by J.J. Mainor
Chapter 2-5
Dorsey was led into a set of quarters by his mistress. She introduced herself as Gao Yan, though the Lieutenant was both too drunk and too self-absorbed to care. Gao herself wasn’t concerned for her life to worry about what some drunk soldier might do. She was only interested in keeping her little soldier boy happy.
She tugged at his shirt, hinting to what she wanted. Dorsey was more than interested; he had his tank top and his pants off, and was reaching for his boxer briefs before she had even raised the bottom of her shirt to her breasts. He was eager. She teased, and she already had him at full attention.
“You been in space long time,” she asked in her soft, seductive voice.
“More than two years.” With his last garment gone, he grew impatient and helped with her shirt.
“So you fly the ship.”
The girls always went for the pilots, which in the case of these larger starships meant either the Navigational Officer or the Chief Engineer. Communications Officer wasn’t so sexy, but in two years, he had experience at most of the stations anyway. If it was what kept her moist, then he’d play up those roles.
“I’m Communications Officer at the moment, but I was at Navigation for six months. I could fly you to those three moons and back if you wanted.”
Yet, for its lack of sexiness, it was his current job that brought the joy to her eyes.
“Communications! So you talk to everyone.”
Dorsey fumbled for her bra, but his fingers didn’t want to work magic on the clasp.
“I’ve spoken with a few generals in the last few months.”
Gao helped him with the bra, unwrapping her breasts as if the most special of Christmas presents hid inside. Dorsey’s eyes were so glued to her copper flesh, he didn’t notice her hands as they set the skimpy garment on the make-up counter and retrieved a syringe hidden among the brushes.
“Your eyes are so beautiful,” she remarked, pulling his gaze upward into her smooth face, and away from her occupied hand. “I imagine the things they have seen as Communications Officer.”
And Dorsey imagined the things he would like them to see. Before he could divert to a more desirable sight, he felt the needle enter the back of his neck. His lust faded away to confusion which faded further into emptiness. The girl and the room blacked out from his mind as he crumpled to her feet, unconscious.
Gao set the needle back on the make-up counter and pressed a small button on the side of the mirror. The reflective glass faded away uncovering a scrambler plate. Its controls were revealed when she flipped over an uncluttered portion of the counter. A few movements across the key pad and Dorsey was absorbed in the familiar flash of white light, remaining on the floor where he fell once the light had faded. His life pattern had been saved and whatever secrets Gao wanted from his brain were safely stored in the unit’s memory.
Another woman in full military uniform arrived to help. In her half-dressed state, Gao stood at attention and saluted.
“Did you get it, Sergeant,” the newcomer asked.
“Yes, Colonel Lung. This one is involved in communications. He should give us information on ship movements and positions.”
“And the required frequencies to hack into their network. Excellent! Let’s get this cleaned up and begin extracting the information.”
“Cleaned up” meant a variety of things depending on the situation. In this particular case it meant moving the sleeping Lieutenant and his clothes to a neutral location. When the sedative wore off, he would have no idea what had happened. He would think only that he got too drunk to remember. The poor guy would never know his mind had been captured and the knowledge of the Freedom’s communications tucked away in his brain was headed for an Imperium Intelligence office.
In their own make-shift office, Colonel Freedom neared the end of his meeting with his contact. The mysterious man handed the Colonel a nondescript data chip.
“Don’t forget, some of this is highly classified. Even your XO isn’t cleared for everything, so go through this carefully before briefing your crew.”
The two saluted each other after Freedom tucked the chip in his breast pocket. He left the quarters and made his way back to the festival atmosphere of the promenade. Spying the bar his men disappeared into, he wondered how many of them remained and how many were still conscious.
Three of his officers remained at their table, and amusingly, Remy was still with them. Freedom supposed he had been training the guy well the past few weeks; that he didn’t try to run or escape. And clearly he wasn’t trying to spread his UN nonsense of peace, love, and harmony to the people of the Eastern Imperium.
Drake and Anders started to rise and salute their CO. Bender was too far gone to stand, and thankfully for his dignity, Freedom told his friends to remain seated.
“I need to return to the ship,” he told his officers. “Enjoy your shore leave.” He looked to Remy to address him directly. “Before you let them get you too drunk, I would suggest heading to the canteen across the way. Try the pork dumplings while you can still enjoy them.”
The Colonel left the men behind him, imagining the shock on the Doctor’s face at being trusted unescorted on this world. But Freedom had more important things to worry about, and his mission profile was too confidential to have Remy watching over his shoulder. He retreated to an out of the way spot so his own people could easily scramble him from the Imperium complex.
His XO, Lieutenant Colonel Fortune waited by the scrambler as he materialized on the plate. “Cancelling shore leave so soon, Colonel?”
“I have a new mission profile to study. Feel free to take my place down there.”
Fortune followed his Commander out of the scrambler room on the way back to the bridge. “I’m good, sir. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Freedom thought about it for a moment, keeping his contact’s directive in mind. He couldn’t yet show Fortune the information on the chip, but there was a way he could help.
“I need you remain in command while I assemble the brief.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Back in the bar, Remy decided to leave the officers and take up the Colonel’s suggestion. It was impossible to believe he was being trusted by himself down here, so he figured it had to be a test of some sorts. Not wishing to ruin the secrecy and privacy he had managed to scrap together back in his quarters, he ventured across the promenade to sample these famous dumplings.
Remy passed by a mess of people sharing his enjoyment of this marketplace. The military uniforms of the Eastern Imperium stood out, but not painfully so. They served as a reminder that despite the pleasurable atmosphere inside this complex, it was still a military operation.
Many more of the inhabitants wore clothing similar to the miners he had tried to save on LX-925. The level of grime and filth told him which were coming off shift and which were about to start work. He looked across the varied faces wondering if these people had been copied or cloned to bolster the worker population. Given the Imperium had a population almost five times that of the Republic back on Earth, it seemed unlikely they had a shortage of workers, but secrecy likely meant the people around him could never be allowed back home.
Remy wanted to ask around to see if he could determine the abuses undertaken by their government, but it was too dangerous. The diplomats of all four nations out here colluded, despite their political differences, when it came to the secrecy and security of their individual space programs. Like the Republic miners, these people probably had no idea they were being used. All it would take was one loyal subject to report to the station administrator that he was asking questions, and it would get back to the Freedom.
Remy shoved his growing anxiety and anger down into his chest before it could explode in his head. He stepped into the canteen and took a seat at the counter. The server took his order and within minutes, returned with a plate of steaming, hot dumplings. Having spent some ti
me in the Imperium back on Earth, Remy had tasted a more authentic dumpling, but he had to admit this was the closest approximation to Earth food he had so far sampled. If he had anything to trade, he would certainly try to trade for the scrambler recipe.
Also By J.J. Mainor
The Depot-14 Series
The Americium Shipment
Best friends Jakarta Jones and Colton Wells own and operate one of fourteen supply depots in orbit around the planet Durango. Today proves to be a bad one when an armed gang boards the depot, taking them and their clients hostage while they wait for a cargo ship carrying a valuable load of americium. To keep the hostages alive, the pair must bide their time and wait for the right opportunity to strike back. But as the cargo ship grows ever closer to the station, can they find that opportunity, or will they lose the americium?
Broken Saber
When Colton goes down for murder, it’s up to Jakarta to find the evidence that will free him.
Family Vengeance
After returning home to settle the estate, Colton learns his father’s death was murder. Now he must fight his own desire for revenge to avoid becoming a murderer himself.
Crash Landing
A security job turns into a fight for survival when a passenger ship crash-lands on the hostile world of Hen. While Jakarta struggles to defend the survivors, her biggest threat may not be the natives.
Revenge With a Kiss
Jakarta falls for a traveler Colton doesn’t like. Are his feelings justified, or is it a case of simple jealousy?