Born Again

By Orestes

orestes007@hotmail.com
ftp.asstr.org/pub/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 
ftp.asstr.org/pub/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 protégé. 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 naïve 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. "

---

Comments can be forwarded to: orestes007@hotmail.com
All of my stories can be found at: 
ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Orestes
