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Subject: {ASSM} Born Again (ScFi FF MF sm semi-mc) by Orestes
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Born Again
By Orestes
orestes007@hotmail.com
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Orestes
***
This work is copyright (c) 2000 by Orestes. You may download and keep
copies for your personal use as long as the author's byline and e-mail
address and this paragraph remain on the copies. Please do not post this
story to any web site without permission from the author. All other rights
reserved. No alteration of the contents is permitted.
Note: This story is written as a sequel to one of my previous stories,
"Wiped Clean". I hope that this one will stand alone, but reading the
original work might increase your enjoyment of this story. It can be found
with my other stories at www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Orestes , in the mind
control section.
***
For about the hundredth time of the trip, India was subjected to the doom
and gloom computerized warnings about entering this sector of space during a
time of war. The automated voice worked its legalese throughout the
passenger cabins of the vessel in three different languages, each repetition
less convincing than the last. Anyone who had come this far wasn't going to
turn back now.
India had been awake for hours, but remained silent while her Quebecois
companion finished her sleep. Despite the younger girl's convictions that
she was on her way to becoming a tough-as-nails mercenary, Sylvia seemed
almost weightlessly frail against India's body. It was this out of place
touch of weakness that had attracted India to the younger girl.
This predatory feeling was new. It was a gift from the McPhail
corporation, given at the same time as the hardware implants, and physical
modifications that made sleep largely unnecessary for her now.
While she kept still in the semi-dark of the cabin, India could feel
these wonderfully new predatory urges pounding through her chest. In sleep,
her young companion was helpless, and almost angelic in expression. Her
amusing mixture of French and English, neither language spoken with
competence, should have melted India's heart. This was exactly the kind of
girl she would have fallen head over heels for in her college days.
But there were only traces of tenderness in India's heart. Mainly, the
girl had been an amusement.
The sex had been rough and dirty, each session reinforcing India's
dominance over the younger woman. And while Sylvia still did a fine job of
projecting her mercenary exterior while in the public areas of the ship,
when they were alone, the Quebecois girl was like a puppy-dog, anxious to
please her new owner.
In some perverse way, it was this victory of spirit that pleased India
more than any physical pleasure that came from sharing her bed. When the
time came, and they reached port in the Shaw colony, India would cast the
girl aside without remorse.
Somewhere inside of her, that detachment from emotion scared her. It was
so unlike her. It was so... McPhail.
" Morality can be a very dangerous thing, " India remembered the words of
the McPhail head of covert operations, who's name eluded her right now.
Maura, maybe. Yes, Maura. Truth be told, India couldn't even recall on which
occasion she had heard those words, but she remembered the expression on the
woman's face when she had delivered them.
Serious. Almost fearful.
And she remembered Hiroshi Nagato standing at Maura's side, nodding
solemnly in agreement. It was this man who had overseen the implantation
process. He watched sympathetically from the observation room while the
porcelain-skinned doctor, Cue-Peg, cruelly made the illegal physical
modifications without the benefit of anaesthetics.
The tall doctor had paced around the room like a caged animal, toying
with what live prey her captors had provided her. India could have sworn
that she could detect the aroma of the doctor's arousal as she made those
first painful incisions into her body. Each day that the sadistic treatments
continued, India could taste the woman's arousal growing. Near the end, when
she would black-out from the pain, India would awaken with that familiar
taste fresh on her tongue.
At the time, the ordeal had been frightening. India remembered crying for
mercy, and the twisted sort of smile those pleas would bring to the doctor's
impossibly dark eyes. Looking back on it, however, there was no fear left.
The time she had spent in that tiny room, strapped face-down to an operating
table, felt like a fitting initiation to her life within McPhail.
That taste of sadistic pleasure remained with her too, and thinking about
her time at the Macau research station always gave her a rush of arousal.
India dropped her hand down beside the bed to find the leather belt she had
left there after the previous evening's pleasures.
It was time for her little French girl to wake up anyway, and what better
way to get her blood pumping than a little morning workout. Besides, there
was still a tender area of pale white flesh high on the girl's inner thighs
that hadn't yet tasted the leather.
India was glad she had saved a little virgin flesh for their last day
together.
*****
No one could say for certain why a place like Shaw colony was spared the
ravages of war, while less than a day's travel away, the conflicts were
waged openly. Some justified it by historical trends. Others called it dumb
luck. Holy Moses preferred to call it the will of God.
However it was chosen, no one would violate the unspoken agreement that
kept this port safe. It was just too useful to everyone involved. It was a
place for mercenaries to be hired, and when the war was done with them, a
place for remains to be shipped home. It was a gateway for armaments and
refugees, a place for the tired to sleep, and a place for the scavengers to
spend the spoils of war.
On this day, Moses spent his time touching up the paint on the outside of
his small barge. Two new metallic patches had been added to the underside of
the ship. Moses was hard pressed to find a shade of blue paint that would
match the patchwork of other blues that had been added over the years.
However, he spent more of his time meticulously cleaning and touching up the
red and white emblem that donned the sides of the ship.
Through years of piloting in war zones, some would call it a plain fluke
that the red and white shield emblem had never been struck by any kind of
enemy fire. Moses preferred to call it the will of God.
" The Salvation Army ? " a woman's voice questioned from below. " I
didn't think they showed up for this kind of a war. "
" They don't, " answered Moses, not yet looking down. " Between
conflicts, I do transport runs for their Op Shops. Don't ask me why they
call it an 'Op Shop'. It seems a strange name for a thrift store to me. When
I'm out piloting in battle zones, I make an effort to send any salvage I can
back their way. "
" So you don't work for them ?"
" It's a volunteer thing, really. I do my best to see that some sort of
good come out of the evil we see here. Right now, I'm contracted to the
McPhail corporation, media division. "
" Good. Then you're the man I'm looking for. "
Moses stepped down from the metal rungs that led up the side of the barge
to greet the woman. She held out her hand.
" India Taggart, " she smiled with teeth perfectly straight and
proportional. She was strikingly perfect, like those obscenely expensive
women who could only be seen on newscasts and pornography, not that Moses
would know about such things. He was half way through a handshake before he
remembered how much paint was still on his hands.
" Damn, I'm sorry, " he apologized, and offered the woman a cloth. " I'm
Moses Adams. "
" No problem, " she assured him, with a wink. There was something just
slightly contrived about the moment, and it gave Moses a chill. Everything
about her manner and appearance seemed calculated, by the algebra of human
emotion, to illicit warmth and trust. There was no telling how much of her
was natural, and how much had been enhanced. He'd seen her type before, just
never to this extent.
Even her name. India Taggart. It was just too perfect. It was a stage
name. There was just a trace of ethnicity in her refined features that
hinted of an Indian origin. Otherwise, her hazel-coloured eyes and full lips
seemed as fashionable as the most recent list of the 50 most beautiful
people.
Damn. He'd never seen such a piece of work.
" Why don't you show me around Shaw colony before we get going ? It might
be good for some background footage. "
" Uh, okay. But could I give you a little advice ?"
" Shoot. "
" The thing is, it looks like you're on a fashion safari or something, "
Moses told her, not pulling any punches. " In your business, saying you're a
war correspondent might carry some romantic Ernest Hemingway notions with
it, but out here, you're just another target. Dressed like that, and, if
you'll excuse me saying... looking the way you do, you're a target worth
taking. "
India looked down at her clothing self-consciously. "What do you suggest
?"
" If you're flying with me anyhow, you may as well just slip into a
flight suit. As you can see, they're none too flattering. Tie up your hair,
wear a baseball cap, and don't flash your pretty teeth to strangers. That
ought to do it. "
Twice before, Moses had taken on war reporters for the McPhail
corporation. On other occasions, he had worked for competing media outlets.
He had brought all of the reporters home alive, which is more than could be
said for most freelance pilots that could be hired around here. Hell, most
of these guys would already be planning how to spend the money they would
get from selling a pretty thing like India into sex slavery.
Not Moses. That wouldn't be the will of God.
*****
India stripped out of her clothes in the cabin of the barge. She swore at
herself silently for the mistake of wearing the stylish khakis to this
assignment. It was a rookie mistake. Amateurish.
What bothered her most was the truth in what Moses had said. Despite a
Harvard education, and all of the first-class information hardware that
Hiroshi had installed in her head, she was still just an amateur at this.
Right now, more than anything, she needed to rely on her survival instincts.
They were instincts so dark and strong within her now, that she could
feel them struggling to take control. All she had to do was allow them.
They were frightening impulses, like the predatory feeling she had
allowed to manifest in her relationship with her young friend on the
transport ship. There was something unnatural in these feelings, but they
were very much a part of her now.
" Fuck these, " she told herself, pulling away the tight lace panties,
and push-up bra she was wearing. Cute and feminine wasn't what she was
looking for right now. She replaced the bra with a more practical sports bra
from her bag. She didn't bother with panties under the flight suit. No need.
Taking control felt good. India took a moment to wash away her make-up,
and fix her hair into a pony-tail. A glance in the mirror told her that she
looked younger this way, almost like she had when she first enrolled in
Harvard. It was strange to connect herself to that girl, who had joined the
political science department with such idealistic views. India felt entirely
detached from those ideals now.
She tucked her hair through the back of a baseball cap, and pulled the
rim down to shade her face. Still a bit girlish, but it would have to do for
now. She headed back out to where Moses was waiting.
They walked together to a lounge near the docking centre.
" Well, if it ain't Holy Moses, back from the crusades, " one of the
other pilots kidded him. " And who's your sidekick ? A nun of the Jeredites,
I suppose. Or a nun from the Franciscan order, perhaps. "
" None of the above, actually. You're just as ignorant as you look, Vic.
India is learning to be a pilot. I've agreed to help her along. "
" More charity work, or are you getting a little something in the way of
compensation ?" The half-drunk man leered suggestively.
" Shove off, Vic. "
Moses led the way to a corner booth in the lounge. The seats and tables
were red and yellow plastic, and it only took India a moment to figure out
that this had once been a fast food restaurant. Part of the menu board still
flickered above the counter. Today, the only nutrition served here was from
the bottom of a beer bottle.
Perhaps it was a step up, nutritionally speaking, she noted ironically.
India scanned the room carefully, the hardware inside her head capturing
every moment. It was expensive equipment that allowed her to scan and store
information at this kind of resolution. She could later review and edit the
images internally, only sending it back to McPhail in completed form.
The first thing that struck her was the absence of women. Sure, there
were serving girls and prostitutes. But amongst the pilots and mercenaries,
there were very few women at all.
" Strange, " she told Moses softly.
" Hmm. "
" Somehow, I thought there would be more women here. Anywhere else, more
than half the union pilots are women. "
" Some women come here to pilot. Not many stay. Some even come as
want-to-be mercenaries. They're kidding themselves. It's a man's game being
played out here. "
" And they won't let us girls play along ?"
" Oh, sure they will... for a while. Look across from us here. See the
young girl near the washroom doors... she's new here. Probably just came in
today. "
The girl was much more familiar than Moses could have guessed. India
could still savour the beautiful red marks she had given to the French
girl's body this morning. India didn't bother to interrupt the pilot's
narration, however.
" She's dressed for battle. It's all brand new gear. That's a lovely
rifle she's carrying too. " The long barrel gleamed a polished black, and
was slung around one arm. Yes, India remembered, Sylvia was quite proud of
that rifle. She had saved for months.
" It's a shame, " Moses continued. " She's hooked up with Peter Koska,
one of the darkest souls I've ever come across. Maybe she even heard about
his reputation before coming here. The silly girl thinks she's a match for
him. She want to be his prot g . His successor. "
" And you don't think it'll happen ?"
" Not a hope. It might take him a while, but he will break her. She's
just an amusement to him, and he'll enjoy using her up. "
India knew the feeling. A mild sting of guilt tickled at the back of her
neck for her own role in corrupting the girl. There was a little taste of
jealousy too. Maybe there was even an urge to protect the girl from her own
folly. But India let these feelings pass until all that was left was an
enjoyable throbbing of predatory arousal.
" One more question... " India started, for the first time really
noticing the calm focus of her companion. His manner spoke of an
intellectual life not visible in the other men here.
" Anything. "
" That man called you Holy Moses. What's that about ?"
" I've been known to try to save a few souls. "
" But not today ?"
The freelance pilot gave a half-smile, and glanced sideways around the
room. " Nothing much worth saving today. "
*****
The loading dock here was cold. So very cold.
Environmental controls on this substation had been off-line for more than
an hour. Moses could just about see the moisture in the air turning into a
light frost on every surface.
Still no sign of India. Against his better judgement, she had gone in to
survey the battle damage. He knew better than to try to hold her back. If he
refused, she would just find another pilot who was more willing to serve her
whims.
Moses didn't know where it would end. India seemed determined to see
every ugly centimetre of this war. Twice before, she had gone off alone. The
first time, it was in a refugee camp on Panama station. A human interest
story, she had told him. Moses offered to come along, but India had refused.
She wanted to blend in.
And she did.
When she later returned to the barge, Moses didn't recognize her for a
moment, so completely had she adopted the clothing and manner of these
displaced people.
The second time had been at a makeshift brothel near the front line.
" I can't tell you how awful a place like this can be, " he had begged
her.
The cry of a young girl from within accentuated his point. The girl had
probably lived on this station with her family, until the war came. Now her
life was only worth her hourly fee she could earn before her body was worn
out.
" All the more reason why I should see it first-hand, " India had
responded. She stepped up close to Moses, and reached down inside of his
flight suit. The close physical contact sent shivers through Moses' body.
" I'll take this," she told him, withdrawing his handgun.
He saw it in her eyes. Excitement. Arousal. Then she disappeared into the
darkness and stench of the brothel.
When she had returned that night, she crawled into bed with Moses, too
drunk to climb into her own bunk. She filled the tiny space with the odours
of drugs and alcohol, and her body smouldered with the afterglow of sex. She
had giggled to herself when Moses climbed out of bed and took her bunk
instead. This was her idea of fun.
And now she had disappeared into the twisted corridors of this embattled
mining substation, while the systems failed one by one. The heavy equipment
in the loading bay could be heard groaning and crackling with the sudden
temperature drop. Soon, it would become too cold to survive. Every agonizing
minute brought the temperature closer to the point where it would kill.
One more minute, Moses told himself three times.
Until what ? He wasn't going to leave her here, was he ?
Finally, he caught sight of her. India was running towards the ship from
a connecting passageway. A trail of tiny white crystals swirled through the
air behind her, the vapour in her breath freezing instantly.
Running ? Not smart. The cold would burn her lungs something fierce.
Nonetheless, she scrambled up the metal rungs, and collapsed into the
semi-warmth of the barge's cabin.
" We have to..." India puffed. " ...go! Now!"
The athletic brunette held herself steady against the exit hatch as Moses
began to fire the thrusters. The heavy wheels of the barge locked and
skidded on the icy floor of the loading dock. It was going to be hard to
manoeuvre into the air lock.
" Jesus, you're taking too long, " the girl gasped.
" Easy. If I don't do it right, we won't be leaving at all. "
The barge skidded to a crooked stop just past the inner doors of the air
lock. The machinery that controlled the locks ground into their noisy chore.
Moses sat motionless, waiting for the right moment to be able to clear the
outer doors.
" Go, " India urged.
" Not yet. "
" Go, goddamn it !"
" One second. "
When he finally hit the engines again, India fell backwards into the base
of the bunks. One of the wheels knocked against the outer lock door as it
pulled open, jarring the barge into a minor spin that Moses corrected
without letting up on the thrust.
India scrambled to her feet again when Moses steadied the craft, and
pulled herself up onto the navigator's seat.
" It's going to..." she began, but the substation revealed its secret
before she could give warning. A flash of light was followed by the first
wave of explosion debris. A rain of debris clattered against the barge's
hull. Glittering bits of metal filled space around the barge, sweeping
outwards faster than the barge could accelerate.
A few more impacts jarred the hull of the barge, as some of the larger
remnants of the station knocked against them.
Finally, as the debris field scattered out further, Moses removed his
shaking hands from the control panel. He looked to India for explanation,
but she was too busy pulling away her flight suit to appraise her wounds.
" Where did you get that, " he nodded to the large thermal coat she was
presently shedding.
" I took it from one of the casualties on the sub-station... it looked
warm. "
" And your wounds ?"
" He put up a bit of a fight, " India showed her perfectly straight teeth
in a chilling smile.
Moses shook his head in disbelief. " You took it from a survivor ?"
India shrugged. " As you can see, " she said, waving her hand at the
debris floating past the ship, " he wouldn't have been a survivor for long.
Help me with this cut, will you ?"
The cut on her side was deep. Moses was almost glad of it. If she felt no
remorse otherwise, she would at least bear a scar for her immorality.
Much like everything else about her, India's body was sculpted to
perfection. She stepped out of the flight suit and leaned against the wall
of the cabin while Moses checked the wound. Her tight belly rose and fell
rapidly as she worked to catch her breath.
" You'll walk away from this with your body intact, " Moses assured her,
pressing gently against the wound with a gauze pad, " but I don't make any
guarantees about your soul. "
" Are you waxing religious on me, Mo ?"
" I just don't see how you could do it, even to a dying man. "
" I would have died in there if I hadn't. You could see how cold it was
getting. Jesus, my face is still numb. If it would make you feel any better,
I could've lied to you about it. "
" You're changing on me, India. You're a different person every day. I
can't even keep up with it. "
Moses struggled for the words to explain it to her. It was like watching
the moods of the ocean. Maybe the anger of the storm was always there, under
the surface, but it was so easy to forget in the moments of calm.
The words wouldn't come. It didn't matter. She understood what he meant.
He could see it in her eyes.
India leaned against the wall as Moses tended to her injury. He set the
medical kit on the floor, and bandaged her from his knees, trying hard not
to inhale the perfume of her body. She stroked his hair absently as he
worked on her.
" India ?"
" Yes. "
" You didn't have anything to do with the explosion, did you ?"
She was silent for a moment. " No, " she answered finally, but without
much effort to conceal the lie.
*****
The lies were always there.
India knew from the start that Moses wasn't fooled. In truth, she didn't
try very hard to convince him. There was something comforting in the
pilot-seat sermons he would share with her when he was suspicious of her
actions. He talked to her about morality, and spiritual life, and all those
abstract topics she had left behind in first-year philosophy. She could
make herself agree with every answer he gave in those moments. Praise the
lord, and all that.
But that was a lie too. India could make herself believe anything, or
nothing at all, depending on how useful those beliefs were to her at the
moment. In the company of Moses, she would enjoy the silent moments in
spiritual contemplation with her morning coffee.
In the brothel, she had enjoyed the wicked taste of cruelty as she abused
the body of some unfortunate girl for her own pleasure. On the sub-station,
adrenaline burned in her lungs when she took a man's life for the first
time. Destroying the station gave her no guilt. It was simply a convenient
way of concealing the McPhail corporation's questionable financial interests
in the sector.
In the end, India had trouble knowing what she really believed herself.
It change from one moment to the next, according to her goals at the time.
And right now, her goal was a good beer buzz, and the comforts of another
body in her bed.
It had been two months since the last time Moses brought the barge back
to Shaw colony for repairs. It had been nearly six months from her first
time on this station, and much had changed.
Or maybe she just looked on it with different eyes now. No, it was
definitely changing.
" Hey sweetie, " she told the serving girl. " Bring me another two and
join me for a drink. "
For one thing, India didn't recall there being such a tasty young woman
serving drinks in this out-of-the-way tavern near the financial district.
The girl probably came in with the latest wave of opportunity seekers, ready
to cash in on the financial boom of the dwindling war effort. She seemed out
of step with reality here. In fact, the entire Shaw colony was a contrast to
what was happening all around it. In the heart of the war, this colony was
seeing prosperity.
The tavern had been mostly empty the last time India visited. It was just
a quiet place to sit back and splice together her footage before
transmitting back to McPhail. Now the place was full, both of patrons, and
the restless energy of a boomtown economy.
Talk was everywhere. The war had made ruin of most of the settlements in
this area of space. There was talk that the fighting would end soon. There
was talk about rebuilding, and all of the financial opportunities that would
come along with the effort.
But then, that was the whole point, wasn't it ?
The serving girl slid into a chair across from India. " You're India
Taggart, aren't you ?" she asked with a sly smile.
India nodded.
" Wow. I knew it was you. I saw some of your reports before we moved out
here. I'm Flea. I mean, Felicia, but most everyone back home calls me Flea.
"
" Where's home ?"
" New Holland colony. "
For some reason, the mention of the place gave India an unsettled
feeling. No matter. This was going well. The girl seemed impressed. And more
than willing to share a couple of drinks.
A moment of doubt crossed India's mind. The girl was innocent.
The moment was brief. As much as Moses preached to her about decency,
there was a dark part of herself that always guided her the other direction.
Recently, that dark part of herself had taken a solid form in her
imagination. The face was clear. It was McPhail's director of covert
operations, a woman with dark, intense eyes. Maura... or something. India
wondered why she had so much trouble keeping the name in her head.
India didn't remember exactly when she had met the woman. Perhaps she
never even had. But the memories were there nonetheless. It was this woman
who had ordered the implants that had so changed India's personality. It was
this dark-eyed woman who had left her at the mercy of the pale doctor at
Macau colony. And despite the vagueness of her recollections, India felt
connected to this woman. Almost like a sister. Maura.
Maura spoke of morality as a curse. It was a curse which India could feel
the complex electronic devices of Hiroshi Nagato suppressing in her own
mind. The expensive devices fed her impulses unobtrusively, through the
margins of her imagination.
Why ? A part of it must have been to make her an effective agent. Yes,
there was that. But there was more too. India felt like she could understand
the motives behind her employers a little bit, in those calm morning moments
alone with Moses on the barge. It would come to her eventually.
In the meantime, her appetite for this girl won over any doubts. It
wasn't a long seduction. India had no time for that sort of thing. If she
was going to be back to the battle lines before this war ended, they would
be leaving in the morning.
" Where are we going ?" Flea asked sweetly, holding India's hand as she
led.
It was a good question. India could well afford accommodations in the
more expensive districts of Shaw colony. But her arousal was leading her
elsewhere. She was taking her prize back to the place she had called home
for most of her days since being re-born. She was bringing Flea back to the
barge.
When in this kind of predatory haze, India rarely paused to question her
own motives. The only naughty explanation that popped into her mind was that
she wanted to show off her victory to Mo. His holiness would be shocked, of
course, and India would hear about it in the coming weeks, but right now,
the extra thrill of corrupting this girl in the bunk atop his seemed worth
the sermons.
It was late in the loading docks when India and Felicia scrambled into
the blue Sally Ann barge. India's body was already warmed by hours of
flirting and dirty thoughts. She pinned the younger girl against the wall of
the cabin, and sharpened her appetites by teasing Flea's lips with her
tongue.
Behind her, she knew that Moses was still awake. He would pretend
otherwise, of course, but he cared too much. He would never be able to sleep
until he knew she was all right. Now she could feel his eyes on her, and she
enjoyed the sensation.
This was as much for him as for her. He couldn't help himself, India
knew. In their time together, it was unavoidable that he had been treated to
a show of her body now and again. In fact, India made sure of it. Maybe it
was a mischievous reaction to his sermons. She loved to see him blush when
she caught him looking.
Now she was providing a little more to look at. Felicia was a beautiful
girl. Perhaps she was a bit skinny, but India liked her girls that way. She
continued to explore the girl's mouth with her tongue while she roughly
pulled at the clothing that separated their bodies.
Before the implants and physical modifications, India had never explored
her own sexual dominance. Beginning with the Quebecois girl, Sylvia, on the
trip over, and developing over the following months, India learned that she
was quite an aggressive lover.
" Oh my god, " Flea moaned through clenched teeth when India dropped to
her knees, and began to explore the folds of her pussy. India teased the
girl's clitoris with her tongue, and gave her just enough pleasure to keep
her pliant. With the right balance of alcohol and arousal, this cute na ve
girl would do anything.
Flea's reaction was just as audible, in the form of a yelp, when India
rose to her feet again, and twisted one of the young woman's hard nipples
between her fingers. " Follow me, " she order, pulling the captivated girl
towards her bunk.
" Hands on the bunk, " she ordered. Flea bent forwards, placing spreading
her arms to either side of India's top bunk. It gave India a wonderful
thrill to know that this young girl's body was only inches away from where
Moses was pretending to sleep in the lower bunk. Felicia wouldn't know it in
the darkness of the cabin, and India had no intention of spoiling the fun.
The commands were silent now. India guided the girl to parting her legs
and bending forward. India stood close behind her, and caressed her smooth
ass before taking the first slap. Flea jerked a little, but stayed in place.
A natural, India thought to herself. By this time, her blood was heated
with lust, and she could barely hold herself back. Another gentle touch, and
then another sharp blow with the flat of her hand. India dipped her hand
lower between the girls thighs, and reached forward to find her wetness. The
bar girl squirmed at the touch. Everything was perfect.
With her left hand, India took hold of the back of her lover's neck. It
was time for the real punishment to begin. The sharp report of flesh on
flesh sounded repeatedly in the small space of the cabin, each blow louder
than the last.
Flea stayed in place, frozen in the reporter's grip. India could feel her
body jerking with each new touch from behind, and knew the mixture of
pleasure and pain the girl must be feeling. For India, it was the feeling of
dominance... the taste of control. India wondered if Moses could taste it
too. He seemed so good at reading her feelings.
Finally, when the girl began to whimper a little, India eased off, and
slipped her hand between Felicia's thighs again from behind. The heat and
wetness told her exactly how much this girl enjoyed the game. This was going
to be a good night.
India patted the girl on the bottom, gently this time, urging her upwards
into the top bunk. Once the girl was up, India began to pull away her own
clothing. One more little show for Moses, before an evening of sounds to
fuel his imagination. India's head was already spinning with new ways to
corrupt this simple girl. And Moses would be forced to hear the whole thing.
Yes, it would definitely be a good night.
*****
' It's nearly nightfall here on the Philadelphian peninsula of Sudbury
colony, where today we have seen an almost complete collapse of the
Republican armed forces. This heavily populated colony, located on the outer
margin of the disputed territories, is believed to have been the final
stronghold of Republican support. Military analysts are predicting a quick
end to the hostilities in this region. '
The high resolution images seemed out of focus through the smoky haze
that settled over the pock-marked landscape of this battlefield. Moses
watched with amazement as the images were streamed in almost real time
through the communications equipment installed in the barge. He didn't know
how she could process the images and add her commentary so quickly after
arriving. There wasn't even a trace of unsteadiness in the view as India
climbed over the rubble in the streets.
' It's hard to believe that this was so recently a prosperous urban
centre, ' India narrated, with a sincerity that could almost have fooled
Moses himself. ' Mercenary forces swept through this heavily populated area,
seeking out units in the Republican military which had taken shelter in the
city streets. Civilian casualties number in the thousands. '
The footage was raw and explicit. Moses could hardly watch as India took
a close-up view the corpses of those who were caught in the crossfire.
Sporadic weapons fire could be heard in the distance, lending the illusion
of personal danger to India's reporting. In truth, Moses knew that her
safety was assured.
The McPhail corporation.
That's all anyone needed to know. Those official credentials had landed
them without a scratch in this horrible scene. Now, the reporter moved in
closer to the transport vessels of the mercenaries who had destroyed this
place.
' All that's left now is for humanitarian forces to move in and render
aid to the victims of this most recent atrocity. Above, I can hear the
transports of the McPhail corporation moving into position. These mercenary
forces are reluctantly re-boarding their vessels, taking with them what few
valuables they could salvage from this broken land. '
The images responded to India's dark commentary with a wide, darkened
shot of the heavily armed men as they loaded their gear aboard. Moses
watched the images float by on the screen inside the barge before they were
shot back towards civilization. There was an art to this. Moses could feel
India working her magic to fill the digital stream with emotions.
It was all bullshit. Maybe no one else would ever know it, but Moses
knew. Even in her darkest moments, Moses could read every emotion. It was a
skill he had practiced too well, and he sometimes wished that he could
abandon.
She was enjoying this. The excitement. The rush.
The screen shot tightened up now, focusing on one of the last groups of
mercenaries to leave the scene. Moses recognized the leader. Peter Koska.
His men worked together, loading some of the heavier pieces of salvage on
board their ships. Amongst them was the girl. Moses remembered her.
On the first day he met India, he had seen this girl too. He had
speculated on her fate in the war zone. In this chance meeting, he hoped
desperately that he had been wrong about her, but the screen images spared
no detail. The young girl wore no weapon. Koska proudly wore her rifle now.
She walked nearby him, still trying to play the part of his lieutenant, but
her belly was swollen with his baby now, a symbol for all of the other men
about who she belonged to.
Her eyes caught India's for a moment. Moses could feel the moment thought
the video screen. The young mercenary girl blushed with embarrassment at her
condition, and dropped her eyes to the ground as she followed Koska into his
vessel.
' It will be hours before the final casualties are counted. It will be
even longer before we know the full extent of the destruction on the Sudbury
colony. In a battle over territory, it's hard to imagine that this could be
considered a victory. Reporting for McPhail Media, I'm India Taggart. '
Almost on cue to the ending of her report, Moses could hear the roar of
the McPhail fleet descending on the battle zone. While the corporation
officially maintained neutrality in the dispute, this peaceful stance could
hardly be seen in the massive display of military force in this operation.
" My lord, " Moses said to India through is headset. " For humanitarian
aid, they sure seem armed to the teeth. "
He could see the men moving in through the video display from India's
position. She hadn't bothered to terminate the connection to the barge after
the broadcast. The images that were coming across now were only for his
benefit. The McPhail troops were in full combat gear, and began to secure
ground positions with military style accuracy.
" Take it easy, Mo, " India responded, with none of the sentimental tone
of voice she had used in her news report. " We're authorized to be here.
They won't fuck with us. "
" Nonetheless, maybe you should come back to the barge now, and we can
get out of here," Moses urged, not believing for even a second that she
would heed his advice.
India chuckled. " The sight of blood getting to you, Preach ? Hang on a
few minutes... I want to see some of the salvage effort. "
" Salvage ... ? I thought this was supposed to be humanitarian aid..."
For a moment, it looked like Moses was right. The soldiers began to
gather the live casualties in a central area. India moved in for a closer
look at the action. McPhail medics could already be seen moving through the
bodies, hard at work assessing the injuries.
But something was wrong. Moses could feel it. Once the actual field
surgery began, Moses was faced with the awful truth. These medics weren't
dispatched here to save lives. They were here to salvage organs. One by one,
the medics picked through the injured, sedating them long enough to make a
quick removal of undamaged organs.
Moses' heart rose to his throat in disgust as India sent every bloody
image back to the cockpit of the barge. Why was she showing him this ? He
didn't need to ask. He already knew. Just like the previous week when he had
witnessed her show of dominance over the young girl on Shaw Colony, India
was enjoying her moment of twisted exhibitionism. She knew how it would
affect him. She knew.
The screen flickered black and then green as Moses shut down the monitor.
Breathing heavily, he held his hands in his lap, and wondered what to do
next.
This forced the issue. For weeks... hell, for months he had seen what
India was becoming. He had prayed silently for the strength to hold onto
her. But now... this was too much. Moses knew the answer. He threw down his
headset, and began to work the controls of the barge. The engines began
their low howl into action.
" You can't leave me now, Mo, " India was right behind him. She had come
in so silently, it was almost inhuman.
" How did you... ?"
" As soon as you turned off your monitor, I knew you'd try to leave. "
Moses held onto the control panel, determined to leave this horrific
place. India shook her head in warning.
" I've left orders for McPhail gunners to destroy the barge if we leave
the surface. You know I won't let that happen. "
" Why don't you just let me go ? The war's over. You don't need me
anymore. "
India smiled. " After what you've seen here, I can't just let you leave
McPhail. "
" But it was you who sent those pictures back to me..."
" I did, didn't I ? How careless of me. "
Moses was feeling cornered. There was only a tiny chance that he could
pilot the barge safely through McPhail's artillery. And if he did it exactly
right, maybe he could accelerate quickly enough to knock India off of her
feet too. Once he was out in orbit, there was even less of a chance that he
could outmanoeuvre the McPhail fleet in open space.
Fuck it, he told himself, and punched the thruster control with his foot.
The barge lurched forward, but Moses could feel India descending upon
him. Damn, she was quick. Blackness closed in.
When his vision began to return, Moses found himself slumped against the
wall of the cabin. India was straddling his body, holding him in place with
her weight. In her hand was a syringe.
" They taught me a few things about the human body at Macau colony. Did I
ever tell you that they didn't use an anaesthetic when they gave me my
modifications ? I was painfully aware of everything they did to my poor
little body. All they did was keep me still. This is what they used, " India
tapped the side of the syringe with one finger.
" I'm going to give you a dose right now, Moses, " she continued, "
because I enjoy our little conversations. I wouldn't want to dull your mind
at all. At first, you'll feel your basic motor skills go bye-bye. Then you
won't be able to move at all. Hopefully you'll be able to keep talking for a
while, but I suppose that'll go too. But don't worry... you'll still be able
to hear me, see me, and even feel me. "
" Why ? Why did you decide to keep me ?" Her weight was still holding him
in position as the effects of the drug began to kick in.
" I could bullshit you, and tell you that I need your piloting skills.
Partially true. You're a fantastic pilot, and I'd love to keep you. I could
tell you that I'm concerned about how much you know about me. That's closer
to the mark. I don't like the idea that you've seen the way I've developed
these last few months. But mainly, I feel like we have a game to finish. "
" A game... this is a game to you ?" Moses tried to sound indignant, but
the words came out slurred.
" Of course it's a game. Ever since I joined McPhail, everything has been
a game. In covert operations, we fight with competing versions of the truth.
With you, it's always about moral truth. You think that there are absolutes.
I have a competing vision. I once thought like you do. But, you know that,
don't you ? " When he paused in responding, India held him by the hair, and
forced his limp head to nod in agreement. She seemed amused by this act of
puppeteering.
" Th-think about what they'rrre doinnng, " Moses tried to argue. " It's
jusss not r-right. "
" Have you ever been to Quebec City, Moses ?"
" Wha-what ?"
" Quebec City. I visited there with my family when I was younger. It's a
grand old city. Right there atop the highest plain, overlooking the St.
Lawrence, there was a battle hundreds of years ago. The fighting was so
fierce that two famous generals died on the field, one from each side. They
call the place the Plains of Abraham. "
Moses tried to shake his head, but his body wouldn't respond.
" What do you think it looks like today, Moses ? I'll tell you. It's all
manicured lawns and park benches. Somebody's always playing soccer, or bocce
ball, or whatever. Twice a year they hold a rock festival. You'd never know
what happened there. "
" You'rrre jussst jussstifyingg..."
" Of course I am. That's what I do. That's what makes us different. I
have a competing vision of moral truth, and it changes by the moment. That's
why we have to finish our game. Maybe you can still save my soul. I don't
know. But right now, I think I have a better chance of bringing you to my
way of thinking. "
India slid herself down on Moses' legs, and straddled his feet as she
lowered her face to his crotch. He could feel the pressure of her lips
through the fabric of his flight suit. Then there was warmth, as she forced
her hot breath through the garment.
" There we go. I told you that you'd be able to feel everything. "
Despite himself, Moses became hard from her attentions. She looked him in
the eyes and raised her body up before him. Slowly, she began to unbutton
the top of her flight suit.
" I finally figured out why they sent me here. I thought you might like
to know. I had to learn a lesson about salvation. Rebirth. "
He tried to avert his eyes, but they were drawn back to her with every
seductive move. India's perfectly sculpted breasts were so near him now. So
many times, he had caught glimpses of her in the dark of the cabin, and
chastised himself for his desire. Now that she was directing her sexual
attentions towards him, he could feel her sexual energy surrounding him.
" What do you think this war is about, Mo ? Ethnic conflict ? Border
disputes ? Bullshit. I mean, maybe there was a seed of truth there
somewhere, but in the end, it was cultivated by the interests of the
corporations and international unions. It's all about renewal. Rebirth.
Salvage. "
She was undressing his helpless body now. He could feel every touch of
her warm flesh against his. His body responded on its own. To be truthful to
himself, Moses wasn't sure that he would resist, even if he was in control.
India's body was so perfect and so close.
India had been his fantasy for so many nights, she had become a creature
of his imagination, her body idealized in his mind's eye. While she stroked
his bare chest with her hands, she continued her lesson.
" These colonies were existing on old technology. Functional, but old.
The colonies were stable and prosperous, but there was little growth. But
look at it now, Moses. It's a clean slate. The corporations pulled out
before the battles. So did the international governments. They opened this
place for the kind of destruction that only a full-scale war can bring. "
India stood and stripped away the remainder of her clothing now. She
turned slowly in front of her pilot, showing him the flawless curves that
were lent to her by the McPhail corporation.
Moses thought to protest one last time, but his voice wouldn't come. But
then, he wasn't even sure if he had really tried. She straddled his body
again, positioning herself above his hardened cock. He could feel the heat
from her pussy against his sensitive flesh.
" When the corporations come again, it's to take salvage. Everything is
profit. Human organs. Refugee workers. Used equipment for underdeveloped
regions. We even sell the armaments for battle. And when everything's done,
we begin with a clean slate here. Immigrants rebuild the colonies, buying
new equipment and infrastructure on land freed up by casualties. It's like a
gold rush. "
" It's such a terribly beautiful cycle, isn't it ?"
She lowered herself onto him, and around him. She wrapped her arms around
his thick shoulders, and pivoted her hips slowly, in a circular motion.
" Do you want me to stop, darling ? " she teased. If his body were able,
Moses knew he would be thrusting shamefully into her. She was too much for
him.
" That was my lesson, Preach. That was what I needed to see first hand,
so that I could understand what McPhail did with me. Nggg... that's nice, "
her erect nipples pressed into his chest as she took her pleasure on his
body.
" The Director of Covert Operations for McPhail knows all about salvage.
We're very similar creatures, and I think that's why she chose me. Our
aptitude tests were nearly identical. We both schooled at Harvard. We come
from similar family backgrounds. I know her name now. Maura. "
She seemed to savour the sound of that name on her lips. The movement of
her body against his was timed to a painfully slow rhythm that she was
savouring. She watched him for reaction, taking pleasure from this control
over her pilot.
" I also know she had a problem. Despite all her skills and instincts,
she was plagued by the morality of the choices she was forced to make. The
regrets just wouldn't disappear, despite all of her talents and resources.
So they started fresh with me. Isn't that beautiful ?"
The controlled circular sway of her body gave way to a quick, shallow
bounce against him.
" I'm the broken landscape, ready to be rebuilt. I'm becoming her. Maura.
It's a wonderful feeling. This time they got it right. They removed my
morality from the start, so that I'll never have remorse for my actions. And
now that my mind is receptive, she's coming to me. I'm awash in all of her
skills, all of her instincts, but I'm wiped clean of remorse. "
She held him tightly now, pressing her fingernails into his back. This is
what she enjoyed. It was the power she held. He had heard the way that India
had made the girl squeal in pain in the bunk atop his. Now India brought her
perfect bumble-bee stung lips to his ear, and closed her teeth around his
earlobe.
Her strokes were hard and fast.
" Aaaangh... it's so good, Preacher. It's all up here in my head. I know
can speak languages I've never even heard. I'm learning her talents for
manipulation and control. She'll lead me to new pleasures, and power I've
never dreamed of. Mmmmm.... aaaaah... she's coming into me, and it feels so
damned good. "
Her body began to buck wildly as she bit down hard against his ear. Moses
would have screamed himself if he had been able. Her nails clawed deeply
into his back, and he could feel her teeth breaking through the lobe of his
ear.
She rode his body mercilessly, riding the waves of her pleasure. Moses
watched her face as she came to orgasm, and could truly believe that there
was someone else within her now.
It took India a several minutes to slow herself down. Even though pain
was throbbing from the scratched on his back, and his damaged ear, Moses
knew that he was still hard within her. His balls ached in anticipation of
release.
India pulled her face away from his neck, and looked him in the eyes
again. Blood ran down one side of her mouth, and dribbled down her chin.
" Do you want to cum now, Moses ? Hmmm? If you do, I've won our game,
haven't I ? Give me a sign. "
But he couldn't. Some part of him wanted to scream yes. Yes, please give
me an orgasm. I'll be yours.
Another part of him cried out in revulsion. It's wrong. It's all wrong.
For a moment, he wasn't sure which answer his eyes had given her.
Finally, she pulled her heated body away from his glistening prick. " All
right, Moses. You win. I'll let you keep whatever faith you have left. Of
course, you understand that I can't let you reveal what you've seen here
today. No, that wouldn't do at all. "
Moses watched as she began to dress herself again. She wiped the blood
from her chin with a sly smile and a wink in his direction, before opening
the outer hatch of the Sally Ann barge. A group of soldiers could be heard
patrolling outside.
" Hey guys, " India called out to her colleagues, " there's one more for
salvage in here. "
---
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