In the year 2067 the Ares-One spacecraft launched with seven astronauts to Mars for a three-year mission.

The crew of three women and four men hovered around the monitor in the common room at the beginning of Sol 90- using days measured in Earth time. They sipped pouches of coffee (still real freeze dried from Earth) and squeezed tubes of vaguely bacon and egg flavored paste from the food synth. Their ‘morning’ was a time to chat about their science, people back home, and news from Earth.

As Mission Control sent the morning briefing from Earth, the crew received an analysis of troubling data from the their ship’s AI: Now out of Earth’s gravity and protection from gamma rays, the male crew were seeing hormone spikes and blood changes that could affect their survivability. Excess testosterone production and its interaction with radiation were the culprits. They ran models on how to save the mission and came up with an unusual solution.

Angelique Sable, a dedicated 28-year-old mission specialist with dark hair and ambitious drive, was also Crew Morale Officer on the mission. She’d volunteered for Morale Officer because the mission psych team said she was suited for it and because it helped the pretty brunette earn a place on the historic flight. She and the other two female crewmates had recently sensed the men getting edgy, as if they had to work harder to stay on an even keel. This news might explain the situation.

As the briefing continued, Angelique’s eyes widened- This wasn’t an Ares-AI fluke, it was new orders for the Mars mission. The six crew members began to stare at her across the room. ‘Mission Comes First’ – their crew slogan- would take on a whole new meaning.

Her form-fitting flight suit hugged her heart-shaped ass and full rounded breasts. Commander Hale cleared his throat and said: “They briefed me on this an hour ago. Mission Control has run this a hundred ways but only found one solution, and that will mean a new assignment: Our Morale Officer provides, um, oral relief to the male crew daily. No other way to keep the men functioning. Turns out ‘Madame Palm’ won’t work because the uhhh, goo, would disrupt the enzymes in the bio-recycler. Vaginal extraction cleanup has same problem plus pregnancy is a no-go. Sorry Angelique- I know this isn’t what you signed up for, but hey, nobody expected this mission risk to come up.”

The men at the table looked confused at first, then astonished at what Mission Control had directed. They tried not to look into Angelique’s eyes, fearing their faces would betray them with horny grins. Lead Geologist Lauren McCall tried to suppress her shock by busily entering the ‘Fluid Extraction’ tasks into Angelique’s and each man’s daily roster. Medical Officer Priya Abu sternly turned away to review the data from Mission Control on the crew’s condition.



Mission control uplink confirmed: “Ares One confirm and accept. To be clear, the men’s emissions must be deposited into the Morale Officer’s esophagus where they will be digested. Risk to food synthesizers and air scrubbers is high if not followed.” With so many feelings and reactions all at once to this disturbing news, Angelique quietly pushed up from her post at the comm and drifted to her quarters.

Her daily roster was now packed between her science research and these sessions. She stared at her data pad with disbelief—Every Sol, every man. It showed that starting the next shift her schedule had blocks labeled Fluid Extraction. Angelique huddled in her sleep sack. Ragged breathing betrayed any sense of acceptance to this news.