Wild Space Pt. 04

When he was ready, she leaned over his prone body, repeatedly slapping the rosy head of his cock against her lips, muttering a low "mmm, mmm" as she did so, as if simply the taste of him was too delicious not to remark upon. He cursed softly and dug his fingers into the soft skin of her back, avoiding her scars. Taking that for a job well done so far, she took him in her mouth, pursing her plump lips so she glided right along the eager shaft fully, and just as eagerly went to work with her hand and tongue..

Within a few minutes he was hissing and then another minute he was urgently tapping her back, but she didn't stop. Finally he took a handful of her hair and pulled her away, his penis leaving her mouth with a characteristic, mouthy pop.

She knew what she wanted and hoped that he had been told what to do and how to do it. Edge splayed on her back, took a foot in each of her hands, and lifted her legs high. To her delight he immediately planted a hand on either side of her shoulders, positioned himself and authoritatively slipped his still glistening cock into the sensitive flesh sheath between her legs. His untrimmed thatch was soft against her own black stubble down there, and when he set to fucking her slow and hard she loved how his pubic hair turned nice and wet from her accumulated juices.

Her flexibility allowed him to go deeply as he could into her, and as he gradually ramped up his pace and the length of his stroke she stared deep into his kindly blue eyes. He smiled down at her and she kissed his smile, sweat and all.

"I love you," She whispered up at him, and her words were gasps as he railed her harder and harder. "I love you so much my darling, that's it, baby, please don't stop."

"I love you too, so much, you feel amazing, you're so good, your pussy is going to make me-" His words were strangled off as he kissed her hard, lovingly, and the sounds he made against her lips were as sweet as anything she had ever heard.

When he'd spent himself inside of her, she clung to him, and when he wanted to roll aways clung to him harder still. So he relaxed for a few minutes, until Edge could feel his mood having changed, even in the afterglow of his orgasm.

"I have to..."

"I know," She said in the same voice she had used to greet him. "Go on. I'll see you later."

"Yeah," The man said with a hint of a quizzical tone, and in a moment he was off of the bed, gathering up his clothes. She could only do the same, but reluctantly, slowly.

He was dressed long before her, and awkwardly stood by with one arm crossing the other at the elbow, waiting.

"Thanks for all that," He said. "I had fu-"

"No need to thank me," She said quickly as she poked a foot into her pants.

"No, I know, but this was still fun. The whole...experience. But why do you, of all people, need it?"

"I have to go," Embarrassed, she stuffed the shirt over her head and heard him cry out as she almost jogged away with her boots in her hand, crossing over the threshold of the airlock, the hatch automatically closing behind her. Her feet were carrying her to the cockpit automatically.

Edge found the vibrant she kept in the dash storage, cracked and whacked. Four sniffs this time. But try as she might, she couldn't rid herself of the slightly disgusted and confused look he'd given her as she had left him. She hated him for that, but could only hate herself even more.

******************************

The Barrens Rangers were based out of a depleted asteroid mine. It wasn't pretty, but it had been an easy transition for them, and a fine location to have as their headquarters. When the Rangers started picking up cases and protecting civilians that the Capital Systems didn't bother with they had needed a home. A bankrupt mining consortium provided the answer, and a central facility for them to take over with minimum cost. The Rangers were nothing if not cheap.

But that's not our fault, Sita thought as she left the armory. Without the trademark chest armor, she seemed to be wearing an old Capital Navy battle suit, with only the badge over her heart, the cap on her head and the cudgel at her waist to mark her as a Ranger. Her uniform, such as it was, wasn't dirty or sweat stained, but she felt the need for a shower anyway.

The boys in the lab had just gotten the body from the Pink Lady, and early scuttlebutt said that it was straightforward enough that they'd have something in a day or two at most. Perversely, Sita wished they'd take a bit longer. She wasn't eager to see a dead body again. Like a lot of new experiences it wasn't exactly welcome.

When she had seen the body laying on the deck after opening the recycle unit Sita had nearly vomited, but managed to keep her composure. For the most part. Tears had come reflexively to her eyes and she'd turned away, angry and disgusted.

Yomp was an old hand, however. "Guess you humans are bad for an environment."

"What?" Sita had asked, eyes closed tight.

"Non-recyclable. Never mind."

She entered the women's locker room, went to and opened her locker with her thumb print. Her hygiene kit was fluorescent orange, a hand me down from a sister, but one of her oldest and most prized possessions. She gathered it up and an extra fluffy towel she kept at work. She had dried off with a Rangers issued towel before and then vowed to never make that mistake again. Her uniform went into the laundry unit and she padded naked into the showers.

The towels may have been scratchy but the showers had soothingly punishing water pressure and were very hot. When the water splashed onto her face, Sita felt the last vestiges of the corpse leave her mind, and sighed pleasurably. She gathered her breasts in her hands, flicked her index fingers over each nipple and luxuriated in the thrill of doing so in the open. Then she heard voices and grabbed her soap, squirting a bright blue worm of it into her palm.

"Sita?" Someone said, and she turned.

"Yeah? Hey, Meri."

"Hey," A leggy, coltish black woman, Meri had small breasts and a slender build, and with her long legs she towered over Sita by quite a bit. The height,build and skin color differences were such that when they'd gone through training together a Montellan who wasn't very accustomed to humans had asked them both how they could even be the same species. Both women had experienced tall and short jokes throughout their lives, but that one had been the funniest.

"I ran into Yomp outside. He wants you to meet him at the Cloud Nine Qwik Dine when you're done," Meri said over the roar of the water. She slid into the shower opposite of her and began to soap up herself. "I'd have invited him in here to tell you himself as a joke but I don't think his old heart could have taken it."

"Speaking of jokes, I'm looking at your naked body now and it's enough to stop my heart," Sita said. "And not in a romantic way."

"Funny, rookie, really funny." The black woman stuck her tongue out and then turned away and resumed her shower.

The Rangers started as a band of traders whose livelihoods had been disrupted too many times. They were sick to death of the rampant piracy in their tiny corner of the Barrens, and the Capital Navy's indifference towards it. The Navy ruthlessly punished the big time pirate gangs, smugglers and so forth when they caught, but did little to protect the civilians on the fringes of their space while also forbidding them to heavily arm themselves.

Enough got to be enough, and the traders found common cause instead of competition. They circumvented the weapons regulations by strength of numbers, flying their cargo loops in pairs, then a standard four vessels, just like the Capital Navy did their patrols. They shortly found that four freighters could not profit from a single cargo run, and began taking turns escorting one another. In time, those traders with more powerful ships, the faster and stronger and more aggressive among them, tended to escort others and receive payment for doing so more than running freight itself. They all didn't entirely stop losing freight or ships, but it did solve things. For a long but limited while.

With the increased safety, commerce in the area soared, but the majority of the trade was in ores, minerals, and lucrative gemstones. One could only gouge and scratch at the asteroids, moons and planets so much until it all dried up. When the mines dried up, the traders, as traders tend to do, left to pursue their business elsewhere. The big mining companies were the next, closing delinquent facilities. But civilians still lived on the boomtown asteroids and planets, and the piracy in the area went from stealing ore to stealing people.

Sita shuddered at the memory. Her great great grandfather had escaped slavery to make a life for her family, but he was one of the lucky ones. More and more people in this part of the Barrens were carried off to parts unknown, to work or to give their bodies to strange peoples in other parts of space. Some were even sold directly to the Capital Systems, who unknowingly or uncaringly fed off of its own people.

The civilians had again had enough. The few who had remained, who had escorted the freighters when there were freighters in the area, fought back. Over the years they had become more pilots, peacekeepers, and soldiers than civilians, an elite force of protectors. Someone had to, this far out from Centralia. They became the first Barrens Rangers.

After her shower, Sita stood by her locker mirror, brushing her hair. It was a trial to her: a mop of dark curls, a pain to straighten but also too thick and disorderly if left to its own devices. In training she'd gotten punished for having out of regulation hair more than once. Now that she was out of boot camp she could do what she liked with it, within reason, of course. Too bad it all too often went under her cap, as she was about to do now. She sighed, pulled it back and donned her headgear.

It was shift change when she finally left the locker room, and she cursed herself just a bit. Sita had lingered too long in her hot shower, trying to get the stench of death off of her. Now she had to fight with the crowd. A little over a thousand called this asteroid home, but only two thirds of those were sworn in as Barrens Rangers. The remainder were the civilians who kept them fed, clothed, clean and orderly as they went about their duties. When Sita had thought about joining the Rangers she had heard about their asteroid base, and the brave men and women and aliens that kept so many civilians and the space lanes safe. She pictured a gleaming and modern facility, and had been in for a hard revelation when she finally swore in and arrived.

It was organized chaos around her. The Rangers base was one large ring, interconnected all over with tubes, old mining shafts, and lifts. Years ago, the engineers had bored a single rock tunnel through the center, a costly and dangerous endeavor but a necessary one. Sita felt a fierce rush of pride: the Rangers could deploy a squadron of fighters, patrol ships, even a destroyer or two, you name it, in minutes from their asteroid base. All of it was decommissioned Capital Navy, but that didn't matter. What mattered was bringing law to the lawless.

The initial mining base they had taken over had been a relatively simple facility. Over the years, the Rangers and civilians had hewn shops, infirmaries, workshops, armories, latrines, storage areas, jail cells, barracks and so forth into the interior of the asteroid. In the bowels of the great rock were its power plant, the heating and cooling, the water and the air treatment facilities. As Sita walked, she saw a squad of rookies running laps around the interior of the base, and felt her lungs and legs twinge in nostalgic and sympathetic pain. It hadn't been that long ago that she was the one running her heart out, her breathing erratic, sweating and aching, praying for it all to end. She didn't miss those days.

Farther off, some more recruits were using power tools to chisel and burn away at yet another wall, such as it was, of the asteroid, filling the air with sparks and smells. It was all done all under the supervision of a dour looking Ranger who was frowning over an electronic scroll of old building plans he probably didn't need. He was jostled by a passing cargo skimmer, a slow moving one person craft that carried before it a stack of crates. Some curses were exchanged but then the construction crew moved aside. Sita crept behind the skimmer, slowing her pace but allowing her to take in the scenery, such as it was.

A cafeteria of sorts had been built out of the rough stone on her right. It was tiled and utilitarian, without fringe or carpets, the better to wipe off the spills of drinks, foods, and on some nights, blood. They didn't serve food or drink themselves beyond pre-packaged snacks, instead offering a place for Rangers and workers to gather outside of their diminutive barracks to eat and socialize. As she passed it the cafeteria filled up quickly with men and women and aliens unpacking their meals and spouting gossip, teasing one another or swapping stories. A staging area was next, where a company of Rangers was standing at attention as an officer inspected them and their uniforms, occasionally adjusting a ribbon here or loosening up a piece of gear there. On and on it went as Sita followed the skimmer to her destination, room after room, men and women, most in uniform, the constant noise of voices, boots on metal, and the hum of the recirculated air and power.

The Cloud Nine Qwik Dine was a Rangers staple, a trademark hang out for as long as anyone could remember. It consisted only of a handful of tables and a bar, minimal decor, and the surliest group of civilian waitstaff that Sita had ever experienced. She had been to much fancier restaurants in her time, even back on the backward moon she called home, but the place was legendary. It was said that you weren't a true Barrens Ranger until you'd been carried out of the CNQD.

Sita had no intention of drinking enough to get carried away, so to speak, but she was of a mind to have a few. She sought for and found Yomp at his usual spot at the bar, perched on a stool and already sipping a glass, telling one of his famous stories to another Ranger, but he trailed off when he saw her.

The old man finished his glass, bought two more, and patted the stool next to him. Sita swung a short but shapely leg over the offered seat, took her drink and wondered just how many times she had set next to Yomp and accepted a drink from his red hand. A great deal, she thought, and dipped her nose into the glass. He always drank human whiskey with her, never anything clear or weak. Yomp always said that anything less than brown whiskey was a waste of time.

"I'd thank you and offer to get the next round, but that'd be an exercise in futility." She said and smiled.

"That's a big word, girlie," The smooth skin over Yomp's left eye raised. He didn't have any eyebrows, but after so many years around humans, he had picked up some tics. "I'm nothing but a simple and underpaid law enforcement professional."

"You're simple but I wouldn't go so far as to say 'professional'." Sita said and then shyly sipped her drink, happy at her turn of phrase.

When he was done hooting laughter, Yomp clinked her glass before tossing the entire two fingers of whiskey down his throat. She joined him, draining her glass.

"I've taught you well. You are now a fully trained Barrens Ranger, able to bullshit and brawl throughout the galaxy. Go and spread the good word."

"You're in a good mood," The bartender, Tico, said as he came up to them and refilled their glasses. He was a tall, bearded human, with his planet's traditional burn scar tattoos on his arms. Word on the base was that he had tried to go through Rangers training twice, and failed. Most civilians who flubbed out were content to serve if they wanted to help the force, but not Tico. He served discontentedly.

"And why wouldn't I be? I've got a freshly trained officer to have a drink with and a fresh corpse to contend with when we're done." Yomp said.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Official Rangers business. I know it when I hear it." Tico topped off their glasses and then made a big show of wiping down the counter as he walked away, as if to illustrate that he understood that this conversation was not for the likes of him. Sita didn't quite roll her gorgeous hazel eyes, but it was a near thing.

"Bitterness." She said wryly.

"Running rampant," Yomp agreed, and swirled the ice in his glass. "I love this place, but given the choice, I wouldn't want to have to deal with him if I don't have to."

"Can't blame you." Sita delicately sipped from and then put her own glass down, and began shuttling it from hand to hand, gliding it along the gossamer surface of the bar. "The body?"

"Human female is about what we got so far," The old man said, sipping his drink. "But you could probably guess that by seeing her. Outside estimate was two weeks, but you could probably guess that by-"

"Smelling it, yes." She still wasn't quite used to the gallows humor that so permeated the Barrens Rangers. After nearly half a year she could tease with the best of them. But the thought of joking about a dead body always left her vaguely disquieted. She changed the subject.

"Did you track down the ship, the Pink Lady?"

"I did, I did," He sang out lightly. "The report should be at your terminal already."

"Got the highlights?"

"Registered on Mobussah, just like we said. Nothing special in the report, just another freighter making a living."

"Owner?" Sita wanted to know.

"Family called 'Natal.' They're big on Mobussah, own the race tracks. And their team is champions for years running."

"So I've heard." She had a habit of wiggling her lips from side to side when she was thinking, as she was doing now. "No ID on the dead woman yet?"

"Word doesn't travel that fast, girlie."

"And you sent everything off to the Capital Systems liaison?"

"Why bother? I might as well fire it all out the airlock for all the good it will do us." Yomp said without a hint of glumness or hyperbole.

Sita knew he was right. When the Capital Systems finally recognized and coordinated with the Rangers, they'd set up a liaison office on the base, ostensibly to help, but it was more to keep tabs on them. When it came to investigations the current liaison officer, a young Capital Navy political officer named Alla, was notoriously difficult and slow when it came to helping a Ranger out. At the soonest they would hear something back from her in weeks, and most petty crimes were long solved by then.

"Still, she should be kept in the loop." Sita had no love for the Capital Navy, but took help wherever she could get it. And if someone's job was spying on her openly she'd feel safer gathering some intelligence herself.

"Yeah, OK. She's not on the base currently, but I'll meet with her soon." Yomp looked disquieted.

"Would you like me to do that?"

"Please," He said, relieved. The Capital Worlds and the humans who called it home didn't like aliens. That was a given. But Alla was another type of human altogether. Though a mere ensign in rank, a whisper from her into the right ear and the entire Barrens Rangers could be destroyed, families uprooted and arrested, firing squads convened, you name it. As an unwritten rule, only human Rangers dealt with Alla, not aliens, as a simple precaution.

"Mobussah isn't a far hop. If we blast off now we can make it there and back in a few hours." She took a hefty slug of whiskey.

"Well, you know I'm always game," Yomp drained his glass, raised a clawed finger to single Tico, and made an elaborate gesture to indicate they were leaving. The surly man ignored him. "But what about Arold?"