one of the tables, she felt her stomach wince again as her beady eyes fell upon a plate. Sitting in a pool of gravy was a loaf of meat; the likes of which the chefs had never been clear about the origin of, and Catalina had, frankly, never quite enjoyed, but… As hungry as she felt, she figured it was worth a shot. Her body had been through a lot - she was sure she’d been working up an appetite. 
 
               At first, she reaches for a fork nearby - catching it in her chitinous fingers, and… 
 
               Eh…
 
               What did she do with this, again? 
 
               There was a tickling sensation in the back of her mind - she chittered and growled as she looked at the thing, recognizing its relevance, but not its utility. Her stomach flexes again - this time reverberating around to her sides. Frustrated, Catalina casts the weird device aside, and picks up the meatloaf in her hand. She can feel the gravy roll down her palm; travelling up and down the defined segments of her flesh as she moves it closer to her mandibles, which spread in anticipation. She can feel a rung of small teeth dig into the soft meat; securing around it and lurching as the food is dragged into her gullet. Her mandibles click shut to seal her mouth over, and she chews - or… Tries to. 
 
               Her mouth and throat seem to have blended together at some point; lined with sharp teeth she seemed to have some sort of control over; extending them in time with the constrictions of her throat as the food makes its way into her stomach. She doesn’t quite taste it - but its… Presence inspired her to seek out some more. She found a little bit of difficulty with the rest of her plate - the small, beaded vegetables and the mashed stuff wouldn’t fit neatly in her hand, but she did manage to find a few more pieces of meat. Some of them had bones - but admittedly, the sensation of something hard and firm rolling down her throat made it a little more satisfying.
 
               Her meal was underscored by two sensations - the first being that ominous throbbing; which seemed to grow stronger around her sides, and the second being a growing feeling of moisture across her skin. Even ignoring the food residue on her hands - she could see a fine gloss overcoming her skin; settling as a somewhat greasy layer over her flesh. It wasn’t until she noticed the texture of it that she became aware of a growing scent in the air - beyond that of her meals. It wasn’t a scent she could easily place or describe - but she felt like it… Meant something.
 
               Giving a warbled sniffle, she could discern some alien quality of the scent that bore significance beyond words. It made her feel… Hungry? Uncomfortable? No - she already felt that; but the scent somehow conveyed the information that she did. 
 
               With a warble, she plops herself down on a  table - feeling her wide rear dimple in. Previously she’d been tempted to take a seat on one of the benches, but they were attached to the tables - too close for her to fit. She hadn’t really realized it before, but she seemed to stand at a considerably higher vantage than before; able to easily take a seat on the table itself. 
 
               Once more, her stomach and sides winced - and she gives a displeased screech. Looking down - trying to crane her neck past the intrusive rotundity of her breasts - she looked down to the blubbery folds of her sides, reaching down to feel them… And in doing so, comes into contact with something hard.
 
               Giving a more curious chirp, she palms her fat again - feeling something pressing against the softness of her skin. Following the sensation, she looks over; and through the veneer of her milky skin, she can see a darker shape; curled up beneath her flesh. The longer she looked, the weirder the sight became - and as her body throbbed again, she could see it unfurl into a star shape. 
 
               She could feel it unfurl. Tentatively, she attempted to tighten her muscles again - and managed to flex it shut again. Her moment of curiosity quickly turns into a period of delirium - as her vision seems to go askew. The tubby Vekk wobbles on the table - kicking her legs up and dizzily warbling as the world around her goes cock-eyed and blurry - first from one end, but soon balancing - if only momentarily. She finds herself falling backward as her vision is hiked up; coming to rest gently on the soft folds of her back. Her head swims - unable to shield herself from the sights - but it isn’t too long before she finds her vision correcting itself… In part.
 
               Her field of vision has… Changed, she realizes. Tentatively raising a hand before her face, she realizes she can follow it as it moves around to the side of her head; visible even as her hand nears where her ear used to be - and moving upward, finds her field of view extending past her brow and nearly to the top of her head. Tracing a finger across her face; she finds herself bumping into new protrusions - and judging by her newfound sight, she quickly realizes she’s become the owner of two new sets of eyes - one beside, and the other above her original set. 
 
               And yet, it fails to abate the discomfort in her stomach - having hastened through the process of developing her new eyes - now becoming a repeated, pulsating sensation; pounding away at her sides. She can feel something inside of her - not simply passively; but a new group of muscles she found herself in control of. When her stomach lurches - she flexes, trying to liberate the new growth; as surreal as it feels, she can feel a part of herself pounding at her own skin. 
 
               The Vekk yeowls and strains - and curiously; watches the central roll of her stomach begin to bulge out. A protrusion forms; one she, with delirious fascination, finds herself in control of, twitching and rolling around the inside of her skin. With another pulse, she beats against it - and watches as a single chitinous digit pokes free. Another pulse, another pair of digits spring from a widening tear - and with a triumphant bellow, she flexes the newly-formed muscles and watches the top membrane upon her flesh tear open - revealing a fresh, glossy new fold of flesh beneath - but more than that, revealing what had been growing within her.
 
               Resting upon her stomach; tired and strained, was another pair of arms; covered in the same greasy slime that now thinly coated her skin. The fragrance now filling the air spoke of relief, as she tentatively flexed her new fingers. Her new set of arms were visibly similar to the first; however…
 
               Positioned lower than her original pair, she experimentally reached downward - managing to overcome the rotundity of her stomach. Chittering dazedly, Catalina ran a new hand across her thigh. She was surprised with her new range of movement, and moreover, how easily she adopted the new growth, but… She supposed that was only natural. Vekk could have up to six arms, she distantly recalled - and it wasn’t like they had any trouble using them.
 
               Catalina gave a low warble, remaining on the table - free of the discomfort of her growing limbs, she felt relieved and full. While she’d only really eaten what was made available to her, she was confident that there was enough food left in the mess hall to sustain her for the next few days… Or, what did PATI say? Three hundred-something hours? 
 
               Admittedly, she couldn’t muster up the desire to do the math - after all, there was no use stressing about it. She’d get there when she gets there. Until then, she didn’t have anything to do but wait. 
 
               Feeling her new hands rubbing her thighs felt… Strange; but, she supposed that was something that underlined the whole of her experiences with her body… Something she was already growing rather weary of. Not her body itself - but the strangeness of it. If she had so much time, she figured - she’d behoove her to get used to it.
 
               She raises her upper pair of arms and, with a low, rolling chirp, places them upon the soft surface of her breasts. She was surprised to find the sensation somewhat plain - she expected it to feel a lot better, but… She didn’t know what to expect. Simultaneously, her lower arms heft up her stomach; and one arm moves lower, between her legs, and-
 
               There she finds a sensation she expected. A sharp cry escapes her mandibles - finding her finger trekking across a surface of firmer flesh. It felt strange in a way she couldn’t quite describe - dragging her finger from the outside of the… Aperture inward, she runs across a few ridges; laying flush against the surface of her skin for the most part, but the innermost segment venturing intward. Wheezing excitedly, she guides her hand further inward - and as her muscles twitch, she finds the flesh bowing outward somewhat; extending to sit flush against the palm of her hand. 
 
               Before she ventures further - she flinches; hearing a bassy warble boom through the room around her. At first, she figures it’s distortion - but as it repeats, she can tell that the scratchy noise is something… Familiar. It sounded like something she’d said - or that she could say. Tensing her throat, she tries to repeat what she heard - parroting the warble.
 
               In response, it repeats; and this time, she can discern something from it. In the same sense as how the scent she’d noticed conveyed information - so too did the noise. Curiously - she attempted to vocalize her confusion… And as she did so - put into ‘words’ who she thought was speaking.
 
               “Is that PATI?” she chitters out; following with a husky cough. 
 
               The speakers respond in the affirmative. It takes her a moment, but she can discern… Phrases from her words. “Yes… Estimated... System…” 
 
               Sniffling a little, she responds. “Please speak slowly. I don’t understand.”
 
               After a pause, PATI resumes in the odd, chittering dialect. “My apologies.” the Vekk woman understands. “My preset for Vekk Tonal was utilizing transmission speeds for Dominion Tonal. Is this more appropriate, crew member C’talen?” 
 
               Raising one of her higher arms to scratch at her head, she responds “Yes.”
 
               “I am glad. I wished to inform you that we have entered the Fermi-II system. Estimated time of arrival to your destination will be approximately 369 hours. While it poses no threat to you, I must remind all crew members that prolonged exposure to the solar radiation of the Fermi-II star is highly dangerous, and that we will be passing through several radiation belts through our journey.”
 
               Fermi-II? That was-... That’s… The Vekk woman uses her lower arms to sit herself up, while her upper pair brace pensively over her chest. She couldn’t say why - but that seemed wrong, somehow. “Where are we going?” she warbles confusedly.
 
               “Having indexed crew member C’talen with limited information, required fields were automatically populated with the standard template of the Vekk species.” PATI begins. “Your request to return home prompted me to reference the homeworld listed in your file. Sternguard Lambda.” The AI pauses for a moment before inquiring “Has there been a mistake? It is critical that any necessary connections be made promptly due to the damage the ship has incurred.” 
 
               Has there been a mistake… The Vekk woman wants to say yes, but she isn’t prepared to say why or how. Her home - her homeworld; when she tried to think of it, her head went hazy - prompting her, unbidden, with imagery of craggy slopes, brackish water, noxious mists and… Great, beautiful spires of shell and bone. Sternguard Lambda… She chirps dreamily; her lowest hand drifting back around the surface of her thigh, under her stomach and-
 
               “Crew member C’talen?” PATI muses.
 
               “Yes!” she yelps. “No - yes… There… Hasn’t been a mistake.” she chitters out. 
 
               “I am delighted. I will keep you informed as we continue our journey.” With that, PATI goes silent; leaving the Vekk alone and wheezing. After a moment of silence, she speaks again.
 
               “PATI?”
 
               “Yes, crew member C’talen?”
 
               With her mandibles clicking nervously… C’talen muses “Can you inform me when we pass through the first radiation belt?” She can feel a sense of giddiness swelling in her chest.
 
               “Logged. As you wish, crew member C’talen.”
 
               Once again given some silence, C’talen leans back on the table; a resonant hum rising from her throat. Letting her mind drift off into a fantasy of those green mists, she guides her hand back beneath her stomach and between her legs… Eager to return home.