A Soldier For All Seasons Ch. 07

The Lady frowned as her ship comms sounded off, interrupting her studying. From the captain's chair, she pushed back the swing-table enough that she could rest her legs on it. Sometimes, calls from her higher-ups lasted way too long. She gazed out at the starry space in the ship's viewport, feeling the motion as her Showmaker-class ship swept towards the

"Computer, accept call."

"Sorry to call so late, Commander."

"No problem, Director. I was studying the reports that have just come in."

"You and every other one of us above three stripes. What do you make of it?"

"Is the intel good? It's difficult to believe."

"Verified by fifty plus fucking sources." The Lady raised her eyebrow. If Director Underwood was swearing, she must be without sleep. The Director only started swearing after thirty hours awake.

The Lady hummed, thinking quickly. The Director was patient with her in a way that she wouldn't be for anyone else, but they'd worked together a long time.

"Brave, but pretty reckless. Our boys have done similar heroics when they're not afraid of death, or, more often, when they actually want to die. Not on such a level as this, maybe. This Captain Clancy has a history of thinking outside the box to get results, so that's not such a surprise, but using drop-pods to blast down the bug's fuel lines is maybe the closest thing I've seen between stupidity and genius. He could have died a thousand times over."

"But he didn't." Underwood argued.

"Yeah, and that sort of luck works two or three times before it doesn't. My biggest concern is his casual command over bug ships -- I could just about ignore him flying the bug ship off of Duzuno, but taking a carrier and venting all the troops out? Firing on another carrier? I could do it, but he shouldn't be able to. You've checked his history?"

"You've seen the record. There's nothing censored. All human, all the way back."

"A cheating mother, maybe, who hid the evidence?"

"Cheating with what?" Underwood snorted.

The Lady shook her head. "Either way, I'm going to make an in-person visit, see him for myself."

"And then?"

"You're asking for my opinion?"

"Your recommendation? Should we pick him up and assign him somewhere with more action?"

The Lady nibbled on her lip. "Heroes are a chock a credit, and they usually end up getting themselves killed. But special people? Touched by something? The ability to change how a battle should go? They are different. They attract trouble and they go looking for it. If I'm right, you won't need to move him anywhere. You just need to keep your eyes on him, and help him out when he needs it."

***

Ana gazed at herself in the mirror, turning herself this way and that. She smiled widely, admiring her fuller figure. Her breasts had been perky but less than a handful before. Now, they were full, bouncing affairs, the sort with jiggle, the sort men would do a double take at. She didn't necessarily want that sort of extra attention, but as she trailed a finger down the trail of Nate-cum that glistened down her collarbone and coated her breasts, it had its perks. Nate clearly liked them, he'd filled up her belly and even pulled out to glaze her breasts.

"Isabelle, do you think rubbing it into my skin will have the same effect?"

Isabelle hummed, holographically projected from Nate's armguard on the bedside table. "Probably not. Consuming it would have the greatest effect, if my analysis holds up."

Nate groaned from the bed behind her, lazy and dozy in his post-orgasm pleasure. "Ana, you don't even know it was me that changed you."

Ana sniffed. "Don't be silly, Nate. I've been living off your cum for a week. What else could it be? Isabelle's already confirmed your semen has strange properties." She turned back to him and clambered back on the bed, cuddling into him with a blissful sigh. "Face it, Mister. You've got magic cum, just like a Taranasar would." She began licking the trails from her chest using her fingers, making sure not to miss a drop. It was still hot, and she thought to herself, it still tasted like he always had -- sweet and musky, the heat of it filling her up in her very core.

"Not this again." Nate rolled his eyes.

Ana squirmed against him, wondering how long it would be before she could get another load out of him. "I know I'm right, Nate. You're just like the Taranasar of Lunari myth. Every Lunari knows about the Taransar. He united the Lunari matriarchs and bred them to create the Lunari tribes that are still around today. He was a war-monger, an emperor -- he had thousands of children. There are so many Lunari socialite wanna-be's that claim to be children of the Taranasar. An heir to his powers. But you are, Nate!"

Nate hummed, projecting a star map on his armguard as he tracked the ship's course, listening to Ana absently. "But, babe, I don't have any Lunari heritage. No pointy ears or anything."

"Don't call me babe." Ana pouted. "I'm a Princess, you know, not one of your old human sluts."

"Ok, babe."

Ana giggled at his side, taking his cock into hand and leaning down to clean it of its shiny magic juice. "You become very arrogant when I'm pleasuring you, Nate." She chided. "It's very unbecoming."

"Shut up and suck, wench." Nate stroked her hair, entwining his fingers in her blonde mane.

She glowered at him as she settled onto his chest. "How insolent." She licked her lips. "I'd like to be a little taller, Nate."

"Huh?"

"The Taranasar could beautify his concubines. He'd change them to look how he'd like. Sooo, if you're making me into your perfect woman, I'd like to have longer legs." Ana rolled onto his chest and looked over her shoulder at her bubbly butt. "My ass is already pretty good, though, right?"

Nate squeezed her ass and kissed her on the forehead.

"You're not even listening to me." Ana grumbled, but she was still beaming. She was always like this after being fed, giddy and playful. Nate smirked down at her naked visage. She was becoming a lot more comfortable with her sexuality, naked a lot of the time, sitting on his lap, constantly touching him. He couldn't complain, even if her weeping pussy was still off-limits - he definitely wasn't going to bring up anal again, after she'd freaked out last time.

"Sorry, beautiful. I'm just thinking about our next course of action."

"We're going to the Dead Space, right?"

That had been Isabelle's call. The Dead Space was the stretch of space between the alliance controlled space and the beginning of the massive Bug empire. With few planets to fight over, and no forces willing to fight over it, it was a stretch of space for those unwilling to be overseen by the Federation or the Lunari, and willing to brave the potential of the Bugs coming forth. Mostly, pirates and smugglers used it a shuttle-run, or sometimes a base.

Isabelle had theorized that if there were traitors in the Lunari, or even in the Federation, they might well be communicating with someone in the Dead Space, a middleman who would then pass on messages to the Bugs. With no other leads, Nate had decided they should take a look for themselves.

But, as their ship roamed, controlled by Isabelle's capable hands, he couldn't help but worry. He'd never been out of Federation space before. They'd have no help, no support, no backup. Perhaps he was being reckless with the Lunari Princess, too confident after his victories that he thought was invincible.

"We've just entered it, in fact." Isabelle announced.

Nate patted Ana's butt. "Get dressed, sweetheart. Things could get dangerous."

She rolled away, searching for her panties. "Isn't the Dead Space pretty dead? And also spacious? Chances are pretty low we'd run into anything, right?"

He threw one of his t-shirts her way - when her belly was full, nothing else would really fit. "Given our luck recently, I'm not taking any chances."

They took their places on the bridge's chairs, settling back. Isabelle's holograph scampered across the bridge's console, her red sundress twirling magically. "Scanners not showing anything just yet, boosters on full. This is a nice ship by the way -- all the systems are new." She announced, hands on her hips as she stared at them.

"They didn't spare any expense when trying to kidnap Ana." Nate frowned.

"This is just a Moruscai Lunari swift-ship, one most nobles will use for small crew travel." Ana mused, trailing her hand across the tan wood framing the red cushioned arm-rest. "I would usually travel in something nicer."

"Nicer than this?" He chuckled. "It's the sweetest ship I've ever been on. Usually I'm in a forty-bunk dorm in a hunk of metal from two decades ago."

"There's plenty of hunks of metal on the scanners." Isabelle added. "Debris, pretty old debris, judging from the scanners."

Nate hummed. Usually space-scrappers were sent out to blow up all the debris and space-litter, even in the Dead Space, but space was too big for them to get everything.

"Anything interesting?"

"Nope. Wings from old smuggling ships, half an engine, about a thousand pieces of a fuel core."

"Pirate fights." He figured.

Ana sighed, scooching down into her chair and pressing a button on her arm-rest that kicked out a leg-rest. "Are we only going to be scanning for the next day?" She groused.

"You can get some sleep, if you want." He said.

"Ooh!" Isabelle bounced on her heels.

"What, have you found something?"

"No, no. But we can do this to pass the time!" Isabelle flashed and suddenly she was wearing a teal blue skintight latex Meka pilot costume, emblazoned with a big letter I -- it rather matched her hair. "What do you think?" She cocked her hips, hands on her side. "Do I look like a real girl?"

"You look gorgeous, Isabelle." Nate said truthfully. He took her in hungrily. "And I told you, you're very real to me."

She pouted. "If that was true, your cum would be down my throat, not Ana's."

Before he could protest, she flashed in a explosion of white pixels, and then she was wearing a black evening gown, cleavage down to her belly button, dress split all the way up her leg. "Look! You can take me to the Federation awards when you get your Fury's Fire Award for bravery."

"I'm not sure we'd make it to the ceremony, if you wore that." Nate admitted.

"I love it." Ana crossed her legs in her chair and clapped like a little girl. "Do another!"

Isabelle's fashion show passed the time pleasurably, even if he could easily see through the uneasy undercurrent. She was growing quickly, every human experience she saw making her desperate to experience the same. Every meal they ate, every adventure, every one of Ana's blowjobs, Isabelle looked on with wide yearning eyes.

Those same eyes widened again, as the console flashed red. "Nate, I'm picking up an SOS signal on our scanners." Isabelle twirled again and she was suddenly in an improbably tight Federation service uniform, jacket and skirt in shades of brown, complete with a cute little beret and white gloves.

"Bring it up on the screen." Nate ordered, leaning forward.

At first, it was just a dot, a glint of metal, but as they flew forward, the scene took shape. A dozen ships, holes torn out of them, like they'd been swam through by a cheese grater. They floated aimlessly, devoid of life. The ships were painted pure black, their hulls thick and wide. Classic pirate ships, their cargo bays enlarged for their bounty. Among the ships floated bodies, untouched, their eyes open, frozen by space. Humans, but their clothes were odd -- black robes with standing collars. Nate had only seen such clothing on monks.

"What...happened?" Ana asked. "Those holes..."

"That's not a plasma beam." Nate frowned. "Not a laser hit. Look how clean those holes are. No blackening, no sears."

"And you can see straight through to the other side."

"There's no heat burns. What the fuck? Isabelle?"

"Nothing on the energy scanners. No residue. Just the SOS from that ship in the center."

The ship in the center was like the rest, except it had one flickering external spot light illuminating the ship's name, stamped onto the hull. The Black Hand.

"Take us closer, Isabelle."

"Is that wise, Nate?" Ana nibbled on her lip.

"I can't ignore an SOS, even a pirate one. Besides, if this is the work of the bugs, we need to know more. If they've got a new weapon, our military needs to know about it." Nate didn't like it, even as he said it. Fuck, he wanted a cigarette. Or ten. Maybe a cigar from the Otolian Nebula.

"I'll land us in their hangar." Isabelle announced, swinging the ship towards the purple hatched force-field, translucent enough to see it was empty.

"Uh, is it unsecured?"

"I sent a request protocol, they're all open."

Nate grimaced. That made no sense. It was a good thing, since he had no exosuits and this ship didn't have a docking tunnel-hose, but why would they leave their doors open in a battle? All the ships looked like they hadn't even been in a battle, if it weren't for the gaping holes in the ships and the floating bodies.

Isabelle led them in smoothly and they touched down in the hangar with a thud. Inside, the hangar's lights flickered, shadows shifting on the walls. Nate checked his weapons and hit the button to drop the ship's ramp.

"Might be best if you stay here, Ana."

Ana sniffed. "There's no chance of that, Nate." She holstered a pistol and took a heavy breath. She shot him a quick smile. "I can't let the ship's Captain get killed, after all. I'd have to cook my own meals."

Nate snorted and started off down the ramp. The ship was dark and silent but for the whoosh and thwack of malfunctioning doors as they opened slowly and then slammed shut, like a cheaply made guillotine. Through those doors and into corridors, lit only by red alarms casting red shadows. The security cameras were disabled, their lens glinting. Through the empty corridors and up to the bridge. No bodies, no damage, no Captain, but the console's were still lit up.

"Isabelle, can you hook up to the computer?" Nate asked.

"I can't." She said from his armguard. "The consoles are lit up and some of the systems are still online, but the bridge computers and security systems are completely fried -- I'm surprised the SOS signal is even working."

Nate swore. How were they going to figure out what happened without the computers? No databanks, no security footage, no bodies, no weapon damage. Just floating ships with holes that looked like they'd been precision cut.

"What the fuck kind of mystery bullshit is this?" He grumped. "Straight out of some Dorothy Doyle book."

"Oh, I love her!" Ana remarked. "I like the Screaming Hand series with Mrs. Lampletty solving everything. They're so old fashioned. If she was here, she'd figure everything out."

"It was much easier when everyone wrote things down with pen and paper." Nate pressed some keys on the console, more out of hope than expectation. The keys didn't even beep.

"If only they'd stored their database somewhere." Ana hummed. Out of the bridge's screen, an icy blue corpse drifted by, mouth frozen in horror, arms extended like an eternal wave.

Fuck. Of course.

Nate clenched his fists. "Isabelle, are the cargo suction-beams still working?"

"Uh, yes. But there's no cargo out there, Nate -- they were probably coming back from selling it all off. There's nothing out there but bodies."

"Exactly. Bodies that probably have armguards or datachips. Videos with their loved ones, holomessages, journals. Information! Suck them all in, will you?"

"Oooh. On it."

It took a little time to bring them in, and when some of the bodies arrived, they cracked and split into limb-icicles, making Ana go noticeably green.

"This feels like an act of desecration." She murmured, hand to her heart.

"Better than them floating in space for eternity." He tried to retrieve something from a man's toolbag around his waist and ended up separating his torso.

"Is it? I think there's something romantic about floating in space forever." Ana turned her back, unable to look. "One of the stories about the old Lunari Queens said that, when she lost the King, she cut off her own hand and his and sent it into space, so that they could touch people all across the universe." She said wistfully.

"Yeah, that sounds like healthy behavior." Nate muttered under his breath. And, then, louder, he said. "Imagine being the kid that sleeps under the stars one summer night and wakes up getting groped by the dead Lunari royalty."

"Correction, Nate, it is likely that Lunari flesh would burn up upon entering a planet's atmosphere, ensuring the child is not traumatized." Isabelle piped up.

"Thanks, Isabelle." Nate huffed, unpeeling a toolbag while he tried to unzip it.

"You are welcome."

"Here we go." Nate held up a holochip like a trophy. "This is from the Captain of the ship himself. It's gotta have some information."

"Fill me up, soldier." Isabelle said seductively.

"Isabelle, please stop stealing lines from porno."

"I'm trying to represent a more human lifeform in order to interact with you more successfully." She pouted. "Also, your heart-rate is elevated whenever I use more adult dialogue, indicating you enjoy it."

Nate plugged the chip into his armguard. "Can you just play the damn chip?" He grouched.

The armguard projected up high, a more lively representation of the separated man below; pale and with a pinched face, his skin drawn from stress, a young man made old. "Captain's log, I don't know the date, maybe 1900 hours. Been thinking about what my Mama used to say when I skipped school, when she'd smack me around the head. The choices you make early are the ones that mean you don't get no choice later on." The man shook his head. "And boy, have I made some bad choices. One of them is coming back tonight. That freaky Judge." Nate felt his heart pound, watched Ana's mouth slacken. But the voice didn't stop.

"He wants some off the table work again. Paying well like always, but damn, he's a sick fuck. If people knew..." He whistled, long and loud. "Some of the boys don't like working with him, and they'll work with damn near anyone." The man rubbed a hand over his eyes. "I don't much like it myself -- he's dangerous, a sick fuck for sure...sorta man that just likes playing with power, finding out who has it, fucking with those that don't."

The projection lit up a cigar, took a long drag. "Saw the look in his eyes when he was last here. We gave what he wanted, he paid us. And then...fuck, sent chills down my spine. He just looked at us. And nobody'll believe me, but I swear to my grave that he was imagining killing us, imagining the blood dripping out." He exhaled a heavy smoky breath. "Maybe I'm letting the Judge stories get to me."

He grimaced. "But after he leaves, I swear I'm getting out of this crew, leaving them all." The man fiddled with his armguard, trying to end the call, shaking his head. "The choices we make early...Mama was right."

Ana looked at him with wide eyes and Nate felt like he had gold imbued in his stomach, it was so heavy.

He felt his feet lead him across to Ana. He pulled her up, almost absently, and squeezed her hands tightly.

"Do you know what this means? A clue!"

She laughed, pressing her forehead against his collarbone. "Okay, detective. What does it mean?"

"A corrupt Judge working with the bugs? Or at least, working with someone shady." Nate kissed her, filled with adrenaline.

"Judges have full discretion to work how they want to, Nate. They can be as shady as they like -- laws don't apply to them."

"True, but if they're working with the bugs against the Council...that's like having the President be a traitor -- Judges have so much power, imagine the damage..." Nate trailed off.

"So let's find another clue so we can report it? To your Federation, or maybe just to my mother. My mother will have everybody executed if she finds out there was a conspiracy to kidnap me from within." Ana prompted.