by Jake Bible
“Yes, sir,” the corporal said, glanced at the oncoming Valencio, then saluted and hurried down the corridor away from the obvious confrontation.
“Major, you are a hard person to track down,” Valencio said.
“You shouldn’t be tracking me down, Captain,” North sighed. “You should be getting your cadet pilots ready for real space. Is there a reason you aren’t flying right now?”
“The flight deck was not prepared for the order, sir,” Valencio said. “And I have to say, again, that neither are these cadet pilots. Half these kids can barely walk a straight line. If I take them out into the vacuum then more than likely I will not be bringing all of them back.”
“This is war, Captain,” North said. “Most of them won’t last five seconds after their first launch from a carrier. Better to get the slackers out of the way now.”
“Sir, you are intentionally sending innocents to their deaths,” Valencio said. “In combat, that is expected, but in training? That’s just murder.”
“Only if you let them die,” North said.
“Sir! I cannot—”
“Listen, Deena. It is Deena, right?” North asked.
“Yes, sir,” Valencio nodded.
“Deena, you came highly recommended. I’ve told you that before,” North said. “I brought you on to the Perpetuity because I needed a fighter skiff trainer that could handle it all for me. I can fly a skiff, but I’m ground combat. That’s what I have the most experience in, which is why Commandant Terlinger brought me on. I didn’t think it mattered before, but now that we are quintupling the number of recruits and halving the training time, it really fucking matters.”
“Quintupling, sir?” Valencio asked.
“Yeah, quintupling,” North replied. “I have thousands upon thousands of combat virgins about to step foot onto this station and I have to concentrate on them. What I need you to do is concentrate on your cadet pilots. As of this second, I am giving you full reign out there. Take every cadet pilot you can and get them into the vacuum. If you are afraid they are going to crash into each other then take them way out like I suggested before. Give them room to learn. As much as you need. Fly to fucking Mars, for all I care. Understood?”
“Free reign? Seriously?” Valencio asked. “What will the commandant say?”
“He doesn’t care,” North replied. “The CSC’s focus is ground troops. That’s what he cares about. It’s my job to keep Terlinger happy and it’s your job to keep me happy. The cadet pilots are all yours. Do with them as you wish. Just keep them out of my hair and let me focus on the ground troops. Got it?”
“Got it, sir,” Valencio said. “You will not hear from me again, sir, I promise.”
“Except for your nightly report,” North said. “Don’t fall behind on your reports. The CSC lives for reports.”
“Yes, sir,” Valencio nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
“You are welcome, Captain,” North smiled. “And sorry for ripping you a new asshole earlier. Hopefully your new autonomy will make up for the new anatomy. Now, if you will excuse me, I have the afternoon batch of recruits to scream at before I make the rounds with the master sergeants.”
“Yes, sir,” Valencio said and saluted.
North returned the salute then turned and walked off quickly, leaving Valencio to stand there in the corridor as station personnel hurried by her. After a couple of seconds, she shook her head and pressed her wrist.
“Warrant Officer Zenobia,” she said.
“Paging Warrant Officer Zenobia,” a computerized voice replied.
After a second, the image of a sleepy young woman came up on Valencio’s wrist.
“Captain? What’s up?” Warrant Officer Dusty Zenobia asked. Short, muscular, with almost pure red skin and close-cropped blonde hair, Zenobia looked just like her nickname of “Demon.” She rubbed at her eyes and then adjusted her tank top, rolling her head on her neck. “I was grabbing some Z’s before my next shift.”
“Nap time is over, Demon,” Valencio grinned. “We are hitting the vacuum.”
“What? Why?” Zenobia asked. The flickering image showed her standing up and stretching as she turned and kicked her bunk, sending it folding back into the wall of her quarters. “The cadets aren’t ready yet.”
“North kicked us out of the sims,” Valencio said. “Gave me full reign to take the skiffs out into the vacuum for live training. The flight deck has them up and running.”
Zenobia scratched at her ass then pulled a wedgie out of her crack. “Well, that’s cool. We leaving now?”
“Yeah, so get your pants on and meet me on the flight deck,” Valencio said. “I’m getting Richtoff and London together for this too.”
“London? Why him? He’s support, not combat,” Zenobia said. “Where the fuck are my pants?”
“Right behind you,” Valencio said. “Get some pharma and wake up, okay? I need you alert for this.”
“Roger that,” Zenobia said, grabbing her pants and throwing them over her shoulder. “Don’t need pharma, though. Just need to take a shit then I’ll be ready to fuck.”
“Just be ready to fly,” Valencio laughed.
“Same thing where I come from,” Zenobia smiled. “See ya in five.”
“Five? You shit fast,” Valencio said.
“I fuck fast too,” Zenobia replied then waved her hand.
The image flicked out and Valencio started moving again, her new authority energizing her. She dodged the oncoming station personnel and pressed her wrist again.
“Get me Warrant Officer Richtoff,” she said.
“Paging Warrant Officer Richtoff,” the computerized voice replied.
Thirteen
The chime rang on Maintenance Chief First Sergeant Hal Wendt’s wrist for the tenth time, but he ignored it once again, keeping his focus on his current task.
“You…had…better…get that,” Corporal Niecey Coor gasped as she ran her fingers through Wendt’s hair, his face buried between her legs. “Ten…times…means trouble.”
“You really want me to stop?” Wendt asked as he pulled his mouth from Coor’s crotch and looked up at the naked and flushed woman he had on his workbench. “I can stop if you want.”
“Shut up,” Coor’s said as she shoved Wendt’s head back between her legs. “Just give me five more seconds.”
“That’s what I thought,” Wendt replied, his voice muffled.
Coor arched her back as Wendt returned to task. Her mouth opened wide in a silent cry as her fingers went from stroking Wendt’s hair to tugging on it then outright pulling. She shuddered over and over then collapsed forward, wrapping her arms around Wendt’s shoulders as a massive orgasm took all muscle control from her body.
“Holy shit,” she gasped. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. God, I needed that.”
Wendt gently pushed back and stood up, licking his lips.
“Sorry it’s been a while, baby,” he said. “This station keeps falling apart which means I keep working double shifts.”
“As long as we get to do this once a week, I’m good,” Coor said as she leaned back on the bench, shoving various parts and equipment out of the way, and spread her legs wide. “Your turn.”
“Damn right,” Wendt grinned as he unbuckled his pants.
There was a loud knock at the locked hatch only a couple feet from the workbench. Wendt stopped unbuckling and looked at the naked woman right in front of him.
“Shit,” he said. “Maybe I should have answered those calls.”
“Hand me my clothes!” Coor snapped as she jumped down from the workbench. “Goddamn it, Hal! Get me my clothes!”
“Here, here!” Wendt said as he crouched and picked up Coor’s underwear, pants, and shirt. He tossed her the shirt then held out the underwear. “Step in.”
The loud knocking turned into hard fist pounding.
“Hold on!” Wendt yelled. “Come on, come on. Step in!”
Coor clumsily stepped into her underwear while she tried to
get her shirt on over her head.
“Where’s my bra?” she snapped.
The fist pounding got even louder.
“No time for your bra,” Wendt said as he yanked Coor’s underwear up her legs then bent and picked up her pants. “Get into these.”
Coor shimmied into her pants then shoved Wendt away as she buckled her belt and started to search for her lost bra. “It was just right here. Where the fuck is it?”
“Wendt! What the hell?” a voice called through the hatch. “Open the hell up! Linklater needs you!”
“Oh, shit,” Wendt said. “It must be bad if that asshole wants me.” He looked at Coor. “You ready?”
“No! I can’t find my fucking bra!” Coor snapped.
“Forget the damned bra!” Wendt replied as he reached out and unlocked the hatch then pulled it open. “Oh, hey there, Jeff. My comm must be out. I’ll have a look at it right away. So…what’s Linklater need?”
Corporal Jeff Diego glanced past Wendt to Coor then back to Wendt. His eyes glanced down then quickly away.
“Yeah, your comm isn’t the only thing that’s out,” Diego said. “Zip it up, Sergeant. You outranking me doesn’t mean I have to look at your cock.”
Wendt glanced down and saw his pants were unzipped and he was at full attention.
“Fuck,” Wendt said as he tucked himself back in and zipped up. “Shit. Don’t say a word of this, okay?”
“I want that bottle of scotch you’ve got tucked away,” Diego said then smiled at Coor. “Hey, Niecey. Didn’t you get knocked back down to corporal because of something like this last Christmas? Damn, I’d hate to see you get reduced to private or even booted from Perpetuity all together.”
“What do you want, Jeff?” Coor growled.
“I’ll take that bra that’s hanging from that hook there,” Diego smirked. “Nice bottle of scotch and your bra should keep me happy on those cold, lonely nights.”
“You’re a fucking perv, Jeff,” Coor said as she turned, yanked the missing bra from the hook over the workbench, and tossed it to Diego. “You tell anyone where you got that and your jerking off days are over, got me? I will slice your dick off.”
“I know you will,” Diego grinned, catching the bra and stuffing it into his pocket. He focused back on Wendt. “Dornan said you’re to meet Linklater up on three-fifty in the server tower. You’re supposed to ladder it up since Linklater is on the lift.”
“Ladder it up to three-fifty? Fuck that,” Wendt said.
Diego shrugged. “I’m just relaying the message.” He patted his pocket and smiled at Coor. “Thanks for the gift, Niecey. I’ll be thinking of you tonight.” He reached out and lightly tapped Wendt on the cheek. “Have that scotch to me as soon as you’re done with Linklater. I’m off shift tonight and I need to get tight and cut loose.”
“Just use pharma like everyone else,” Coor said.
“Nah, the new batch feels weird,” Diego said. “Gave me the willies this morning. I almost ripped Barker’s head off for taking a drink of my milk. I’d rather have the scotch.”
“You’ll have it. Now fuck off,” Wendt said and closed the hatch in Diego’s face. He sighed then turned around and looked at Coor. “Linklater’s already pissed. Want to let me have my turn?”
“I don’t think so,” Coor said as she shoved Wendt out of the way and pulled the hatch back open. “Looks like Jeff isn’t the only one that’ll be jerking off tonight.”
“Ah, come on, Niecey!” Wendt called after Coor as the woman hurried down the corridor and away from Wendt’s workshop. “My nuts feel like lead! Niecey? Niecey! Shit!”
Fourteen
The injector clattered into the sink and North took a deep breath as the pharma worked its way through his nervous system. North stared at himself in the mirror and watched as his pupils dilated to almost full. He counted to fifty, and when his pupils didn’t contract, he picked up the second injector by the sink, pressed it to the median nerve in his left forearm and pulled the trigger. The second dose of pharma was designed to smooth the edges of the first dose and he instantly felt his whole body start to relax.
Another glance in the mirror showed him almost normal pupils. Almost.
“Close enough for government work,” he muttered as he tossed the injectors into the incinerator port in the wall. There was a flash and a whump. “Time to get back to it.”
His wrist chimed and he pressed at it, surprised to see Linklater appear. More surprised by where he was.
“You’re looking a little intimate with those servers, Link,” North said. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I wish I knew,” Linklater replied. “I’m waiting on Wendt to get here and help me with this shit. He knows the server tower better than I do.”
“Then why are you messing with them?” North asked.
“Because the sim maxes needed to be upped,” Linklater said. “Which I did just before finding this cluster fuck.”
“What do those servers do?” North asked.
“Fucking HR, I think,” Linklater replied. “Recruitment files for all of the cadets. With the volume we’re bringing in, Terlinger is going to shit himself if the intake process collapses. I’m surprised it hasn’t already.”
“That’s because we’re bypassing the intake,” North said. “No time. Metzger’s guys are manually scanning the cadets whenever there’s a glitch. So far all chips have passed muster.”
“Yeah, I know. Metzger and I already had words,” Linklater said. “Good thing I’m here to get it all back online because I told him it wasn’t a computer issue, but just a volume issue.”
“Why are you there anyway? I need you in the sim control room,” North said. “Get some other tech to handle the work.”
“Yeah, right,” Linklater laughed. “What do you think is going to happen if Terlinger knows I found an entire bank of servers crushed and handed it off to a maintenance chief?”
“If it all goes right then he’ll do nothing,” North said. “If anything goes wrong then he’ll toss you into the vacuum.”
“Exactly,” Linklater said. “So I’m staying. You can order me to go, but this is recruit intake, North. And recruit intake is Terlinger’s current obsession, right?”
“Keep up the good work,” North said. “Is that what you called about?”
“What?” Linklater asked.
“You called me, Link,” North said.
“Oh, right, yeah, I forgot,” Linklater said. “I was just calling to say I won’t be in the evening briefing. Obviously.”
“Gotcha. Not a problem,” North replied. “If that’s all then— wait? Did you say the servers were crushed?”
“Yep,” Linklater said. “Looks like someone took a wrench to them. I’m guessing one of the maintenance crew decided to take his or her frustrations out in the server tower. Normally, intake servers would be pretty benign. Today, they are not.”
“No, today they are not,” North said. “I may send Metzger up to have a look after I scream at the afternoon batch of recruits. Which I’m late for! Fuck!”
“Metzger? I don’t want that gorilla up—,” Linklater started, but North cut off the transmission before he could finish.
“Fuck,” North said as he rushed from his quarters and started sprinting towards the main recruit holding bay.
Fifteen
One hundred fighter skiffs flew from the Perpetuity’s flight deck, followed by a bulky cargo skiff that was soon trailing far behind the much faster and more maneuverable vehicles ahead of it.
“Try to keep up, London!” Zenobia shouted as she flew her skiff around the fighters being piloted by cadets. “We’ll be done with training before you even get to us at that speed!”
“Can it, Demon,” Warrant Officer James London replied over the comm. “You just fly like a pharmaed-up weasel and I’ll keep things slow and steady. I’ll be there to refuel your cocky red ass when you need it, don’t you worry.”
“No need to get racist on me,
James.” Zenobia smiled as she cut off a skiff, sending the cadet pilot into a panic and almost crashing into the fighter next to him. “Watch where you’re flying, cadet pilot!”
“You are having way too much fun,” London said.
“You both are,” Valencio interrupted. “Keep the chatter down until we get to the training point.”
“Kinda going far out, aren’t we boss?” London asked.
“You brought enough fuel cells for all the fighters like I asked, right?” Valencio responded.
“I did,” London said.
“Then we are going just far enough,” Valencio replied. “I want these rookies to learn how to fly. They’ll need room for that unless you brought two hundred body bags.”
“No need for body bags in the vacuum, boss,” London laughed. “Bodies turn hard as rock in this deep freeze. I only need two hundred tow lines. I can drag them back to the Perpetuity and let the maintenance crew deal with the clean up.”
“You’re a prince amongst assholes,” Zenobia said.
“I try,” London replied.
“Will you all shut it?” Warrant Officer Millie Richtoff said over the comm. “I hate useless banter. Useless banter gives me a migraine. Can we stick to business?”
“Useless banter is business,” Zenobia replied. “It’s a long tradition amongst fighter jocks.”
“It’s a long tradition amongst egotistical assholes,” Richtoff replied. “Professionals keep their mouths shut and minds focused.”
“Captain? Care to weigh in?” Zenobia asked. “Useless banter or boring professionalism?”
“I don’t really care as long as we get the job done,” Valencio replied. “We keep these rookies from ramming into each other and you can have all the useless banter or all the boring professionalism you want. I just want results.”
“Oh, you’re going to get results,” Zenobia said as she tapped at the control panel in front of her. “Hello, cadet pilots! My name is Warrant Officer Dusty Zenobia! Amongst friends, I am known as Demon, but you will call me God. I am going to show you how to fly these finely tuned machines like a real pilot! Try to keep up without dying, alright?”
