Mars Daybreak Fan Fiction ❯ Haunting Past ❯ Chapter 10

Haunting Past

 

By: A-Z Mark II

 

Disclaimer: I think that Sony Computer Ent. and Bandai own Mars Daybreak - maybe.

 

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Chapter 10

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“Gram, Vess,” came Ester's voice, accompanying the shaking of their shoulders. “You need to come to the bridge right away,” said the First Officer as the two lovers blinked themselves awake. Focusing on the short Naval Witch, they sat up in the bed that they shared with the woman.

“What's wrong, Ester?” wondered Vess, stretching her arms as she waited for Gram to get out of bed so she could do likewise. Last thing she remembered was curling up with her man as she and Ester talked about possible strategies to deal with the secret base they had found. Now, Ester was waking them, herself in uniform, so she had likely been up for a while. Must be slipping, if she got out of bed without me waking, Vess thought to herself.

“We have been monitoring the news, and about a half hour ago, there was an all-channel news break,” explained the red-eyed girl to the lovers. She hadn't wanted to get out of bed, but she had shift that morning, so she had ever so carefully untangled herself from the two, dressing in the dark and slipping out of her shared cabin. It had not escaped her notice that she was sleeping better lately, her head on Gram's shoulder and as often as not, Vess's hand on her side, than she had been for longer than she could remember. “You need to see this,” she urged the two, turning for the hatch. “I'm going to wake Enora,” she said over her shoulder.

“What do you think has happened?” wondered Vess, stepping into her suit and wiggling her hips to settle the close-fitting body suit before tugging the zipper up to just above the level of her nipples. Taking her vest from Gram's outstretched arm, she grabbed his wrist, pulling him to her for a deep kiss. “Pity, too,” she breathed when she broke the kiss, “I was having a wonderful dream,” she purred. “You and I were in bed on the Hope, and you were taking me from behind…” her breath tickled his ear, causing his dick to snap to full stand.

“Vess!” he groaned, adjusting himself. She giggled, gently nipping at his earlobe.

“Consider that a promise, Gram,” she husked softly, her hand swiftly but lovingly caressing his hard member through his pants. Leering at her lover, she sauntered out the hatch, Gram following her as he awkwardly donned his own vest.

“I'll hold you to that,” he grinned at her, playfully giving her firm ass a smack. Vess flinched delightedly.

Meanwhile, Ester rapped her knuckles on the metal hatch of Sala's cabin, where the doctor shared room with Megumi and Enora. Opening the hatch, she found Sala asleep in her bed, sheet up to her chin, a peaceful smile on her face. Looking to the other bed, she found Enora sharing room with Megumi, the two back-to-back. Carefully moving over to Enora's side, Ester reached down and shook Enora's shoulder. “Enora, wake up,” whispered the First Officer. Seeing no immediate signs that the teen was waking, she shook Enora again. “Come on, Enora, you need to wake up,” she whispered calmly. The teen began to stir. Beside her, Megumi stirred as well. With a final gentle shake, Ester withdrew her hand, seeing Megumi's eyes open in the dim light.

“Ester?” mumbled Enora, yawning. Beside her, Megumi's eyes opened. “What's up?” wondered Enora, more awake than a moment ago.

“Something has happened,” murmured Ester. “Come to the bridge,” she said, easing back so Enora could swing her feet out of the bed. Enora smothered a yawn as she carefully stood, re-tucking the sheets around Megumi, giving the young girl a smile.

“It's ok, Megumi,” she whispered. “Get a little more sleep,” she suggested. Megumi nodded, her eyes closing as Enora took an extra moment to tuck her in. Ester, eyes adjusted to the dim light, watched the girl change. Unlike her last stay on the ship, Enora had been able to bring her luggage along. Instead of borrowing a pair of pajamas from Sala, she was sleeping in a loose tee-shirt that stopped right about at the crest of her hips, revealing a pair of loose-fitted silk panties.

Tugging the shirt off, Enora draped it over the foot of the bed, leaving her naked except for her tied-on panties. After straightening the panties, Enora grabbed her shorts, stepping into them easily, in spite of the darkness. Buttoning the shorts, she grabbed her shirt, tugging it on before tucking it under her shorts. With her shirt and shorts squared, she stepped into her shoes, swiftly tying them before straightening. “Ready when you are,” she whispered to the woman beside her.

When the two reached the bridge, they found Gram and Vess waiting for them. Seeing that the last of the key personnel had arrived, Elizabeth told MAKI to play the news footage. The main screen went black, then came up with a large view of the broadcast. “In a shocking display of terrorism, a group of pirates has attempted to assassinate Mars Administrator Anna Grace,” the anchor woman - Elizabeth recognized her as the same anchor woman who had covered their own attempted execution - fanned the flames.

“Were it not for the courageous intervention of Mars Defense Force troops and Earth Forces personnel, they might well have succeeded,” she opinioned. “As of yet, there has been no official word from Earth Forces or Mars Defense Force about the details of the incident, but what information is available indicates that it was likely an attempt at retribution by the Ship of Aurora, or perhaps another act of senseless terrorism by the Ship of Hope, whom you will recall, sank the city-ship Taklen on the frontier before attacking Morgan Drift city-ship. Fortunately, the savage pirates were beaten back - some say sank - by the heroic effort of the Sheriff of Morgan Drift and the Mars Defense Forces patrol ship Long Bow,” the anchor woman paused, her face mournful. “Sadly, the courageous crew of the Long Bow gave their lives in the fight. Let us all pause now to commemorate their gallant and selfless act.”

“MAKI, freeze video,” directed Elizabeth. “That woman makes my teeth hurt,” snarled the captain.

“Propaganda again,” noted Vess. Strange, how they are so brazen about it, she worried. “And they are really stepping up the rhetoric, too,” she noted.

“Well, elections on Earth are only eight and a half weeks away now,” shrugged Enora. I need to get in touch with papa, she thought, worried. Gram was silently staring off into space, obviously thinking about something.

“Captain,” said Ester, “who do you think was really behind this?” she wondered. Elizabeth shook her head.

“Honestly, there are too many factions that would profit from this to be sure, but the only thing that is certain is that it is part of the enemy plan.”

“MAKI, play the rest,” said Gram. Obligingly, the AI did as asked, the footage resuming.

“Sources inside the military have indicated that an official request for further aid from Earth is expected shortly from the office of the Administrator. After such a blatant terror act, it is clear that these pirates are the single greatest threat that face Mars, and since the Mars Defense Forces - who have given nothing but their very greatest effort so far - have been unable to curb them, our allies on Earth are going to come to our rescue.

“We have tried to contact someone from the Mars Defense Force about how large a force is being requested, but so far, none of the officers have had any information on that, citing the need for a meeting with the Administrator or her temporary replacement. We were, however, graciously granted a meeting with the Earth Forces Admiral of the Martian Fleet, and he graciously gave us what information he had on the matter. According to him, the reinforcements would likely consist of two squadrons of fast attack destroyers, six companies of elite Special Forces, and significant supplies to mount and sustain an aggressive campaign against the pirates of Mars,” the anchor woman almost gushed in excitement.

“MAKI, pause it,” said Gram. Glancing at Vess, he gave her a crooked smile. “Funny how he seems to know more about a request that hasn't been made yet than the one who is supposedly making the request,” he noted. Vess nodded.

“And according to the current configuration of deployment laws, that deployment profile would require the approval of the Assembly of Representatives,” she frowned. “though, not the President's signature,” mused the blonde. “It could be done through the armed services administration committee,” she considered.

“Lauren sits on that board!” exclaimed Enora. In her hand, her PCD was cranked up and she was making notes. “I knew it! He's the man running this show!” she crowed.

“That may be a premature conclusion, Enora,” cautioned Ester. “I agree that he is involved up to his eyeballs, but we don't have enough pieces to conclusively identify the mastermind,” she admonished.

“What?” gaped Enora. “Every time we run into something, he's there!” she insisted. “Just like last time,” she pointed out.

“Actually, Enora,” chimed in Elizabeth, “last time, all the strings that we could see were being pulled by Poe, not Lauren.”

“And it turned out to be Poe's idea,” added Ester. “Lauren just changed the terms at the last moment,” she explained. Poe got burned bad on that deal, but he deserved it, trying to sacrifice us! she thought angrily. Her eyes fell on Gram, her anger dying. But Gram was there for us, she thought, feeling her cheeks color slightly, her belly tingling.

“Something wrong, Ester?” wondered Enora, seeing the color on the Naval Witch's cheeks.

“No, nothing,” denied the short woman, turning to face MAKI's display. Enora's eyes narrowed slightly in thought. Her thoughts were interrupted by Gram's hand landing on her shoulder. Blinking, she looked over to see Gram smiling at her.

“Enora, I need you and Vess to get together and figure out what the unit assignments would be for what he said he expected, then check it against the data you and Rosetta gathered. Once you do that, I think it is time to talk with some people,” he said.

“O…of course, Gram!” she agreed immediately. Her shoulder tingled where his hand touched her. Oh, god! she thought, the tingling spreading through her body to settle in her groin area.

“What are you thinking, Gram?” wondered Captain Elizabeth. Gram smiled at her.

“I think we will find that most of the listed gear is sitting in that base we found,” he explained. Captain Elizabeth frowned.

“I don't know, Gram,” she disagreed. “We didn't see enough space for the destroyers, and he specifically said `significant supplies', didn't he?” she wondered.

“Correct,” Vess stepped in. “However, the destroyers are likely already almost complete somewhere - likely Gate city-ship's military yards - and the people who are going to crew the ships and execute the mission have been practicing for at least a few months now, based out of that forward operating base,” she explained. “It's classic covert-ops strategy,” she added.

“I see,” murmured Captain Elizabeth. Having Vess along is proving to be more helpful than I had imagined it would be, she reflected. Looking forward, she saw that MAKI was patiently holding the recording. “Well, from here on, it is just more anti-pirate ballyhoo,” she said. “Unless you want to find out how evil, villainous and black-hearted you are, it isn't worth watching,” she said. “No more details were given, and other than stirring the fires, it's all just propaganda.”

“Well, they have already said what they have to say,” shrugged Gram. Looking at Vess, he absently touched her cheek. “Sorry, Vess,” he said, “but it looks like we're back where we started more than a year ago,” he apologized. Vess smiled back.

“Not really, Gram,” she replied. “We're together, aren't we?” she asked. Seeing his nod, she nodded in response. “These idiots are going to regret what they have done,” she promised him. Gram nodded once more.

“Yes, Vess,” he confirmed, “they will.”

-

“Ok, class,” said the instructor as the chime sounded. “That's all for this evening. For your homework, I want to see you come up with a plan for the scenario we were discussing. It must include a population growth allotment of at least six percent per year, have a working span of at least ten years, and take into account the balance of the city-ship. Furthermore, I expect to see the concerns of electrical, water and ballasting capacity addressed,” he directed. There were a few groans from the class of about ten, but Bon wasn't one of the groaners. “Well, I will see you the evening after next, then,” the instructor said, exiting the small classroom at the edge of the aboriginal settlement.

Quickly gathering his notes and laptop, Bon glanced at the clock, seeing that Shie would be getting ready for bed by now. His stomach growled. Guess I'll stop off and grab something from that small deli, he decided, standing and turning to face the door.

“Hey,” came an unexpected voice from behind him. “Your name's Bon, right?” Glancing behind him, he saw a young aboriginal girl smiling at him.

“Yeah, I'm Bon,” he said, taking in her traditional outfit. Dark hair, cut to shoulder length, brown eyes, and skin about a shade darker than his own, she stood several inches taller than him, though nearly everyone did. “Can I help you?” he asked.

The girl giggled. “Matter of fact, that was exactly what I was going to ask you for,” she said. Seeing his look, she expanded on her reply. “Help with the material, I mean,” she explained. “You have the highest marks so far, and really seem to enjoy the classes. I love the material, but I'm having a hard time getting everything sorted out in my mind,” she admitted. “Do you think we could study together?” she asked him, winking at him playfully.

“Uh, sure,” he replied, caught off guard. “What's your name?” he wondered. The girl smiled.

“I'm Varona,” she greeted him. He offered her his hand, and she took it.

“Good to meet you, Varona,” the young man said. “I was about to grab something to eat,” he explained. “Care to join me?” he offered. Years of studying Gram and Vess had given him a sort-of idea of how to handle a girl. She smiled.

“Sure,” agreed the girl. Together, the two moved out of the school house and down the street to the small deli, which stayed open a lot later than most. Getting some simple sandwiches, the two sat down at a small, intimate booth. Over the meal, Bon and Varona got to know each other a bit better. “So, you live in the settlement, right, Bon?” she asked him.

“Yeah,” he answered, taking a bite. Once it was swallowed, he went on. “How did you know that?” he wondered. She smiled.

“I've seen you walk home a few times,” she admitted. Bon made the logical jump.

“You live in the settlement, too, don't you?” he confirmed. She nodded.

“My family lives in the east district,” she said. Bon tried to recall the exact layout of the settlement. “Our house is closest to the cliff,” she explained, helping him.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “I live in the upper section, overlooking the cliff and the settlement,” he replied. The girl blinked.

“Really?” she wondered. “You don't look like an aborigine,” she mused.

“Why are you surprised?” wondered Bon. Is something wrong with where Gram's house is? he wondered. Sometimes, Granny Garma's sense of humor got the better of her. Varona gathered her thoughts.

“It's not surprise, exactly,” she said. “it's just that the upper areas of the settlement are reserved for tribal leaders, and you don't look like a tribal elder,” she explained. “Is your father an elder? Or maybe your mother?” she wondered. Bon shook his head.

“No, I was born on Ardena, actually,” he explained. “I lived in Undertown, along with my sister. We're orphans, you see.” Varona hummed.

“So, you worked your way here?” she guessed. Bon shook his head.

“No,” he replied, “we have these friends, Gram and Vess,” he began the story. Ten minutes later, Varona's jaw was on the table.

“You…you're living in the chief's house?!” she gasped. Bon nodded.

“Yeah, that's what Granny Garma calls Gram,” he replied, a little confused by her shocked expression.

“You are familiar with Granny Garma, as well?” wondered the girl, clearly stunned. “The Granny Garma?” she pressed.

“Little shorter than me, white hair, wicked sense of humor? Yes,” he confirmed.

“I…I had no idea!” she breathed. “Please, forgive my forwardness,” she added. ducking her head briefly.

“What's wrong, Varona?” wondered Bon. This is odd, he reflected, no one has reacted this way to me before.

“Nothing is wrong, really!” she assured him hastily. “It's just that I never thought that I would be talking with a chieftain,” she blushed. “I should have worn my best dress,” she said to herself. Bon absently chewed the last of his sandwich.

“Um, ok,” he replied after a pull of water. “How about we change the topic?” he suggested. Seeing her nod, he took the path of least resistance. “So, do you have family here?” he wondered. The girl's relief was obvious as the conversation turned to herself.

“Yes,” she answered him. “My parents, younger brother and cousin live with me,” she explained. “It's a little crowded, but relaxing, too,” she smiled to herself.

“Younger brother?” wondered Bon. She nodded.

“The brat just turned ten last month,” she shared.

“So, how old are you?” he wondered, trying to gauge her age visually. She blushed.

“I'm seventeen,” she admitted. Bon nodded.

“I see,” he said. About my age, then, he thought to himself.

“It's just that I wanted to complete school first, that's all!” she hastily added. Bon blinked at her.

“First?” he echoed. Varona nodded.

“I know I'm cutting it close, but I always wanted to do something important with my life; something to help all of us,” she added.

“That's fine, I guess,” replied Bon, lost. I don't think she and I are having the same conversation, he suspected. Varona slumped a little in relief.

“So, um, you mentioned a sister?” she asked him. Bon nodded, smiling.

“My kid sister,” he confirmed. “Her name is Shie, and she's about ten; or so we guess,” he corrected.

“You aren't sure?” wondered Varona. Bon shrugged.

“Orphans,” he reminded her. “I sort of remember mom, but no one ever got around to tell us when we were born, so Gram and Vess sort of guesstimated our age,” he dismissed the topic. “Shie loves the school in the settlement,” he added happily. “Back on Ardena, we didn't have a way of going to school, so it's all new to us.”

“You never went to school?” gaped Varona. “But, where did you learn all the stuff you know?” she wondered. Bon shrugged once more.

“Learned it mostly from Gram,” he said. “Also, I picked up stuff working what jobs we could find,” he added. “I always had a knack for machinery and planning, I guess,” he dismissed his skills. “Whatever it took to keep bread on the table.” Honestly, though, he admitted to himself, it was mostly Gram and Vess that did that for us.

“Excuse me,” came the voice of the shop owner, “but if you two are done, I need to get cleaned up and closed for the night,” he said apologetically. Bon blinked, realizing that the two of them had been talking together for nearly an hour.

“Sorry!” he said, dropping the credits for the meal in the man's hand. “Ready, Varona?” he asked her. She swiftly stood.

“Of course, Bon,” she replied. Together, they exited the diner. Moving down the road that lead to the settlement's smaller entrance, the two saw that practically no lights were on in the city-ship or the settlement, save for a few street lights here and there.

The two were inside the settlement before Bon realized that they had never gotten around to discussing the homework. “Oh, hey, Varona,” he said unexpectedly, causing the girl to flinch a little. “We didn't get around to talking about the homework,” he said. Varona sucked in a breath.

“You're right!” she realized. “And I have work for most of tomorrow, too,” she sighed.

“Well, if you're not too tired, we can talk about it tonight; at least get some sort of general plan put together,” he offered. Varona blushed.

“I'd like to,” she said, “but my family is asleep by now, and there isn't room in my house to talk about homework without disturbing them.”

“So, we'll talk at my place,” he said off-handedly. “Shie's asleep by now, but if we don't make too much noise, we won't disturb her, and the living room is large enough for our laptops,” he noted. Varona blinked at him.

“You'd let me into the Chief's house?” she breathed reverently. “We won't disturb Chief Gram, will we?” she asked him. Bon shook his head.

“No, of course not,” he assured her. “They're…on a ship at the moment, in any event,” he explained. “For now, it's me and Shie there,” he continued. “Matter of fact, it'd probably be easier if we just studied together at my place,” he suggested. Varona felt her heart-rate increase.

“But, what if Chief Gram comes back unexpectedly?” she worried. Bon shrugged.

“Gram isn't the kind to mind,” he assured her. “So? How about it?” he asked her. She nodded.

“I…if you're sure, Bon,” she agreed. He nodded.

“Of course I'm sure, Varona,” he said warmly, grinning at her. Together, the two made their way to the chief's house. When they reached it, Varona diffidently followed Bon inside.

Touching the light switch, Bon found - as he had expected - that Shie was sleeping in their bed. Setting his stuff down on the couch, he tossed his head at Varona. “Go ahead and put your stuff down,” he directed her, “I'm just going to check on Shie,” he explained, quietly stepping into the bedroom he and Shie shared. Seeing that Shie was happily asleep, he covered her with the blanket, closing their door to the bathroom and the curtain that separated the bedroom from the rest of the house. “Sleeping nicely,” he assured his guest.

“That's good,” breathed Varona. I'm in the Chief's house! she babbled to herself. “This is a nice place,” she offered. Her eyes spotted the empty second bedroom. “Um, is that…?” she trailed off. Bon glanced at her, seeing where she was looking.

“Yeah, that's Gram and Vess's bedroom,” he confirmed. “If you need to use the bathroom, just go into their bedroom and turn to the right,” he added, opening up his laptop. “So, where should we start?” he asked her. Varona gulped, carefully sitting down beside him.

-

Anna Grace irritably scratched along her splinted wrist. She had been in the hospital for three days, and in addition to the inactivity driving her nuts, the itching from the healing cuts and breaks were heightening her discomfort. Her face itched from all the stitches, bandages and bio-bandages that covered it. She really, really wanted to scratch that itch, but forced herself not to, knowing that it would be counter-productive. “Damn it,” she snarled forcing her hand away from the reddened flesh at the edges of her immobilized wrist.

“Problems, Administrator Grace?” came the familiar voice of Captain Doolittle. The Mars Administrator grimaced at her co-conspirator.

“If I don't get out of here soon, I'll go mad,” she gritted out. Doolittle blandly locked the door behind him. “Did you manage it?” asked the woman. Doolittle nodded, pulling out a small pocket media player.

“Yes, ma'am,” he said, pressing play. “Is this the collection you wanted?” he asked as the device burst in some of the most appalling sounds to ever slander the label `music'. Anna winced, covering her ears.

“God damn, Doolittle!” she cursed. “Do you compose this stuff yourself?!” she accused. Note to self: find out where this came from, and ban it - forever!

“I'm hurt, Administrator Grace,” came Doolittle calm reply. “I'm told this is the latest craze,” he replied. Anna made a worse face. “As for the other matter, yes, I addressed it,” he said, barely audible to Anna.

“And?” she asked immediately, suddenly all business. Doolittle shrugged.

“He agreed to the general plan, but I have no idea if he's going to be able to pull out something like that,” he answered. “More to the point, I can't say that I trust him, ma'am.”

“I don't trust him, Doolittle,” Anna cut in crisply, “but I am sure that we can trust his ambition to steer him in the direction we want him to go,” pointed out the woman.

Doolittle inclined his head. “Politics are your area, Miss Grace,” he side-stepped the issue. “My main concern is rather or not he can pull it together,” he mused aloud. “After the Aurora incident, he has credibility problems with the pirate factions,” he worried. Anna had thought about that often.

“True,” she admitted, “but he can always buy good favor if he has to,” she suggested. God knows that most of the pirate crews are anyone's whores if you stuff enough money in their palm, she thought viciously. Well, maybe not the Aurora, she amended the thought. That ship is unlike any other on Mars, pirate or military!

“Perhaps,” was the non-committal reply from her MDF partner. “He passed along a bit of news you might find interesting,” he continued. “It seems that Kuberness dropped out of sight three weeks ago.”

“Dropped out of sight?” echoed Anna. Doolittle nodded.

“No one has seen or heard from him in three weeks, and while he has done stuff like this in the past, our mutual friend thinks this time is different.” After a pause, Doolittle added his own take on things. “It could be the payoff of our bait,” he suggested.

“If it is, what took him so damned long?” worried Anna. Damn renegade, she cursed the lone wolf angrily. Once more, Doolittle shrugged.

“Can't say,” he replied casually. “Has the good Admiral come back yet?” he asked the woman. She frowned.

“No, not yet,” she answered him. “I'm a little suspicious about why I have been fortunate enough not to have to deal with that pompous ass,” she confided. Doolittle slowly nodded.

“Nothing has come through official channels, but I'll take a stroll after supper and see what I can see,” he offered. Anna jerked her head in a nod.

“Do that,” she seconded. “And see if you happen to hear anything outside channels from Earth, too,” she added. Doolittle nodded.

“Of course,” he agreed. I was going to do that anyway, he left unsaid. “Abbott says to tell you `hi',” he recalled a mental note. Anna blinked.

“How is he doing?” she asked, her tone tinged with what guilt she was capable of. I hadn't even thought about him since the incident, she recalled. Doolittle gave his `boss' a small smile.

“Recovering nicely, from what I can see,” he said. “I drop by every so often to let him know that you are doing fine as well. His doctor says that he is making a beautiful recovery and will be back to work for you within two months,” he added.

“Two months?!” sputtered Anna angrily. “I'm leaving here day after tomorrow, and he's going to lounge around here for two months?!”

“The doctors are worried about secondary infections or his re-opening the wounds due to job exertions,” the portly Captain shared with the woman.

“Job exertion?” she asked icily. “He's a miserable personal assistant, for crying out loud! It's not like he's a ship-yard worker or a bus boy!” she complained.

“It's the doctor's call, ma'am,” Doolittle delicately reminded her. “And they feel that his job is far more strenuous and dangerous than most professions, due to his position as your personal assistant,” he gingerly stepped around the issue. Anna frowned.

“What do I have to do with it?” she asked her military contact. It's not like I'm hard to work for or anything, she thought to herself. Doolittle debated answering that or just letting it slide. Being a pragmatic man, he let it slide.

“In any event,” he re-directed the conversation, “I was able to finally find the report on the Long Bow.” Anna's mind abandoned the topic of Abbott and his cushy job.

“And?” she demanded. Doolittle chose his words carefully.

“The incident report I found in the official file reflects that it was sunk by the Ship of Hope at the battle of Morgan Drift, but for some reason, its last patrol route report indicated that it shouldn't have been within two days of that city-ship.”

“Well, they did call in an emergency, didn't they?” asked Anna. Doolittle nodded.

“Oh, the report reflects that an emergency call came through, and the Long Bow responded,” he agreed. Anna frowned.

“What aren't you saying, Captain?” she asked him suspiciously.

“I found a report about a sunken pirate vessel outside Ardena, near the Long Bow's last patrol route. I checked the logs, and the serial number on the hull happens to match the Long Bow's SHIELD hull serial. Also, there was a paper report drifting around the base that states that the request from Morgan Drift came through non-emergency channels less than a day before the battle, so even if the message had been sent directly to the Long Bow, the ship couldn't have arrived at the scene when the official report says it did. And finally, I happened to hear a rumor about Earth Forces troops seemingly disappearing randomly.”

“You have been busy,” muttered Anna. “Units? Locations?” she asked hopefully. Doolittle shook his head.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “My Elites are cutting into my free time of late,” he shrugged. “But, I did happen to discover that a up-and-coming Naval Lieutenant from Earth Forces went AWOL a week ago - apparently with his entire patrol ship,” he added.

“Your Elites?” wondered Anna. Doolittle waved his hand.

“Figure of speech, Anna,” he dismissed it. “Nothing to worry about there,” he assured her. The cat finally died, having been strangled long enough. “Well, I'm glad to hear you're feeling better, Administrator Grace,” he said, turning for the door. “I'll see you later, ma'am,” he said, closing the door. He was half-way back to his office before he remembered that he had forgotten to tell her about the disappearance of the Aurora, as well.

-

“No doubt about it, this is a hot stock,” gushed the broker into his phone. “I expect a net gain of more than fifteen percent in the next six months!” he bragged. “Now's the time to get in while the market is slack, so you can make the most profit on the turn,” he pontificated. “So, there are currently three thousand shares and change available, at a ridiculously-low twelve hundred credits a share; how many do you want?” he pushed his sale.

“All of it,” came the voice of his client. The broker almost wet himself in excitement.

“Well!” he cheered, “you certainly aren't scared to go big,” he congratulated his client. “I've optioned them, and as soon as you transfer the amount to the firm's purchase account, they are yours, my friend!”

“Account number?” came the bored reply from the phone. The stock trader reeled it off, and moments later, more than three point six million credits were deposited. Already counting his commission, the broker hardly even thought about the request that the client made about arranging a buy-out of the other shares of stock. Making a small note, he bid his client good day.

Half-way across Mars, the new majority-owner of the second largest mining consortium on Mars leaned back. “Display new assets graph,” he directed his mechanical crewman. Obligingly, the robot did as instructed. Intently, the man studied it. “Yes, this can be done,” he confirmed to himself. It was risky, but risk and he were old friends; after all, you didn't become - arguably - the most feared pirate on Mars without a high tolerance for risks of all sorts.

“Connect me to the manager of my hotel chain,” he ordered the robot.

“Connecting,” replied the mechanical, tinny voice of the robot. A moment later, the channel opened. As was his habit, he locked out the video feed, and had a voice modification program running over the audio channel.

“Sunrise Hotel and Casino, head office, Senior Manager speaking,” came the hurried and distracted answer.

“It's me,” growled the man.

“What do you want, boss,” came the unimpressed reply. “I have a lot to do and you're wasting my time,” added the man curtly. A sardonic smile touched the pirate's lips.

“Your time is my time,” he reminded the other man.

“Then stop wasting it,” shot back the first. “What do you want?”

“You will be receiving information on a proposed merger with a company later this week. Smooth the paperwork, and get it done and set by the end of next month, no matter what it takes,” directed the `silent partner'. “Also, I need you to start acquiring storage facilities for increased inventory of food and medicines, to be purchased through fronts and shelled around before being stockpiled,” he added.

“How much of a pile?” asked the man, his eyes off to the side of the video camera feed from his end.

“Say, about sixty metric tons,” replied the pirate, off-handedly. The other man didn't bat an eyelash.

“It means reducing the stockpile of trade items,” he warned.

“Not a problem,” confirmed the other. “In fact, the last week of this month, I want you to flood the market with the secondary supply caches - even if it means a heavy loss,” he directed. “Take the funds from that and roll it into liquid assets in the slush accounts; there should be blood in the streets before too long, and we need to be ready to buy real estate,” he smiled coldly to himself.

“Indeed,” was the bored reply from his manager. “I wonder if it will be your blood, though,” he idly suggested. The pirate shrugged, though the other couldn't see it.

“One never knows until the moment it happens,” he philosophized grandly.

“Anything else?” asked the other man.

“No, not at the moment,” said the pirate, ending the call. Considering the situation in silence, he reviewed his battle strategy. “Interceptor,” he address his robot, “have we found out anything new from the taps?” he asked.

“Negative, Master,” replied the robot. “Increased encryption on the military back-channels are making it impossible to break in, and with the assassination attempt on Administrator Grace, there is virtually no traffic on the official diplomatic channel. Monitors on the lines of the other target channels are not reporting anything out of the ordinary,” reported the machine. Kuberness evaluated the plan once more.

Several variables worried him. Timing was the most critical, but he felt that his plan had enough flex in it to let him adjust it on the fly to some extent, though not so much that he could ride out a significant lapse in timing. I have to find a way to narrow that down, he noted. Considering his options, he found himself thinking of a possible solution to his problem. Of course, that option had its own risks and dangers.

-

“Varona!” came a shout. The young aboriginal girl turned to scan the mass of tourists entering the aboriginal settlement. Not immediately seeing anyone, she frowned. “Varona, it's me! Bon!” came the shout. Twitching in surprise, she looked a little lower, spotting the short young man weaving toward her work place. When he finally reached the counter, he paused, crossing his arms on the counter.

“Hi, Bon!” the girl greeted him warmly. Varona worked at the `help desk' of the settlement, answering questions, giving directions, explaining rules and assisting the tourists in assorted ways. Flanking her kiosk were the memento shop and the Ligaoga city-ship Aboriginal Affairs desk. Bon looked around, realizing that he had never known this place existed until she told him where she worked.

“Wow, I've never even noticed this place before,” he shared with her. Varona giggled.

“That's because you aren't a tourist,” she countered. “Natives don't need these services,” she murmured, mindful of the tourists near her. “So, off work early?” she asked him. He nodded.

“Finished the job half a day ahead of schedule, and since the materials for the next job won't arrive until tomorrow afternoon, I got the rest of the day off,” he confirmed. “When are you off?” he asked her.

“Not for another couple of hours,” sighed the girl. “My co-worker is running late,” she explained. Bon had learned that the help desk ran from sunrise to almost midnight, to accommodate the tourists who wanted to the occasional night-time running of Trial Hill, or those who wanted to watch the moons while sipping `native drinks' - which were, of course, not native at all, but sold well. The desk had three shift, each of them roughly equal in time, and Varona worked the middle shift, when the most tourists were around.

“Really?” commiserated Bon. “That's too bad. What happened?” he asked her.

“She had to get married,” grinned Varona. Leaning closer to Bon, she whispered. “I suspect that she's getting in a quickie before coming to work,” she suggested archly. Bon swallowed with a bit of difficulty, his dick twitching.

“Uh, yeah, probably,” he murmured, seeing a tourist approach. Stepping aside, he let Varona deal with the Earthling. Once the matter was finished, Varona resumed her conversation with Bon.

“So, have you figured out how to increase the carrying capacity of the sewer processing plant without draining the reactor's power distribution grid yet?” she asked him. Bon hummed.

“Well, our idea about changing the processing units fell through,” he explained. “I ran the power consumption through the simulator, and even though the units would draw less power individually, the parasitic power loss of the greater cabling and switching equipment load would put us over,” he sighed. “I had thought that that was the way to solve it, too!” he complained. Varona sighed.

“Another one down,” she agreed. “Any new ones?” she asked him. Bon shrugged.

“Not right off the bat,” he admitted. “But there has to be a way to do it!” he insisted. Varona wasn't as sure.

“I don't know, Bon,” she countered. “Remember what the teacher said: `some of these can't be solved'. Maybe this is one of those that can't be solved,” she suggested reasonably.

“Maybe,” agreed Bon reluctantly, “but I have this hunch that it can be solved, if only we can get our minds around it somehow!” he insisted. All his instincts said that there was a way, if they could only see it. “I mean, it's sewage! How can it be smarter than us?” he grinned. Varona giggled with him.

“Well, so far, it's whipping our asses,” she teased him. “We on for tonight? At the Chief's house?” she asked him, smiling easily at him.

“Of course we are!” he replied immediately. “But why do you always call it the `Chief's house'? Shie and I live there, too, you know,” he reminded her. She nodded.

“I know,” she acknowledged. “But it is the Chief's house, Bon.” The young man considered that.

Gram and Vess always had their own place, even back in Ardena. They took care of us, and helped us out, but we always had different places. I mean, they told us to stay, but maybe I should be looking for a house of my own; since Shie doesn't want to go back on the Hope, and all… he considered. “Suppose you're right,” he muttered aloud. An awkward moment of silence fell. Varona struggled for a new topic.

“Speaking of that, have you heard from them lately? Chief Gram and Cheiftess Vess, I mean,” she clarified. Bon shook his head.

“No. Not since the Aurora sailed,” he said. Sensing Varona's worry, Bon grinned at her. “But don't worry, Varona,” he soothed her, “Gram and Vess aren't going to let anything or anyone stop them; they'll be back sooner or later,” he assured her. Talk fell to other things, and before they knew it, a girl about Varona's age came jogging up, a huge smile on her face and a strange almost-glow about her.

“Sorry, Varona,” she apologized insincerely, leering at her co-worker. “I didn't mean to keep you and your boyfriend here this long,” she bragged. Varona rolled her eyes.

“Sure, whatever you say, Kamasse,” Varona waved off the apology. “I'm surprised that you can walk, let alone jog, after two hours with your husband,” she archly observed. The other girl gave a naughty titter of laughter.

“Plenty of practice, little Varona-kin,” she chortled, “plenty of practice.”

“So the rumors say, girl,” replied Varona easily.

Kamasse sniffed disdainfully, turning up her nose at the remark. “You're just jealous,” she declared regally. “Now get!” she ordered, flipping her hand at the other girl. Giggling, the girl slipped back her friend, absently touching her shoulder as she passed.

“Congratulations,” murmured Varona to her friend. Kamasse briefly touched Varona's hand as it lay on her shoulder.

“Thanks,” she murmured. “Better hurry up yourself, Varona,” she added, her eyes touching Bon briefly as she said it. Varona felt her cheeks warm at the veiled hint.

“W…we'll see,” she said, exiting the small door to the booth. “See you tomorrow!” she called out, swiftly walking away from the booth, Bon having to run to keep up with her. Once she was out of sight of the booth, she slowed, allowing Bon to slow to a walk.

“What was that about?” he asked her. Varona shook her head.

“Nothing!” she assured him. “Hungry?” she asked him. Bon nodded. He spent most of his time these days hungry. “How about we drop by my house for a snack?” she suggested, inclining her head toward another section of the settlement. “Most of my family will still be working, so we should be able to be in and out before it gets too crowded,” she enticed him.

“Sounds good,” he agreed easily. “What are we having?” he asked her. Varona's cheeks color slightly.

“Nothing fancy,” she hedged. “I'm not much of a cook,” she admitted, glancing down at him. Bon shrugged.

“Neither am I,” he replied casually. “Gram is the best cook of the four of us, though Vess has gotten a lot better,” he shared. “Don't worry, Varona,” he assured her, “if it's food, I'll eat it!” he grinned. Varona bit her lip to keep from saying what sprang to mind at his words.

“Well, that's a relief,” she said instead, smothering a laugh.

The two of them reached her home, finding that her cousin and mother were home. Quickly introducing Bon, Varona swiftly pulled together a meal and the two ate, fending off questions from the rest of the family. As soon as the food was done, they fled the home for the safety of the Chief's house. Reaching it, the two found a note from Granny Garma saying that she and Shie were taking a walk to see someone. Past experience with the capricious old woman had taught Bon that essentially, the note said that she and Shie would be gone until they returned.

Settling on the couch, the two opened up their laptops and began to work on the problem given to them by the teacher of the civil engineering class. Ideas were tried, scenarios were tested, simulations run. Time passed, neither of them noticing the fall of night. When they finally pushed back their laptops and leaned back on the couch, it was nearing midnight.

Shoulder to shoulder, the two stared at the ceiling. So far, there was still no answer to the problem, though they had learned some things that were worth knowing. Bon turned his head to look at Varona. She's almost a pretty as Vess, he realized for far from the first time. Dark haired, dark eyed, the girl was nonetheless a lot like Vess in several ways. Bon's eyes drifted a little lower. She's a bit smaller in the chest than Vess, he noticed.

“Bon?” breathed the girl. Looking back up at her face, he saw her watching him. He tried to think of something to say, but couldn't come up with a single excuse for being caught ogling her. Varona slowly leaned toward him, nervously licking her lips. Frozen in place, Bon felt her lips meet his in an inexperienced kiss. For several seconds, neither moved.

Bon was the first to move, his instincts coming to the forefront as his hand slowly reached out and cupped Varona's left breast, feeling the hard nipple against his palm. A soft moan came from the girl, but she made no move to move away from him or to dislodge his hand. Bon rubbed her breast carefully, like he had seen Gram do with Vess. Varona's breathing quickened.

Shifting a little, Bon took her other breast in hand as well, leaning over her a little to reach them. Having gained some familiarity with the clothing of the aboriginal Martians, Bon quickly opened her top, finding her breasts to be bare under the traditional shirt. Cupping them, he drank in the sight of the dusky nipples and puffy areola capping the firm - if modest - breasts. “Varona,” he managed before leaning in to lick one nipple.

“Ah!” gasped the girl, flinching at the touch of his wet, warm tongue on her exposed nipple. Bon glanced up, but made no move to stop his oral attention. Varona was panting heavily by the time that Bon switched breasts. “Bon,” she whimpered when he finally pulled his head back from her soaked breasts. Reaching down, Bon took one of her hands - lying limp in her lap - and slowly pulled it to his crotch, where his dick throbbed in anticipation.

It took her a moment to realize what she was feeling. Gasping, she stared wide-eyed at him. “Bon!” she breathed, slowly exploring his erection.

“W…what?” he managed. The feel of her hand on his dick - even through his pants - was like ice-cold electricity, shooting through his body from his dick to his scalp. Varona was still staring at him. “Varona?” he prompted breathlessly.

“I…thought you didn't like me,” she admitted breathlessly. “I never saw…” she broke off, blushing. It took the hormone-clouded young man a few moments to decipher the meaning of that half-sentence. On one hand, he was embarrassed by the realization that he didn't `measure up' to Gram. But on the other, the realization that Varona had been looking at him was reassuring.

Sensing his mixed feelings about her revelation, Varona began to salvage the mood. “It suits you,” she husked, exploring his shaft more thoroughly. Quickly unzipping his pants, she worked the clothing out of the way, studying the exposed chunk of man-meat. It's almost as thick as it is long, she thought, shocked. She had seen enough dicks to realize that they differed from man to man, but never had she seen one like his. Absently, she peeled the foreskin back, revealing a tip nearly as large around as a normal orange. Can that even fit without tearing a girl? she asked herself, a flash of fear dancing down her spine. Her hormones, however, had no issues with it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Bon's hands on her clothes. Shaking her thoughts aside, Varona stood and swiftly stripped off her clothes, revealing herself to him. Bon's jaw hung slack at the sight of her naked body. Light brown skin, lithe build and sleek lines, she was a work of art to his eyes. Shorter and darker than Vess, Bon noted, but she is just as curved as Vess! he happily noticed. A small patch of black hair decorated her belly just above the entrance to her pussy. Bon noticed that her lips were shiny and slick. Vess's look like that when she's either about to have sex, or just had sex, he recalled.

“Do…am I what you expected?” asked the girl nervously. Bon silently nodded.

“Beautiful,” he breathed. Varona shyly took his hand and helped him up before beginning to strip him.

“Let's see what I get,” she breathed in his ear. Bon swiftly flung off his clothes. Varona licked her lips. Even though he was short, he was shaped by the heavy work he had done, his frame lean and muscled with wiry compactness. He didn't have much body fat, the muscles of his chest and abs clearly delineated. From between his legs, his thick, short member stood straight out. Varona's lips curved into a smug smile. “Very nice,” she approved. I still don't know if that will fit, though, she left unsaid.

Reaching down, she caressed his hard member again, finding that she couldn't close her hand around it, it was so thick. Pumping it, she wiggled the fingers of her other hand between the foreskin and the tip, finding him to be leaking pre-cum. With the pads of her fingers, she rubbed his tip, causing him to groan in arousal. The dusky girl increased her pace and tightened her grip.

Feeling his climax nearing, Bon quickly reached out and cupped her sex, feeling his palm become wet with her juices. Having never had the chance to do more than fleetingly brush across Vess's blonde patch, he wasn't sure what to do, but he had seen Gram at work on his lover, and he recalled several things that he suspected would make Varona happy. Should be about here, he thought with a tiny part of his brain, his fingers working around the top of her slit. A sharp cry from Varona told him he had found the spot.

“Shh,” he soothed her, carefully working the spot with his fingertips. Varona settled back down, shivering in excitement. Feeling her grow wetter, he eased a finger back, feeling her opening. Slowly, he pushed his fingertip into her. The girl whimpered, though she didn't cease her own activities. In what seemed no time at all to him, he was all the way up to his palm in her passage, her fluid dripping from the back of his knuckles. Gradually, he began to pump his finger in and out of her passage.

Oh, god! she babbled silently, feeling his finger rubbing against her G-spot. I'm gonna cum! she wailed in her mind, her hands unconsciously squeezing harder and frantically pumping on his short shaft. “Bon!” she squealed, her passage seizing his finger tight as her orgasm crashed over her. As it did, she felt his dick jump in her grip, followed by a hot, slick spray coating her hand and thighs.

“Ugh!” Bon grunted as he decorated her skin with his cream. After half a dozen shots, he looked down to survey the site. Varona's hand was dripping cum, and her upper thighs were shiny from his cum, but her hands hadn't released his gradually softening member. For her part, her eyes were still closed, and she was breathing deeply, relishing her own orgasm. Bon let his hand drop from her drooling sex. Moments passed in silence.

“Well, that was certainly a surprise,” came a wry - but humor-colored - voice from the door. Blinking, the two turned to see three people watching them. Bon's brain ground into gear once more.

“Gram! Vess!” he blurted out, trying to decide between grabbing his clothes or covering his limp dick. “What are you doing here?” he asked stupidly. Gram quirked an eyebrow at the question.

“We live here,” he replied with a grin. Beside him, Vess was covering her mouth as she yawned.

“So, who's your girlfriend?” asked the blonde when she was done with her yawn. Her lips were twitching, going from smile to smirk and back again.

“C…Ch…Chief Gram!” stuttered the girl, bowing her head. “I…I'm…V…Varona!” she introduced herself clumsily. It had completely slipped her mind that she was standing there naked, Bon's cum on her thighs and hands. “Sorry for intruding!” she added hastily. Gram shrugged.

“No problem,” he assured her. “Though this isn't what we expected to see when we finally got back home,” he observed.

“I…I'm so sorry!” she winced, her face scarlet.

“Don't worry about it,” Vess dismissed the apology. “I'm Vess, by the way,” she added, moving forward.

“Chieftess Vess,” she bowed again.

“Chieftess?” echoed the third member of the party. Enora could feel the heat from her cheeks, but wasn't about to let that make her flee from the unexpected site that greeted her when she had followed the two home. Her eyes covertly peeked at Bon's limp dick. Man, I'm glad that Gram's not like that! she thought before her eyes moved on to briefly assess the girl. Not bad, she allowed. Hope she's not going to become competition, too, she added absently. “I'm Enora Taft,” she introduced herself.

“Bon, you should get a shower,” said Vess, glancing at his dripping dick. “Varona, too,” she added casually. Bon swallowed.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, grabbing Varona's wrist and tugging her toward the bathroom. “Welcome home,” he called back weakly. Enora shook her head.

“Bon, huh?” she asked Gram, who just chuckled and shrugged. Vess moved to look into the second bedroom.

“Shie isn't here,” she reported to her lover. Gram found the note by the two laptops.

“Granny Garma has her,” he shared, waving the note. Vess nodded.

“Well, that's both a relief and cause to worry,” she smiled at Gram. Behind them, they heard the shower. “We're calling it a night, Bon!” called Vess, moving toward the bedroom. Enora and Gram followed her.

“Ok!” called back Bon. “See you in the morning!” he added.

“Yeah,” said Gram, tossing his vest on top of Vess's vest on the foot of the bed. Enora set her pack down by the foot of the bed. Seeing Vess unzip her suit, and Gram pull off his shirt, she glanced at the door to the bathroom, making sure that the curtain was drawn before unfastening her shorts and letting them fall to the floor, her shirt following a moment later.

“Been a long day,” yawned Gram, tossing back the sheets for Vess, who crawled into bed, followed by Gram.

“Yes,” she agreed. “We'll start tomorrow morning on those calls,” she suggested/ordered. Gram nodded. Enora saw him holding the covers open for her and swiftly joined the two in bed. Situating herself, she began to doze off. As she did, she re-situated herself against Gram's side, her left arm brushing over his chest and bumping into Vess's right arm.

“Sorry,” yawned the Earth girl, easing her arm back slightly. Vess just hummed, her head on Gram's shoulder. Enora heard the shower stop. “Um, do you think…?” she whispered to the couple next to her.

“Probably,” came Gram's voice, his arm sliding under Enora's shoulders to ease the pressure of her weight on his shoulder. Enora felt her temperature rise as she was drawn closer to Gram. “Why?” he wondered.

“No reason, really,” shrugged Enora, aware that her nipples were growing hard against the warm skin of Gram's chest. “I just didn't want to…interrupt them,” finished the girl lamely. Gram chuckled, some soft sounds from Vess telling her that Vess was giggling.

“Honestly, I was surprised,” admitted Vess in a whisper. “I mean, he's at that stage, but still…!”

“I know,” murmured Gram. “At least it was us who walked in, and not Shie,” he observed.

“Or Granny Garma!” added Enora. “That woman is crazy, I tell you!” she reminded them. Gram hummed.

“Somehow, I think that Granny Garma would just cheer them on,” he said. Enora was all too aware that that was exactly what the woman would do. Her talk with the tribal elder refused to leave her awareness, and it was acutely vivid when she was close to Gram. “Still, he managed a good catch,” he shared without bias. Vess made a little sound in her throat.

“Not bad, no,” she agreed. Enora felt her cheeks color.

“Um, she seemed pretty enough,” added the girl lamely, wondering if they were waiting for her input to the conversation. But I wonder what happened to Bon's dick? I mean, can he even get that into a girl? wondered the teenager. “That'd have to hurt,” she mumbled to herself.

“What would hurt?” wondered Gram.

“Eep!” Enora flinched. “Nothing,” she muttered. Crap! I said that out loud!

“Never seen one like that, huh?” guessed Vess. “Well, if it makes it any easier, neither have I,” said the older girl. “Genetic variance, I suppose,” she dismissed it.

“But, can he…?” began Enora, before falling silent, embarrassed that she had even brought it up. Still, Vess seemed to be following her aborted question just fine.

“I don't know why not,” she returned causally. “It'll probably take some time for the girl to get used to it, but it's not so thick that he can't,” she analyzed. “And he's long enough to get the job done,” she mused. “All things equal, I'll stick with Gram,” she giggled softly, rubbing Gram's chest.

“Well, that's a relief,” came Gram's reply, the humor clearly heard in his voice. Vess's arm swept down from his chest, knocking Enora's arm along with it. Before Enora could react, she felt a hard, warm, soft-skinned length run into her forearm. Sucking in a breath, she realized what it must be.

“Feels like someone is turned on,” came Vess's sultry whisper as she shifted over to kiss her lover, her hand casually caressing his hard shaft. “Mm. If I weren't so tired, I'd make use of that,” she growled lovingly into his ear. Enora was breathing fast on his other shoulder, her body frozen in place. Against her wrist, she could feel the heat from his shaft, as well as Vess's wrist as she stroked Gram.

“If you keep that up,” replied Gram, his voice lower than usual and slightly rougher than normal, “you might have to make use of it,” he mock-threatened. Vess giggled against his throat.

“Then I better stop,” she breathed, giving his shaft one more stroke before letting her hand slowly slip from his hard length, landing on Enora's hand. Hearing a half-silenced groan, Vess grinned evilly in the dark room. “Oh, poor Gram!” she teased him lovingly. “Want to help him out, Enora?” she asked the other girl playfully.

“M…me?!” squeaked the younger woman. Vess, you shouldn't say things like that if you don't mean it…! she silently screamed. Vess's hand covered her own, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Well, if that's the case,” said the blonde calmly, “you'll just have to wait for morning, lover,” she said to Gram, hugging him from the side briefly. Vess's hand slid off Enora's hand, returning to Gram's chest. Biting her lip, Enora carefully wrapped her hand around Gram's hard length; or as much of it as she could.

Gram's not that thin, himself! she marveled, hardly believing that she was bold enough to actually grab Gram's dick. And while Vess is right next to him, no less! one part of her mind gibbered. Swallowing with great difficulty, she slowly gave his rod a single stroke before her nerve failed her, and she - almost guiltily - withdrew her hand from his groin, laying it over his lower chest, next to Vess's hand. She flinched as she felt Gram's head turn and lean closer to her, his lips touching the top of her forehead.

“See you in the morning, Enora,” he softly whispered to her. Enora wondered why she didn't melt on the spot.

-

“I am a genius, if I do say so myself,” bragged Doctor to himself, seeing the last of the work being tidied up on the Ship of Hope. Almost five months in dry dock, six dozen BALLS robots working around the clock, and not only is the work only hours from being complete, but no one knows about it! exalted the man. “Elizabeth, if this doesn't convince you that I was telling you the truth, nothing will,” he murmured, sobering a bit.

Below him, the Ship of Hope gleamed in the dry dock area. In addition to the repairs, Doctor had upgraded the armor system, re-worked the weapons systems, tweaked the control surfaces and feed-back settings, tuned the acoustic signature, damped the sonic signature, installed a brand-new power plant, changed out the low-speed docking nozzles for newer, more accurate models, replaced the main entrance hatch, fixed the stores hatches fore and aft, and gave the ship a thorough `skin treatment' as he called media blasting, priming, painting and sealing the entire hull of the ship.

The new Ship of Hope was five meters longer, overall, than before. It was also two meters and some change narrower than before, extremity-to-extremity, as well as being just under one meter shorter, though the waterline was actually lower when it was surfaced than before, meaning that the surface draft was shallower. In spite of stronger armor, the ship was also nearly eighty tons lighter than it was when it arrived, thanks to the stronger-but-lighter main engine, the cutting-edge armor installed in place of the old, battered armor, and the upgrade in internal wiring and plumbing. The bridge had been upgraded to a degree, with a more efficient main display, cooler-running circuits, and more energy-efficient redundant control units.

Most noticeable was the new hull surface. Glass-smooth, it was flawlessly painted in a rich, strong Mars gray and ice-berg dirty white camouflage pattern. Doctor had honestly wrestled with himself about the paint job, since the new color and design was clearly predatory in nature. He had thought about a warm ocean blue and aqua-marine green `civilian' paint job, but after several days mentally arguing and weighing the pros and cons, he had chosen the colors of a predator over the colors of prey.

And the Ship of Hope was most assuredly a predator; now even more so than before. Her SHIELD-configured hull design had made it easy to turn her from a more or less standard cruiser-class ship into a Fast-Heavy class cruiser. “First one on Mars,” he muttered to himself. While the battleship-class vessels - like the Ship of Aurora - still enjoyed a certain status, they were doomed to extinction, due to the limitations of all that power and weight. Ramming types were especially doomed, since the ships lacked the flexibility that a cruiser or destroyer had.

“Crew, fuel, depth vulnerabilities,” Doctor sighed. “I'm sorry, Elizabeth, but there just isn't going to be a market for ships like yours in the future,” he muttered aloud. Lightly jumping over the rail of the supervisor cat-walk, he began his final external check. He figured that by the time that he finished double-checking all the critical items on his list, the BALLS would have finished up the last of it, and he could flood the dock and see how she floated. After that, it was time to double-check the inside of the exterior hull, then the pressure hull, top off secondary and emergency tanks with fuel, inspect the wiring and plumbing work, have the ship's system run a complete diagnostic on the new systems, do a full functionality test on the control surfaces, re-arm the magazine, re-fill the ship's stores, and finally, call Gram and tell him the ship is ready.

“Should do a dive test before I tell him it's ready, but that's a risk I can't run,” he mumbled to himself, carefully eyeing a ballast vent. If all the sub-systems check out, then the master diving controls should be fine; and besides, the Aurora will be there in case something goes wrong, he soothed his worries. He knew that once the doors to the dry-dock were re-opened, the Ship of Hope would have to run with what it had if anyone noticed them. Still, that Gram kid seems to have the devil's own luck, he chuckled to himself. And that blonde with him reminds me of Elizabeth in so many ways, back when we were just starting out pirate days… he chuckled aloud. “Fond memories,” he sighed, climbing out from under the huge hull of the Hope.

Upon reaching the main decking, he checked his tablet to verify that the BALLS were all finished then tapped in the command to flood the dock. A moment later, the air stirred as the huge control pipes spewed water as the dock opened bleeder vents, dropping the pressure in the dock area enough to allow in just the right level of water to flood the dock. It took twenty minutes to fill the dock. As the air pressure stabilized, the Ship of Hope lifted from the wood and plastic keel blocks that had supported her weight. Held by hawsers, the ship once more lived. “Beautiful,” breathed Doctor reverently.

With an anticipatory spring in his step, the man nearly jogged to the gangplank, quickly scampering inside and to the bridge. No sooner had he stepped onto the bridge, than the icon of the ship's system clicked on and NAMI's voice came from the speakers. “Doctor.”

“Good morning, NAMI,” he replied. I think I liked it better when she couldn't talk to me directly, he thought, mildly amused. He was certain that the AI had a distinct dislike of him poking around in her hull. Tapping in the access codes for dry-dock level access, he began to transfer the files that would switch control from the install-control system to the active systems. “As you are doubtlessly aware, you are once more swimming like a fish,”

“Significant time has transpired,” came the nearly-cut reply. “Logic dictates that the ship should be repaired after such a period.”

“Oh, you are a charmer, NAMI,” he chuckled. “We need a complete, by-the-numbers, diagnostic sweep of every last ship-board system, followed by a complete external senor test. After that, we have to test your control surface settings, verify start-up and control of your new main engine, and finally, we have to call your Captains to come pick you up,” he added, files transferring from the city-ship's servers to the SHIELD ship.

“Ancillary files are being loaded,” noted NAMI suspiciously. Doctor nodded in the general direction of the main display, which currently had transparent screens of the data flow floating in front of the external view of the dry dock.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “I'm wiping all records of your re-fit from Harras's data banks. Your copy will be the only one in existence, NAMI,” he said. Safer that way for all of us, he left unsaid. “Oh, and congratulations,” he added.

“For what?” came the clipped reply.

“You are now the first, only, and certainly the baddest, Fast Heavy Cruiser-class SHIELD ship on Mars,” the Doctor said.