All That Glitters Ch. 10

"The Delilah was the second ship. It is named after the old Terran story of Samson and Delilah. Basically, Samson loved Delilah and followed her everywhere. So, when you see the Delilah, you know that Samson is not far away," she said with a cheeky smile.

"The third ship in the line is named 'The Valour'. Fiona, you may have noted a symbol under the name?" she asked.

"Yes, it looks like the Civilian Cross of Valour," she responded.

"It is. The ship's names reflect the person who owns them. The Princess is something you quoted to me, reflecting on Annette being 'as close to royalty as many of us will get'," she smiled as she remembered the quote.

Once again Fiona blushed, but Liea just giggled. "Antoine Liramor agrees with the name. He thought it was hilarious and refused to allow Annette to change it," Liea winked to the crowd, who all laughed as they watched Annette blushing.

"The Delilah is my ship, reflecting the old story.

"The Valour though belongs to someone who has achieved that status."

Liea picked up a scroll and presented it to a suddenly nervous Fiona.

"I know that you are rich from working with the Liramor Mining Corporation, but I don't think you could afford to buy this vessel. However, I do believe you can well afford the annual running costs for her," Liea said with a smile.

Fiona opened the scroll and gasped as she read it through. She looked up at Liea and felt as the scroll was whisked out of her fingers. She was about to protest to Liea when Annette swooped down and kissed her on both cheeks, whispering "accept it graciously" into her ear as she finished the second kiss.

A stunned Fiona wavered on suddenly unsteady feet and was unceremoniously pulled into a hug by Liea, as the scroll made its way around the group.

"My own ship?" Fiona asked in a whisper. Watching as Liea nodded yes to her. "Why?" She asked.

"You were kind to me when I most needed it immediately after my good fortune hit me. You literally gave me the clothes out of your closet for an evening on Liramor One. You helped direct me and guide me and didn't laugh at me when I made mistakes. And you gave me into the care of Annette, who has become such a good friend.

"If anyone deserves a ship named 'The Valour' it is you. You have earned it in so many ways. We'll go look at it in a moment, but there is something else we need to do first," Liea said getting a shaky Fiona to sit again.

"The fourth ship in the Princess line is 'The Valiant'. I think you can all surmise who that ship belongs to," Liea said reaching for the last scroll.

Everyone turned to Raymond. Liea beckoned him to approach, passing the scroll to Annette. "You actually, 'paid' for this ship, even if it is a gift from Liea. You earned it with the new generators. Liramor Holdings will make a fortune from them, as will the partnership of Clark and Samson," Annette said passing him the scroll.

Raymond opened it to see that it was a certificate of space worthiness with permission to hire a crew and run the ship as a private yacht with himself listed as the owner. It had the signatures and seals of both Pallanders Shipyards and the Inspector General for Commercial Shipping -- Liramor Prime, embossed at the bottom.

"I think we have selected a reasonably good crew for your ships, however, you are now the owners and if you want to change them, it will be up to you," Annette said to Fiona and Raymond.

"Now, let's go take a look at your ships," she smiled and moved toward the exit hatch.

Fiona got one more surprise as she entered her ship. Fayad Ouihya was proudly waiting for her. He had been sent back to Liramor-23 with expressed instructions to work on his French for the next three months. Since the crew of Fiona's ship was hired from Liramor Prime, he had plenty of help to learn the language.

It was more than two hours later before the inspections of the new ships were completed, all the owners meeting at the airlock to bay twelve.

"There is one last thing that needs to be taken care of before Annette and I leave," Liea stated. "The ships need to be formally named. We waited for that until all of owners were present, though it should have been done at Pallanders."

"I can arrange that, say tomorrow afternoon?" Henadi spoke up immediately. This was her place to speak for her principle. She got a quick nod from Fiona.

"Regardless of the fact that you now own your own ship, Capt. Clark, you may not leave this platform without my prior consent," Fiona quipped to him with a smile that he returned.

"For the next couple of months, I will agree to that order, Commodore," he said with a bow.

The group headed back to the command deck and conference room one. There was still much to complete before the end of the day, and Henadi now had the additional task of finding space onboard the platform for the two yachts crews.

Liramor Space Port, Liramor Prime, Liramor System, Thirty Light Years from Terra

Celia Cordon made it through the medical screening at the space port and moved to collect her baggage. Like many space workers, she travelled light with the exception of her personal EVA work suit, which travelled in its own specialized container.

She moved up to customs and presented her comp for the ID check.

"Purpose of visit?" the customs officer asked.

"Work. I'm going to be working for Liramor Mining Corporation," she told him, presenting her papers.

The officer looked them over, copying both documents into his station. A notice came up under her name, which indicated that she was to proceed to LMC HQ with 'hidden' escort. The officer looked around and saw a man he knew moving toward the door Corden would exit into the space port proper.

"Alright, citizen. You will need to go to exit thirty, that is usually were the LMC Transports will be waiting. Make sure to take the transport marked LMC HQ. My board says it will leave in ten minutes, so you will have to move along," he told her, clearing her for entry.

Corden grabbed her bags and quickly headed to the custom's exit and into the space port. There was another person there with an obvious EVA suit container looking curiously at his wrist, snapping at it a couple of times before cursing in a language she didn't understand.

"Problem?" she asked.

"Yeah, my comp is not syncing with the local feed and I need to find out where exit thirty is," he told her.

"LMC?" she asked.

"You too?" he returned with a smile.

Corden noted by his hair that he was from Hollander's World. She checked her comp and found it was syncing, but she expected no less, as it was a much better model than most even if it didn't look it.

"You can follow me but keep up. We don't have a lot of time," she told the man. "I'm Celia Corden," she introduced herself as she moved towards their exit.

"Meteryea," he told her. "I'm from Hollander's World, in case you didn't know," he said with a smile.

"I noticed. I thought the names of all people from Hollander's World ended in YA?" she asked curiously.

Meteryea laughed. "The names of women end in YA, the names of men end in YEA," he told her with a smile. It is the same as Miss. or Mr. in Standard," he told her.

"What do they call married men and women on your home world?" she asked curiously.

"We have no formal marriages on Hollander's World. But our people will know instinctively if one has entered into a fixed pair bond," he told her, not elaborating.

The two chatted casually as they moved swiftly to the exit and found the transport marked LMC HQ.

The conductor placed their large EVA containers under the transport after taking their names. He pointed out their assigned seats and waited for them to sit before closing the door.

The transport's seats were an improvement on the space transporter that she had just left so Corden settled back and placed her hands on the comfortable armrests. A snick of cold metal surprised her as she suddenly found herself restrained at wrists and ankles.

"Relax Ms. Corden, or whatever your name really is. It's a forty-minute ride to Liramor Holdings HQ where we are actually headed," Meteryea told her calmly. "My name really is Meteryea, but I'm not a miner. I'm part of security at Liramor Holdings, and you are temporarily under arrest until we can formally identify who the hell you are."

And with that, Meteryea closed his eyes and sat back in his seat as the transport lifted and headed to its destination.

Security Cell, Liramor Holdings HQ, Liramor Prime, Liramor System

Forty-five minutes later, the transport stopped by the security entrance in the basement of Liramor Holdings HQ. Corden had been plotting how she would escape throughout the trip, all her thoughts going for naught when the side of the transport opened and the conductor pulled four bolts on the floor, releasing her seat pair. A forklift lifted both seats out of the transport and placed it on an anti-grav float. The staff unlocked the second seat and fixed hers to the float.

"O," Meteryea said, nodding to a woman holding a stun rod.

"Any problems?" she asked of him.

"Nah. Smoothest capture I ever made. Wish they all went like this," he told her with a smile.

"K. You can grab a coffee as you won't be allowed into observation room until miss nibs here is processed," the woman called O told him.

"Miss Corden," the woman said with steel in her voice. "You can refer to me as 'O'. That is all you will get until such time as you've been 'interviewed'. I am part of Liramor Holdings Security and am in control of your processing and the interview process.

"If you cooperate, we will have no problems. If you don't," here she pressed the button on the stun rod and it snapped to life briefly, making an unspoken threat to the bound woman.

"It isn't our intent to harm you, just to find out who you really are. It would be best if you complied with all our requests. If in fact you are innocent of anything, you will still have the opportunity to work for us. We wouldn't want you pissed off at us before you even officially started working with us. Cooperation is best," she finished, once again putting steel in her voice.

The float was moved into an interview room with two small tables, one directly in front of an observation window that was currently showing a female observer watching over the process from the other room.

Four other women were in the interview room as her chair was lifted from the float and secured to the floor on the far side of the table. One of the women stepped in front of her. The way she moved set the hackles up on the back of her neck. This woman moved with the grace of a predator. Her movements screamed professional.

"I am Analisa, and I am a trained bodyguard," she told her without preamble. "I'm an ex-Marine who has seen combat action in the War, including hand-to-hand. I've been working as a bodyguard since, under some very trying situations.

"Why a bodyguard, you ask?" Analisa asked of her. Corden didn't need to ask, she knew way the woman was there, but she knew the woman would elaborate. "It's simple really. Liramor Holdings doesn't want to have you pressing charges against them if you should get hurt in this interview. O, here, can only use her stun rod on you if you do something against her or the three technicians now in this room.

"If you really are a bad person, that might be too late. I, on the other hand, can act before someone gets hurt. It will be just you and me," the woman finished, stepping back two meters. Corden wasn't fooled, the woman was still well within reach if the she wanted to act.

Two technicians stooped down and removed her boots and socks, placing them on the other table where the third tech began to wave a wand over them, searching for anything in or on the boots and socks.

The two ladies placed insulated socks on her feet. That wasn't what Corden was expecting. Bare feet on the cold floor was usually the order of the day for an interrogation!

The ladies stepped back and the locks over her wrists opened. Corden tensed, waiting for her ankles to be freed. As soon as she began to tense, Analisa moved. With incredible speed, she crossed the distance between them and jammed her thumb into a nerve pressure point under her chin. Blinding pain ran through Corden's head.

"Let's not do anything stupid now, OK," she hissed at Corden, releasing her and stepping back.

It took a moment for the memory of the pain to recede, leaving Corden shocked first at how blazingly fast Analisa had moved, secondly that she had no idea of the existence of a nerve pressure point in that location. If she survived this on good terms with the woman, she wanted to learn from her!

"Stand up, Ms. Corden, and place your hands on the top of your head," O ordered.

Corden complied, her feet still locked into the chair.

The two techs ran wands over her wrist and nodded to O.

"Please remove your comp and hand it to the techs. If you are legitimate, we don't need the device doing something that might hurt someone," O said, legitimate indicating that Corden was part of a government organization, which she was.

Corden removed the comp and passed it to the tech at the table, who placed it on a scanner and began going through the data on it or attempting to. She knew her comp was protected with military-grade encryption. It was unlikely that the tech would get into it.

"This next part is not going to be comfortable for you," O said, "You will remove your jumpsuit, please," O ordered firmly.

The restraints at her ankle released themselves and Corden quietly complied with the request, handing the jumpsuit to the techs who immediately began to scan it and feel through the cloth for hidden items.

"I know this is embarrassing, but we are all women here. Please remove your bra and panties," O ordered. Once again, Corden slowly complied.

Now naked, she was ordered to place her hands on her head and face the wall. The techs scanned her body and noted two locations that showed up on their screens. They indicated this to O.

Corden had decided that it was the time to act. She was naked, so they wouldn't expect her to flee. She thought that they had been sufficiently lulled into complacency by her relative inaction and compliance, so now was the time to act.

She noted the location of the three techs and O, however, just before she decided to spring into action, a pair of security cuffs clamped onto one of her wrists and it was quickly pulled behind her back as she was roughly pushed into the wall. Her other hand was pulled back and her arms were shackled together behind her, swiftly and with little fuss despite Corden's supposed superior training!

Shit! She thought. She hadn't even heard Analisa move, nor noted her presence behind her. This person needs to train our people, she mused.

She was brought over to the table and told to lay her upper body down on it and spread her legs.

"I've already been medically probed at the space port!" Corden complained.

"Sorry, Corden," O spoke, leaving the impression that she really wasn't sorry. "If you are legitimate, you know the drill, if you are not, you probably know the drill as well," she quipped.

She heard the snap of surgical gloves behind her and fingers probed her vagina and anus. At least they used lube, she thought gratefully.

They cleaned her up and someone slipped a pair of paper panties up her legs to cover her. Her arms were freed, and someone pushed a button on the wall to open a small toilette.

"You will be given a jumpsuit, our colours unfortunately, once you have used the toilette. The unit has sensors that will tell us if you leave anything behind, or if anything unexpected goes into the system before it automatically flushes. Please be brief, we need to commence the interview," O said.

Corden quickly did her business and cleaned up, stepping back into the room where she was presented a bright orange jumpsuit with a large black P on the back.

"Is this necessary?" she asked.

"Unless you wish to conduct the interview half naked, yes," O confirmed.

Corden quickly dressed and was once again seated and restrained in the chair.

One of the techs ran a different scanner over her left arm changing settings on it until it beeped.

"IPPF," the tech said to O.

O looked into the observation room and ordered the monitor there to call the Division Head. The observer nodded and the window mirrored, showing only those in the interview room. The techs continued to work on her clothes and comp.

O sat on the other side of the table. "Do you wish to make a statement before your superior arrives?" she asked of Corden.

"I'll wait," she replied.

Damn, this group is very professional. The IPPF can learn from them, Corden thought.

Thirty minutes later, a distinguished looking gentleman and woman, both in expensive business suits, walked in. O immediately stood up smiled and nodded to the man.

The woman gave Corden a look of frustration.

"Papa seven three Echo," Corden said before the woman could ask anything.

"Can we release her?" she asked of the gentleman.

"Not until we find out who she is and what her purpose is on Liramor-23," the man said. "Until you confirm without a doubt, that she is one of yours and provide us with an explanation, she will remain our 'guest'," he replied calmly but with a definite cut of authority to his voice.

The woman went over to the comp at the tech's table and did something at her wrist before passing her own comp over Corden's. The two comps synched, and the woman nodded turning back to Corden.

"I am Maria Sanger, Director of Operations IPPF on Liramor Prime," she stated to Corden, showing the sigil on her comp. "Identification, rank, mission statement," she snapped.

"Carolyn Justine, Special Operations Officer Level Eight, Terran Division Six. My mission statement comes from the Senate," she told the director.

"From Senator Wasim Andjuran?" the man asked. Surprised, Justine nodded.

"I am Antoine Liramor, President and CEO of Liramor Holdings. What do you know about Andjuran?" he asked her, the unexpected question making her feel suddenly uneasy.

"He is an influential senator who has requested aid from Division Six from time to time. I have done a half dozen operations for him, mostly seeking information on the locations and activities of suspected criminal's activities against the Union," she stated.

"What did you do with the information?" Sanger asked.

"I sent a report to the senator and gave a copy to my superior," Justine replied.

"That would be Director Jane Higgins?" Sanger asked.

"Head of Division Six, but my immediate superior is Capt. Langen, Commander Spec Ops Group Three," Justine told them.

"Do you have a copy of those statements?" Sanger asked.

"Of course not!" Justine replied, derision in her voice. "That would be against protocol."

"Do you remember the information that you provided to your superior?" Sanger returned, her voice suddenly hardening.

Justine was suddenly unsure of the situation, particularly since she was still restrained in the chair.

"I could probably provide you with a synopsis," she hesitantly told the director.

"Senator Andjuran is a rather influential senator for someone with only two years of experience in the senate," Antoine stated. "Does he seem to you the kind of man who presses the flesh and makes time for people, even his fellow senators?" he asked of Justine.

"What is this about, Director?" Justine asked of her boss.

"Do you know the story of the Battle of Liramor-23?" she asked of her subordinate. Justine shook her head.

"It took place only a few weeks ago. Fourteen pirate ships destroyed, over eight hundred Union citizens held as slaves rescued, and a bonanza of intelligence for the Union, all with no loss of life to Union forces or the workers on Liramor-23. It's a very significant victory, yet very few people have heard about it. Why would that be?" Sanger asked of Justine, who ventured nothing.