The Siren Scent Pt. 02

He tapped the comm switch on his suit. "All Marines on alert. Prepare for attempted infiltration: two men, both armed. Shoot on sight -- take no prisoners."

"Roger that, Sir," came the response. "All Marines . . . what the hell!"

There was a burst of static and the comms went dead. Outside there was a commotion accompanied by multiple weapons firing and several explosions. Gunderson kept trying to raise anyone on the comms, frantic to find out what was happening. Abruptly the shooting stopped. There was a brief silence; then an explosion blew a hole in one side of the barn.

As the horses reared and neighed in fear, a giant green figure almost eight feet tall strode through the hole. In addition to his size, the other distinguishing aspects of the creature were its long, teeth-filled muzzle and scale-covered skin. "A Balagan!" Lamia gasped.

"Hafnar!" Gunderson shouted, "What are you doing here? And what have you done to my soldiers?"

The Balagan made a harsh sound that Lamia thought might have been a laugh. "Those were soldiers? They hardly put up a fight. If those were your fighting men, we should have invaded Terra long ago."

Then the giant's tone changed. "As for why I am here, you gave me no choice. Your repeated incompetence has destroyed any value our arrangement might have produced. Your little scheme to drive a wedge between the Salicians and the Federation failed completely. Now your efforts to cover up your involvement have obviously also failed."

"No, Hafnar, you've got it wrong. These are two of the people who bungled the Salician scheme, and the other two are near. We'll have all the loose ends wound up by today, I swear."

The Balagan shook his head. "It is quite obvious, Gunderson, that you are the loose end. That's why I ventured down to your god-forsaken planet: to clean up your mess -- and you too."

He took a menacing stride toward Gunderson, who squeaked in terror before raising his pistol and firing at the advancing Balagan. The electrical pulse hit the giant in the chest without any apparent effect. Grunting contemptuously, Hafnar backhanded Gunderson like swatting a fly. The Intelligence Director flew through the air and crashed against one wall of the barn. The blow was sufficient to crack the spacesuit helmet, and the hiss of escaping air played over the crumpled body.

During the confrontation, Lamia had been frantically working at her bonds and had finally loosened them enough to slip free. She began to edge toward the hole in the wall, but Hafnar spotted her motion and easily cut off her escape. "So," he grunted, "you're to blame for Gunderson's failure. What are you, some sort of courtesan?"

She took a deep breath. "No, I'm a bodyguard."

The creature made that laughing sound again. "O-ho, a bodyguard. You don't look very fearsome to me."

If I'm going to die, I might as well go down fighting, she thought. "Why don't we just find out, lizard man?" she jeered at him.

"A challenge! Very well, but my bet is you don't last two minutes."

"We'll see," she said, and suddenly darted toward him, hoping to catch him off guard. At the last moment before colliding with him, she leapt to one side, striking the side of his head with her fist. Nothing happened.

Hafnar turned to face her. "You're very weak, but at least you have courage. Of course, courage only gets you killed more quickly." With that he shot a large green paw at her, hoping to grab an arm. She easily evaded his move, but instead of backing away, she leapt forward and drove her foot against his knee. Again, nothing happened, but this time his reflexive swipe caught her shoulder and knocked her sprawling. She scrambled to her feet before he could follow, but her shoulder was sore and her breathing accelerated.

She danced around him, thinking frantically. He's so big and so strong. I'm not sure I could throw him if he charged me. My only advantage is my speed. That's what I need to use.

Without hesitation she began running at him at full speed. Just as he reached out to grapple with her, she somersaulted into the air, bringing her flying heel down on his skull with all her force. The big saurian staggered but quickly recovered, seemingly unharmed.

She had angered him, though, because now he began to stalk her, making little feints followed by bull rushes in an attempt to grab and crush her. She was able to avoid him, but only at the cost of significant energy. If I don't come up with something fast, he's going to wear me down and then it will all be over.

One of the horses neighed, catching her attention. If I could free one of the horses, maybe I could get away. But a glance told her both horses were tied in their stalls. I'd never get one free in time. Still . . . A desperate plan took shape in her mind.

Drawing on all her remaining courage, she began to scamper around the Balagan, taunting him to make him angry. After several more forays, she managed to maneuver him where she wanted him. Then, thinking one last time about Colin, she started trotting toward the saurian again.

This time Hafnar was ready, setting his feet wide and keeping his torso high so he could intercept her as she flew over his head. But instead of another flying somersault, at the last moment Lamia dove between his legs. When she hit the floor, she kept going, scrambling into the stall between the legs of the big bay.

The Balagan roared in frustration and whirled around, crouching to seize the flailing legs of his pesky opponent. As he did so, the unfamiliar scent terrified the big horse, and it lashed out with its hind legs, catching the alien full in the face. Steel shoes driven by the kinetic energy generated by a half-ton horse easily crushed the heavy skull, and Hafnar was dead before he landed on the floor of the barn, never knowing what had hit him.

Desperately trying to calm the big bay before it trampled her, Lamia scrambled to her feet and stroked its neck, using the words she recalled from her days at the stables on Salicia. When she'd succeeded, she backed out of the stall to have a look at Hafnar's body. As she stared at the gory mess, a labored voice startled her. To her horror, she looked up to see Gunderson struggling to stand. His STEP pistol was aimed at her.

"Well done, Lamia, you just saved my life. Too bad it won't save your own."

"It's over, Gunderson, drop it!" came a female voice, and Lamia spotted Kayla crouched in a shooting position, pointing her own STEP pistol at the man.

He glanced at her and laughed. "You never learn, do you. That thing won't work against my suit."

"Full power," she snarled. "Let's see."

Gunderson whirled to fire at her, but he was no match for the speed of the trained assassin. She pulled the trigger and the gun strobed one gigajoule of electrical energy that struck the chest of the Intelligence Chief and melted a hole in his suit. Instantly, the blood in his heart turned to steam and exploded with a clap of thunder, killing Gunderson and stunning both women.

When they managed to regain their senses, they rushed to each other and embraced, both crying with relief that they'd survived. They turned to leave, and as they walked past the blood-filled suit that contained what was left of Gunderson, Kayla held up her pistol and carefully adjusted the setting. "I guess that's why they tell you never to use full power," she said dryly.

Confrontation in Custody

Their relief faded quickly when they stepped outside. Awaiting them was another squad of Fleet Marines, their guns trained on the two women. Helpless to resist, Kayla and Lamia dropped their weapons and slowly raised their hands. As their hands were being secured, the two spotted Diego and Colin also in custody. In short order the four companions were bundled into a transporter that set out for Intelligence headquarters. Apparently, the Marines had been warned of their captives' capabilities, because all four were secured in a separate compartment away from the soldiers.

"Babe, I'm so sorry we let you down," Colin apologized. "We landed the Gyrfalcon in a ravine for cover, then headed for the barn. When we got there, we saw it was surrounded by a squad of marines. We were trying to figure out how to get past them when that damned Balagan appeared out of nowhere."

"One minute we were trying to come up with a plan," Diego picked up the account, "the next minute all hell broke loose. Those marines were heavily armed and well trained, but that saurian cut through them like a field of wheat. All we could do was hug the ground and try to keep out of the line of fire. Once it was all over, the big green guy blew a hole in the wall and went inside. We checked on the marines, but there was nothing we could do for them, so we headed for the barn. But before we could do anything, the second squad showed up and took us captive."

Lamia quickly related the confrontation inside the barn, and Colin shuddered at the thought of his wife having to take on the Balagan bare-handed. When Diego heard about the deal Gunderson had made with the alien, he was outraged. "I can't believe that Gunderson would sell out his own species like that," he snorted furiously. "It sounds like he'd been working with the Balagans for a long time to undermine the Confederation."

"Well, he won't be committing treason anymore," Kayla said. "There's nothing left of him but tomato paste in his space suit."

Then another thought hit Diego. "Please tell me you recorded all that," he implored, and Lamia smiled. Patting the golden studs in her earlobes, she nodded, "I should have every word and every action. I don't think there'll be any argument about what happened."

"That's great, Babe," Colin told his wife. "Once Intelligence learns what Gunderson was up to, they'll have to wipe our records clean. Maybe, just maybe, all this running and hiding can come to an end."

When they reached headquarters, the four were separated and put in holding rooms. After Lamia told their captors about it, the recording device was taken for review and assessment. No one spoke to the prisoners except for the Marine sergeant who was escorting Lamia. "Ma'am, my hats off to you," he told her. "You're the only person I know who's ever survived unarmed combat with a Balagan."

Several hours later, as Colin sat in the small room alternating between apprehension and boredom, the door abruptly swung open. A uniformed female Intelligence officer strode into the room, and Colin had to stifle a gasp when he recognized her. It's Queen Sheba, from back at the Academy!, he realized.

If the young woman recognized him, she gave no sign of it. Instead, she sat a recording device down on the table between them and proceeded to lead Colin through a narration of everything that had happened. As he answered her questions, he couldn't help remembering their one brief interlude back at the Academy. Maybe it's a good thing she doesn't remember me, he decided, and made no reference to what had happened so long ago.

When the interrogation was finished, she stood and thanked him for his cooperation. "I've been authorized to inform you that we'll be comparing your account with those of your companions. After that has been completed, we'll consider the next steps in handling your case. You'll all be kept here at least overnight."

With that short and somewhat foreboding conclusion, she turned and left. He checked and was not surprised to find that the door had locked behind her. Sometime later, someone brought a boxed meal which he consumed quickly but without much enjoyment. Then it was back to the boredom.

He was lounging on the spartan bed later that evening when he was startled to see the door open and Lieutenant Bathsheba enter. She stepped in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest. "Mr. O'Malley, everything you've told me today is consistent with what your colleagues have said and what our own investigation has revealed. That's the good news. Unfortunately, I have bad news about your wife."

"What do you mean?" Colin exploded.

"I'm sorry, but the Salician government has raised questions about Lamia's citizenship. As you and she have both confirmed, she left Salicia without appropriate authorization. To be blunt, the Salicians want her back."

"This is insane," Colin gasped. "We have free travel within the Confederation -- the Salicians can't legally hold her. Isn't there something you people can do?"

Sheba began to pace around the room, then stopped suddenly. An odd expression came over her face. "Actually, there is something you can do to help your wife's case."

Then, to Colin's amazement, she reached up to the button at the neck of her uniform jacket. When she squeezed it, the fastenings retracted, and Colin saw she wore nothing underneath but a black lace bra. Calmly she did the same thing for the clasp at the hip of her skirt, and the material slid down her legs, revealing a black thong and hold-up stockings. Stepping out of the skirt, she strode over to Colin's bed and stood in front of him, her hands on her hips.

"If you want the Confederation to intervene, you're going to have to take decisive action, just like you did back when we were cadets."

She hasn't forgotten, he realized. "But I'm married now," he protested.

"If you don't want your wife sequestered on Salicia for the next decade, I suggest you forget your marital status, at least temporarily."

You little vixen, he thought, this is coercion. But you hold all the power, don't you.

He made up his mind. Rising from the bed, he looked down on her. "Is this what you want, baby girl?" he asked sternly.

The transformation that came over Sheba was as striking as it was sudden. The caramel-skinned woman's haughty expression vanished, to be replaced by a look of total submission. She sank to her knees and stared up at him with wide eyes. "Oh, yes, Daddy, this is what I want, what I need. All this time I haven't been able to forget about that night with you at the Academy. I've been hoping for a chance to be with you one more time. Please, Daddy, please, give me what I crave so bad."

Wordlessly he held out his hands and pulled her to her feet. Then he reached around to unclasp her bra. As the cups fell away, he saw that her ample breasts had retained their perfect shape. Fascinated, he reached to touch them, and when the nipples instantly grew erect, he smiled. When he tweaked them, a shudder ran through the woman's body.

"Don't move," he commanded, then went down on one knee in front of her. Grasping her thong at the waist, he slowly slid it down her thighs and off her feet. The scent of a highly aroused woman flowed over him, and he suddenly remembered the same fragrance in her room that night at the Academy.

She'd shaved her vaginal hair, he saw, and he reached out to draw his finger between her lower lips. His fingertip came back wet from the free-flowing moisture he found there. She gasped and began to pant. He leaned forward and licked her clitoris, which was already protruding from its hood. This time she squealed.

She couldn't be more ready, he decided.

Taking her shoulders, he turned her around to his bed, but when he tried to lay her down on her back, she resisted. "No, Daddy," she begged, "not like that, the other way. Please, Daddy, like before."

He released her and she quickly rolled over on her stomach, then brought her knees up to present her magnificent bottom to him. "Take it, Daddy, it's all yours," she whispered. Then she pointed at her purse. "In there, Daddy, hurry." She gave him an apologetic look. "It's just that you're so big."

He leaned over and reached inside the bag. Immediately his fingers found the tube of personal lubricant. He smiled to himself, then squeezed the oily lotion onto his penis, which was already firmly erect. Once again he placed himself behind the young woman, and when his hands gripped her hips, she started to moan. When he placed his penis in position, she began to beg, "Yes, Daddy, do it now. Put it in my ass and fuck me until I go crazy."

Even with the lubrication he didn't want to hurt Sheba, so he took his time, working the head into her ring as she crooned her desire. Then he gave a short thrust, penetrating only an inch. When she showed no signs of discomfort, he repeated the action, penetrating even deeper. In no time he was fully embedded.

She turned her head to one side to look back at him. "Now, Daddy, do it: fuck my ass!"

Without hesitation he began to make long thrusts, driving his penis in to the hilt, then withdrawing only to repeat the process. The woman greeted each stroke with a cry that sounded pained but he quickly realized was actually pleasure. Pleasurable sensations built up quickly within him, and soon he was nothing more than an alpha-male rutting with the bitch he had mounted.

His pounding became so forceful that she collapsed under his assault, falling prone on the mattress pad. Instead of pausing he shoved her legs apart and began to thrust ever harder. As he did so, she began to chant, "Yes, Daddy, yes, Daddy, yes, yes, Daddy, Daddy, DADDY!" She screamed her climax, and two powerful strokes later he reached his own peak. Then he collapsed on top of the young officer.

After several minutes he rolled off of her, and she quickly jumped up and began to dress. When she was presentable, she bent down and kissed him sweetly. "Thank you, Daddy. I'll never forget that." Then she rose and her formal persona reappeared. "I think I can guarantee you that your wife won't have to worry about any Salician claims on her citizenship," she told him solemnly as she walked to the door. But at the last moment she turned. In a child's voice she added, "I hope I see you again, Daddy." Then she walked out the door, leaving Colin to wonder whether that was a tear he'd spotted on her cheek.

Although his session with Sheba had tired him, it took a long time for him to fall asleep. He couldn't help feeling guilty about cheating on his wife. What else could I do? he rationalized. Yet he couldn't ignore how much he'd enjoyed the session with his old schoolmate.

The more he thought about Sheba, the more anxious he became. It bothered him to realize just how long-lasting the impact of exposure to his hormones was. For Sheba to want a repeat so long after their initial contact was intimidating. What if she doesn't honor her promise? If she's intent on keeping me here, I don't know what I can do. We're pretty much at the mercy of the Intelligence Service now. If they say Lamia has to go back to Salicia, how can I stop it?

He felt as though he had only just fallen asleep when the door opened and another tasteless meal was placed on his table. Soon after he'd finished eating, a guard came to collect him. "You're all meeting with the Deputy Director," he was informed.

As they walked down the corridor, Colin was excited about seeing his friends again and nervous about seeing his wife. I just hope Lamia never finds out what happened last night, he wished fervently.

How Do You Solve a Problem Like Lamia?

He was led into a large conference room, where he found the others waiting for him. After hugs and handshakes were exchanged, the four of them were seated. An officer who carried herself with an air of authority entered and strode to the head of the room. "I am Deputy Director Xiu," she began. "The four of you," she gestured, "represent a significant problem for Fleet Intelligence. To begin with, you two (she pointed at Torres and O'Malley) undertook aillegal mission on Salicia. As we've learned, however, you were operating under direct orders that originated with the late, unlamented Director Gunderson. Had you refused, he would undoubtedly have had you arrested for mutiny and executed. Had you succeeded, you would likely have sparked a rift between Salicia and the Terran Confederation. We now know that was Gunderson's intent, in collusion with the Balagans. On the other hand, had you succeeded, it seems likely that you would have been arrested and convicted of being conspirators in a treasonous act, also leading to a summary execution.