IGO: Sudden Snow

by Blue, RaeLynn

“Yes, sir,” Darryl said, a flood of confidence making him taller.

  With Commander Taylor’s words humming in his ears, Darryl marched through the cargo bay and approached the exit doors without hesitation. He’d be in and out in mere minutes. And although Commander Taylor hadn’t said as much, his gut burned with suspicion. Stealth had been one of Darryl’s strong suits on Alpha team and it was no doubt one of the reasons he’d been handpicked to snag the scientist.

  The cargo doors opened to reveal an unsmiling and scowling outpost officer. “Commander Taylor,” the outtie said briskly, face tight. “I’m Outpost Officer Higgins. We have your scientist, but we must move her quickly.”

  Having a name to put with the rough and barking voice from earlier didn’t make Darryl like him better. He watched as Higgins’ beady black eyes gave him the once over, observing him with thinly veiled trepidation.

  “I’m not Commander Taylor,” Darryl said. “I’m an envoy sent to escort her.”

  “That isn’t what I agreed to with the IGO,” Higgins snapped. “I was just expecting Taylor. Damn visuals aren’t as good here.”

  “I’m not familiar with those terms. You can check with Commander Taylor. I’m Sergeant…”

  “I don’t want your name!” Higgins growled, searching frantically behind him. “Shut up.”

  Darryl chuckled at the rudeness. Higgins’ venom didn’t bother him, because he knew the outtie was offended that Commander Taylor had sent an underling to do this job.

  He pinned his eyes back to Darryl’s. “Follow me.”

  What in the name of Zeus is going on here? Higgins packed enough nerves to set off a stroke. Darryl scanned the docking bay. Empty. Vacant. No civilian transports. No outpost shuttlepods. Nothing. Where is everyone?

  “You can observe the dock on your next vacation to Io. Let’s go,” Officer Higgins snapped and hurried through the doors and into the outpost’s inner corridors.

  Climbing through the catacombs of hallways, Darryl’s mind whirled. They’d come to pick up a stranded scientist, so why the secrecy? Sure, Io housed the IGO’s Research and Development section, but this?

  In minutes, they stopped at the metallic doors with the words “Collection” in neon yellow above them. Officer Higgins halted with military precision that would be the envy of any IGO soldier. Higgins turned to Darryl with barely contained disgust.

  Yeah, the feeling’s mutual, pal.

  “I can lose my post because of this,” he said so softly, Darryl leaned in to make sure he heard it. “I -- I hope you tell…”

  “Of course,” Darryl agreed with professionalism. “Your contribution will be noted and included in my report to Commander Taylor. Proceed. Time is of the essence as you are well aware.”

  “Yes.”

  Higgins pressed his palm against the scanner, leaning in simultaneously for the retina scan. The doors slid open and they rushed in. Higgins bypassed the offices and continued to the rear, but that area, too, sat vacant and empty -- just like the dock.

  “Where is everyone?” Darryl asked. “It’s morning, right?”

  Higgins sighed in fervent annoyance. “It’s nearly four a.m. here. They’re asleep, drunk, or knee-deep in their respective research. This isn’t like Europa Outpost or even the Moon’s. We’re a research facility, not an entertainment spot.”

  They continued on through two more areas that looked identical to the first one before they reached a bank of cages. A dozen or more force field reinforced cells stretched out in two opposite directions. Dead on center in a square, blank-walled cube, seated on a sliver of azure foam attached to the wall, was a woman.

  Darryl stopped in his tracks. That’s her? She’s the scientist?

  As the noise of their approach reached the woman, she got to her feet and crossed her arms. Almond-shaped honey-brown eyes burned with what must’ve been fury, and her thick lips resembled a block of annoyance as if she were afraid to open them. Dressed in a gray ribbed turtleneck, jeans and black IGO issued combat/space boots, the woman looked nothing like a scientist, but more like a cargo loader.

  Darryl couldn’t help but take her in. The jeans skimmed voluptuous curves, and fed into a tapered waist with grace. As if taking cue from the jeans, the turtleneck also slipped over full breasts and long, slender arms. Smooth dark ebony skin peered out and captured the harsh lights’ illumination with flawless skill.

  She was stunning.

  Tossing her hair over her shoulder, the woman shouted, “What now, Officer Higgins? I demand to be treated according to the Intergalactic Treaty of 2380.”

  Higgins huffed, but held his tongue. Sweeping his hand in Darryl’s direction, he gave a mock bow and stepped back from the front of the cube.

  It’s all me, huh, Higgins?

  Darryl stepped forward, forcing himself to be a soothing presence. He seemed to even coax Higgins down to a normal level. She’d done exactly as trained by invoking the treaty.

  “I’m Sergeant Snow,” he said. “I’m here on orders to take possession of your research and your person at this time. Please calm yourself.”

  She hesitated, her lips now a slash of doubt. “What is the current safe code?” she asked.

  Darryl smiled. Smart. The safety code had been given to each IGO soldier, but it rotated every six months. They’d been unable to maintain constant contact with The Discovery since receiving the orders to get to the Io Outpost. So the code might be stale. Still all security codes in hostage situations were the same -- until the IGO changed them again. He had to try.

  “The security code is Hera 2309841.”

  “Yes, okay,” she said, visibly relaxing. “ID?”

  He showed her his wrist, where beneath the skin rested the IGO brand.

  “Great,” Higgins said with sarcasm as heavy as molasses. “Open cell 1209, authorization HFPNT 2400. This is IGO Doctor Cricket Moore.”

  Dr. Moore.

  The force field vanished, and Dr. Moore marched out with her backpack, searching the place as if committing it to memory before stalking to the exit. Once she crossed through the silver-toned doors and out into the outpost’s hallway, she sighed. With a stern expression, she turned back to Darryl and said, “Please, can we go?”

  “This way to the docking bay,” Darryl said almost as a reflex. He’d been taking orders for most of his life, so he’d already taken a step before he realized he’d done it. Commander Taylor had instructed him to bring her to the spacecraft, not the other way around. He was in charge, and he wasn’t going to let her lead the way.

  But once his eyes fell on the gentle sway of her round buttocks, his other head took over. Coughing through the lump in his throat, Darryl swore as he made a point of pinning his gaze to the back of her head. Obviously, Dr. Moore knew her way around the outpost. After all, she’d been stationed here for gods knew how long.

  With his uniform shrinking below his waist, he adjusted the leg and tried to rid himself of the rather unprofessional thoughts swarming his cranium about the sensual scientist. Did they all look this good? He might consider a transfer to Io. How come none of the scientists on board The Inquiry looked as delightful as this one?

  It seemed the corridors unraveled in miles upon miles of similar dark, sullen shadows of storefronts, libraries and cafes. But Darryl realized the walk back seemed so long because he couldn’t stop staring at the good doctor’s generous ass, and it troubled him. On The Inquiry a handful of women worked alongside him, and none of them stirred his long dormant desires like the surprising un-straight-laced woman in front of him.

  She came to a halt at the entrance to docking bay 12. With an emerging coolness, she turned to him and said, “Are you going to tell me which ship is yours?”

  He’d been so wrapped up in her unrestrained sexuality Darryl had been waiting behind her as if he’d been towed there. Shaking his head, he rubbed his buzzed hair and stepped forward, throwing his shoulders back as he marched ahead. “Of course,” he said more sternly than he’d intended. “We’r
e on The Inquiry.”

  He swept his hand in the direction where The Inquiry sat tethered to the docking bay. The cargo doors remained shut tight, and Darryl swore beneath his breath. He should’ve already contacted Commander Taylor. The scientist had him addled.

  With a mental reprimand to be more diligent, Darryl pressed the button on his earpiece and said, “Commander Taylor. I’ve secured the package. Ready to deliver.”

  “Did you just refer to me as a package?” Dr. Moore asked, her eyes narrowing to slits. Her arms followed suit, crossing over her attractive breasts and covering them from Darryl’s view. Despite this, he spied those round globes rising and falling as the doctor’s breathing increased. “I’ll have you know that I am a person, not some errant misplaced item.”

  No, ma’am, you’re most certainly not some misplaced item. You’re much too sexy for such a lousy label. But I’ve got an item I’d like to lose inside of your velvety softness.

  Darryl bit the inside of his cheeks to keep the words from coming out of his mouth. As he coughed out yet another clammy knot of awkwardness, the doors opened wide like a ravenous mouth -- its tongue stood erect in a smoke gray uniform, Commander Taylor.

  With his arms casually by his sides, the commander smiled. “Dr. Cricket Moore,” he said. “Welcome to The Inquiry. Please come aboard. We have to make haste. Unfortunately, Director Wang has activated the outpost’s defense. He and I couldn’t agree on terms.”

  He said it so calmly that Darryl thought he’d invited the doctor for tea, but once the words registered, he grabbed the woman’s upper arm and dragged her inside the cargo bay.

  “Let go of me!”

  Darryl released her once, smacking his hand against the doors’ release. As they closed behind him, he hastened his steps to the still waiting commander.

  The commander grinned at Darryl as one would a son or younger sibling. “And I sent you to get her because of your calm manner.”

  “What? Oh, yes sir!” Darryl panted, his heart hammering in his chest. They had to get out of the bay and into space before Wang started firing at them. The Inquiry wasn’t a combat vessel. “May I report to security and tactical? We must get going, sir.”

  With his eyes twinkling in amusement Darryl didn’t quite understand, Commander Taylor answered, “Absolutely, Sergeant Snow. There’s no other spot I’d rather you be.”

  “Thank you, sir!” Darryl rushed out in a mashed string of words as he raced to the lift. “Horseshoe!”

  Even as he began to consider which defensive maneuvers to employ, in the back of his mind, a silhouette of the lovely Dr. Cricket Moore danced seductively and from time to time flashed into the smooth, cocoa flesh before his more immediate thoughts sent her back to shadow again.

  Chapter 2

  Cricket remained motionless a breath inside her new quarters, her heart continuing its swift gallop. Her attention was drawn to a three-foot wide plasma screen embedded inside the wall’s surface. With a press of her fingers, she would gain easy access to databases, music, video and gaming -- in a word, entertainment both real and simulated. To the door’s immediate left, a single bed and IGO standard-issue linens awaited her attention. Though sparse, the quarters met the expectations of a soldier who required moving at a moment’s notice. A life she hadn’t lived in five long years.

  Not that she’d put down roots at Io. The sole difference between her quarters on the post and this new one was that her quarters had hardcopy volcanic images and her notes tacked all over the walls.

  She dropped her backpack onto the bed and plopped down beside it. Cricket buried her face in her hands as the tide she’d held at bay since Director Wang’s call rushed up from inside. A call from the director of an outpost instead of a comm from her project leader. None of this was IGO standard protocol. Wong had said it had come from an IGO officer. But who?

  Classified rank 37 was only three levels below the IGO President’s office. Something wasn’t right. No one that high up cared about her little science experiment, Ganor, a simple investigation into the volcanoes on Europa.

  Once her locked and compressed emotions were freed, she couldn’t reel them in again. Before long, her huge guffaws melted into hysterical crying. Her life had been watered down to a sack full of things and a few portable drives. Mobile. Transitive.

  Halting her tears, she shoved those emotions back to the locked section of her heart. Wiping her damp cheeks, she got up and went to the sliver of floor-to-ceiling elongated glass on either side of the central wall. Scattered stars lit up the surrounding dark like diamonds cast carelessly onto plush ebony velvet. She loved the view. Space comforted her and humbled her each time she took in its spectacular expanse. Dwarfed by its enormity, Cricket had discovered long ago that words were sorely inadequate to describe it or the feelings wrought from its beauty.

  The outpost rotated slowly. Like a planet it deceived one into thinking it was stationary. A floating gray steel ballerina, frozen in a swirl, arms in a circle, spinning in the black sea of space, the outpost was very much active. It had been her home, if she could call it that. But no longer.

  She couldn’t even say she missed it. It was familiar, but not a place where her roots reached deep. To be honest, the post was more continuous office than home. When she thought of home, images of a housing container, complete with a husband, a pet, and maybe a well-manicured lawn came rushing forward. Not a seven-hundred-square-foot box onboard an IGO space station.

  Things had changed so suddenly Cricket couldn’t quite believe it. She had a hard time trying to wrap her head around it. Numb, she briskly rubbed her arms. What would happen to the other scientists? Ganor?

  She sighed. Aggravated with the direction her thoughts had taken, Cricket abruptly changed her focus. Too long she’d been skimming on engaging her life to its fullest, and now her entire life had been cast into the fray. She’d been kicked off her project on Io and arrested. Sergeant Snow could make me feel alive again. He’s got a lightning rod packaged for me. I bet he’d set every single icy block in my belly to jelly.

  The roguish hunk pushed her long dormant buttons. She hadn’t been struck by anyone like him in years. Several long years, if she allowed herself to think about it for more than a brief moment, had gone by without so much as a kiss.

  At that moment, the spacecraft shuddered and she spilled to the floor. Bathed in the battle mode’s scarlet warning blare, she struggled to her feet and held onto the bed’s footboard for stability.

  “Warning, battle red. Warning, battle red. Engage safety protocol Delta 5019-Zebra.”

  Cricket grimaced and went to the media center. At once she keyed in her IGO login and called up the outer visuals. Her fingers danced over the touch sensitive screen which, like a well choreographed partner, flickered accordingly. Displays dashed on and hastily vanished as she sped through the options. She managed to keep her balance as the spacecraft lurched ferociously. No doubt the pilot had engaged defensive maneuvers, and the commanding crew had it all under control.

  Once she was logged in, the outside visual feed flickered once and the shower of fired laser blasts from the post lit up the sky. The streams whisked by as the spacecraft danced and tumbled, flipped and skidded by them. Poor imagery gave the feed a grainy distorted quality. She could barely make out the circular sphere of the outpost; its gray titanium flesh eerily bespeckled by static. It grew smaller as the distance increased between them. Static continued to rip through the video, bathing the screen in frosted white before winking back into feeble and fluttering imagery.

  Staring at the streaming shots and the whirling maneuvering outside, Cricket shook her head in disbelief. Wang wanted her so badly that he risked his own men and those innocents onboard The Inquiry. Project Ganor hadn’t been a large, commercial or economic item for the IGO. A small grant-funded project with a lofty, long-term goal, to be sure, but it was obtainable -- in fifty years. The research she had couldn’t be worth this much effort and possible loss of human life.


  As she thought about the commanding crew, her mind at once clicked on Sergeant Snow. It was most certain that the handsome officer had been staring at her. When making her way back to the docking bay, she had felt his hazel eyes on her back… lower back -- ahem, her ass -- and it had prickled a rush of heat across her body. Her nipples remained tingling long after Sergeant Snow darted through the cargo bay to his station.

  When he had grabbed her arm and dragged her into the cargo bay, she’d wanted his hands off of her at once. His touch had ignited something inside of her, something she didn’t want to feel or even acknowledge. Each of his fingers had sent shivers through her very core, setting her entire libido into overdrive. Further contact would’ve led to inexcusable actions, like her stripping him from his uniform and sucking him into her being. She hadn’t been touched by anyone with passion or emotion in years. Sim partners didn’t qualify as actual human contact.

  Get a grip, Cricket. He’s an officer. All IGO males think they’re the solar system’s semen vessels for females. This Sergeant Snow isn’t any different.

  “Dr. Moore?” a voice erupted from her quarters’ speakers.

  “Yes,” she answered, pulling herself from the budding fantasy starring the handsome Snow.

  The slightly hoarse voice said, “This is Sergeant Snow. Are you safe?”

  I wonder how he got the scar.

  “Doctor?”

  “Oh, yes, yes, I-I’m settling in. Thank you.”

  Silence.

  “Please secure yourself and your belongings. Snow out.”

  Cricket frowned at the blinking green light as it switched to scarlet. He’d disconnected the comm.

  Not a very forthcoming fellow, but perhaps he had a lot to do up front. What had Commander Taylor said? There’s no place he’d rather have Sergeant Snow than at tactical and security. She nodded as if he could see her. Yes, he had other responsibilities than babysitting a discarded scientist.

  She cringed at the label’s accuracy.

  As the spacecraft’s ride smoothed out and settled down, she felt it leap forward as the pilot engaged the warp drive. Soaring across space, she knew they were out of Wang’s reach for a while, though not forever.