You open your eyes and immediately begin thrashing around in panic. You're suspended in some strange fluid. It stings at first, but you quickly become used to it and can see right through it.
You're floating in a large translucent cylinder filled with the strange fluid, an oxygen mask covering your nose and mouth, several tubes shoved in to your arms. You're naked except for some red and blue underwear, a pair you can't imagine ever having picked out for yourself, that looks and feels unlike any material you've ever encountered before.
Beyond the tube the room you find yourself in seems to be completely made of some lustrous chrome-like material, with bright, blinking lights embedded in several panels of it. The carpet seems to match the underwear you find yourself in. There's a viewing panel in the wall in front of you, and through it you can see several building in the distance unlike any architecture you're familiar with, and above them a sky filled with celestial bodies you never thought you'd see outside of science-fiction.
The panic is starting to subside as the fluid around you begins to drain. Once you've accepted that you don't seem to be on twenty-first century Earth, your attention shifts to the woman at a control panel by your tank.
At least, she appears to be a woman. Just shy of five and a half feet tall, her ultra feminine, hourglass shape is evident even in unflattering surgical scrubs. But like everything else about your surroundings, something about her seems strange, just a little off. Her skin is just a little too smooth, a little too shiny, and a little too pink to be human. Her face is just a little too symmetrical. Her movements as she goes from monitor to monitor and panel to panel seem a little too precise. Almost . . . mechanical.
Her hair, which also appears to be unnaturally soft and smooth and shiny, flows down to her shoulders, each strand alternating between a multitude of neon colors.
She presses one more button and a panel opens in your cylinder. She easily catches you in her arms as you collapse through it. They seem soft and gentle, yet far stronger than you would expect of a typical woman.
She removes your mask and tubes with such proficiency that you don't even feel it.
After looking over -- no, scanning -- your entire body for at least a solid minute, she smiles at you.
"All vitals are normal, Commander."
You have a thousand questions.
"Commander? What? Huh? Where am I? What's going on?"
"Amnesia is a possible side effect of being resurrected in the biotank," she says. "I am your Advanced Artificial Intelligence Support & Logistics Android. Or Aaisla."
(The way she pronounces the name, the first two A's are silent.)
The fluid you're soaked in evaporates in the air, leaving you feeling dry, and, quite honestly, pleasantly refreshed.
A small tube opens up with a whoosh near your legs as Aaisla helps you back to your feet. There's a red and blue jumpsuit inside.
"Your uniform," Aaisla said. "But don't feel like you have to put it on on my account, Commander."
Was she . . . flirting with you? She even winked as she said it!
"Where am I?" you ask again.
"You're aboard the starship Kissimmee," Aaisla says. "Currently docked on the moon Alarv, among the human colony, Earth's first base."
You pull on the jumpsuit and begin zipping it up.
"And how did I end up in the . . . ?"
You look up from your jumpsuit, unaware of how close Aaisla's face is to yours. Your lips brush against her lips, which are astonishingly soft. In that moment, something deep in her code is activated. It overrides all of her current objectives, replacing them with only one primary, secondary, and tertiary goal: getting intimate with you!
The intense look in her eyes is so overwhelming that you find yourself backing away from her.
"I can tell you're frightened," Aaisla says, her hips swaying back and forth like a metronome as she slowly closes the distance between you. "I've been programmed to recognize, and replicate, all human emotions. Like fear. Or love. Or lust."
Tiny black bubbles form all over her body. When they dissolve, her appearance has changed. Most noticeably, her outfit. Instead of what looks like a professional nurse's uniform, she's now wearing the sexy Halloween costume version of the same. Her legs beneath the tiny skirt appear strong but feminine. The round, shiny cleavage of her well endowed bust makes you consider how perverted and/or lonely whoever designed her must have been.
Her face also looks slightly different. More "dolled up." Smoky eyes. Long, wet lashes. A pink blush in her cheeks. And glossy red lips that match the color of the insignia on her nurse costume.
"Especially lust," Aaisla says. "Especially with you. Especially right now."
You take another step back and bump directly into the resealed biotank. While you're stunned, Aaisla passionately pushes you up against the biotank, pushes her body up against your body, and pushes her lips up against your lips.
Her mouth -- well, all of her, to be honest, but especially -- her mouth feels unbelievable. Mind-blowingly soft, almost human, except, somehow, slightly better than human. The tip of her wet pink tongue slides between your lips and probes your mouth. Micro movements with her neck, lips, tongue, and face are far too precise for any human woman. Incredibly subtle, but intricately calculated to maximize your pleasure.
She secretes a simulation of human saliva, infused with chemicals that enhance emotional bonds. You feel bewildered, a little frightened, and, admittedly, more than a little aroused.
Still, you somehow manage to slip away from her. Her smile just gets bigger and more mischievous. She's learning. Adapting. Evolving. You can tell from her expression that this next time she won't let you get away so easily.
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