Mars Daybreak Fan Fiction ❯ Haunting Past ❯ Chapter 11

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 11

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Enora opened her eyes to find that she was in a dim room. Wha…? wondered the girl sleepily. Oh, right, she recalled after a moment, I'm in Gram's house. An instant later, she recalled another fact. I'm in his bed, too! Sucking in an excited breath, she realized that the warm, comfortable pillow under her head was the left shoulder of the young man she had come to realize she was madly in love with.

The problem, though, was that she knew that on his other shoulder, a blonde girl named Vestemona rested comfortably. And Vess - as she preferred to be called by her friends - was Gram's girlfriend, partner and lover. For far from the first time, Enora cursed her capricious choice to become Gram's `little sister', back when they had first met up. Ah, the follies of youth… she thought to herself sardonically. Her introspection was interrupted by the growing awareness of soft sounds and the minute movement of her `pillow'. What is going on? she wondered, pushing her thoughts to the back of her mind in favor of determining what was going on with Gram.

Concentrating, she realized that the sounds she was hearing was a mixture of soft grunts and sighs from Gram, combining with a wet, slurping sound from under the sheets. Across her warm, naked skin, she could feel the tickly feeling of air moving across her. After a moment of thought, she realized that it was from the movement of the sheets and light cover. Her eyes, adjusted to the gloom, saw that there was movement at Gram's groin. Suddenly, the pieces fell into place. Vess's giving him…!

Enora licked her lips, keenly aware that her head rested on Gram's shoulder, his arm looped under and around her shoulders, his hand resting on her short-ribs. Her belly was pressed against his side, and her legs had, at some point, wrapped themselves around his thigh. The grand daughter of the President of Earth was keenly aware that Gram's thigh was pressing firmly against her bare sex. She didn't need to check to know that Gram's leanly-muscular thigh bore a large wet patch, made by her arousal. He must have spread his legs a little, since he's pressing right on my pussy, she thought, her body growing warm - starting from her lower belly and spreading outward.

Across Gram's lower chest, Enora's left arm could feel Gram's deep, fast breathing, as well as the irregular, light touch of Vess's hair as she bobbed her head on his shaft. Swallowing a mouthful of drool at the mental image of herself doing that, Enora's arm twitched. It was then that she realized that Vess's hand rested across her hand. Probably to help her keep her balance, she decided, seeing that Vess had moved so she was kneeling between Gram's legs. Around her shoulders, she could feel Gram's arm twitch as the pleasure that Vess was giving him spread through his body.

What should I do? wondered Enora. More than a year ago, she had made peace with her desire for Gram, and since her return to Mars and Gram, she had been watching for a chance to advance her plan. Maybe this is the best chance so far… she wondered. After all, the night before, Vess had - even if only playfully - invited her to give Gram a hand job. Should I? she asked herself. It wasn't becoming intimate with Gram that worried her; it was being intimate with Gram, only to have Vess turn jealous on her. The blonde scared Enora when she got angry.

In her mind, she could almost hear herself say `nothing ventured, nothing gained, Enora Taft.” So, steeling her nerves, she slowly worked her right arm - tucked between her chest and Gram's side - up to meet Gram's hand on her short ribs. Slowly, she curled her fingers around his, feeling his head turn toward her. Avoiding his gaze, Enora gently tugged his hand up and forward, trembling slightly as she pressed his palm to her bare breast. For a moment, his hand was dead still, but just before she lost her nerve, she felt him begin to gently, skillfully, massage her firm breast. Enora almost sobbed in relief.

While her tit enjoyed his manual skills, Enora's pussy began to throb and itch needfully. Trying to scratch this itch, she begun to undulate her groin against Gram's thigh, the feeling of her stiffening clit rubbing his leg soothed her itch, but didn't stop it entirely. “Mm,” she hummed as quietly as possible. She was keenly aware that Vess was - literally - within touching distance of her, and she worried about making too much noise and gaining Vess's attention. And I'm sure that Gram wouldn't appreciate my distracting Vess right now, she thought lustfully.

Thus distracted, Enora didn't realize that Vess had taken the girl's arm in her hand and dragged it toward her own activities until Enora felt hot, wet fluid on her hand, along with Vess's fast breath. Her attention caught, Enora realized that Vess's fingers were guiding her own fingers to the base of Gram's soaked shaft. Enora began to pant herself as she felt the pulsing organ with her fingertips. To her surprise, Vess guided her hand lower, and before Enora knew it, she was holding Gram's testes; along with Vess. What do I do now? wondered the girl. She knew that the balls were very sensitive, and she had never even touched any before.

Fortunately, Vess's fingers were interlaced with her own, and the older girl carefully guided her as she began to massage Gram's sack, teasing, rubbing and fondling the surprisingly large nuts of the young man. “Ah!” sighed Gram happily. Vess didn't reply, her mouth being full of his shaft. Enora could feel her own arousal growing even hotter as she groped his nuts, rubbed her pussy on his thigh, and felt his hand massaging her pert breasts. Moaning, sighing and groaning, the girl felt Gram's other hand touch her chin, guiding her face up to meet his. When his lips met her own, Enora achieved her first non-solo orgasm, trembling against his side as she squeezed his thigh with her own thighs.

“Gram!” she breathed as her orgasm peaked. Gram silently hugged her closer. Below the two, Vess felt Enora's hand go limp, and guessed what had happened. Grinning around a mouthful of her favorite man-meat, she slowly drew her head off his shaft, holding suction as she did so. When the tip finally popped free, Vess straightened and shifted forward, using her hands to untangle Enora and Gram's leg, the better to straddle him. Placing one hand on his chest, Vess used the other to adjust his position before sinking down on him, her soaked flower swallowing him happily.

“Yes!” she hissed, feeling him fill her passage. Since Enora had woken up and been drawn into the action, her excitement had climbed far faster than she expected, and she suspected that neither Gram nor herself would last as long as they usually did, so she was going for a shared fast orgasm. Besides, we have to make those calls today, a small part of her mind recalled. It was only a tiny part, though, as the vast majority of her awareness was obsessed with the feeling of her lover joining with her in the most intimate way possible.

Bouncing on her lover's highly-satisfying member, Vess swirled her hips as she bottomed out, making his hard length rub both her G-spot and her clit. “Ugh!” she panted happily. Her second hand joined the first, resting on Gram's pectoral muscles. The outside of her right thigh was rubbing against Enora's thighs, adding a novel element to this coupling. Gram's hand cupped her breast, trapping her hard nipple with thumb and forefinger, Vess smiled, a bit of drool leaking from the corner of her mouth as she teetered on the edge.

“Vess-chan!” gasped Gram, jerking his hips up hard as he filled her with his cum. For the girl, hearing his love- and lust-filled voice was all it took to trigger her own orgasm. Floating on her orgasm, the feeling of hot, thick cum flooding her triggered a minor second orgasm. Panting harshly, Vess lowered herself to rest on his chest.

“Gram,” she purred happily. Beside the two, Enora felt awkward as the two soaked in each other's warmth and closeness. What do I do now? wondered Enora. She was keenly aware that Vess and Gram were lovers, while she was not in that kind of close relationship. To her surprise, she felt Gram draw her back to his side, Vess's arm helping him. Enora found herself hugged to the two, her face pressing against the side of Vess's breast. “Now, that is the way to say `good morning',” Vess leered at Gram. Turning to Enora, she smiled at the girl, seeing how nervous Enora was. “Morning, Enora,” she said, smiling warmly as she rubbed the girl's back.

“Uh, good morning, Vess, Gram,” she managed. Vess patted Enora's shoulder. Gram's hand found a comfortable resting place on the outside curve of Enora's hip. Say something…anyone! Enora begged silently. Enora still had yet to realize that wishes weren't necessarily granted in the manner that they were made.

“You came, too, right, Enora-chan?” asked Vess casually. Absently, her inner muscles clenched Gram's softening member. Vess felt Gram's other hand cup her ass, causing her to wiggle her hips happily.

“Y…yeah,” managed Enora. What kind of thing is that to ask?! she silently screamed, mortified. Here was the lover of the guy she was in love with, who had just given him a blow job and ridden him to release, asking if she got to cum too. Her turbulent thoughts were derailed by Gram's voice.

“Good,” he said, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. “I don't like leaving a lady unsatisfied,” he chuckled playfully, rubbing her hip. Enora didn't hear the happy sigh that escaped her lips as he did that.

“Well! That's the exact attitude that our Chief should have!” came the worn, crackling voice of Granny Garma. Vess and Gram maneuvered their heads so they could locate the woman. The short, wrinkled woman was beaming at them from the door to their bedroom. Beside her was Shie.

“Vess! Gram!” called the girl, waving excitedly. “You came back!” she squealed happily.

“Morning, Shie,” smiled Vess. “Granny Garma,” she added. Seeing Shie turn for the door, Vess frowned. “Where are you off to, Shie?” she asked. The girl giggled happily.

“To school, Vess!” she called back, dashing out the door. “See you this evening!” she called back. Gram and Vess exchanged a look of mixed emotions.

“She seems to be doing well,” noted Gram. Vess nodded.

“It's good that she's going to school,” she replied.

“Not only her, Chief Gram,” noted Granny Garma, leaning against the door frame to the bedroom. “Bon is both working and going to school to be a civil engineer,” she reported. Gram nodded.

“He'll make a good one,” said the young man.

“I'm surprised that you got him to go,” observed Enora. Granny Garma cackled to herself.

“Bon's a push-over, girl!” she gloated. “I could talk him into anything!” she boasted. Gram chuckled.

“No doubt,” he agreed. The old woman was one of those rare persons who just don't know how to take `no' for an answer.

“How are you this morning, Enora?” asked the old woman slyly.

“I'm fine,” replied the teenager, her tone colored with both embarrassment and annoyance. “What time is it, anyway?” asked the girl, remaining where she was because neither Gram nor Vess had released her from their embrace.

“Morning time,” shrugged Granny Garma. “I came by to check up on the rumor that you had returned,” she went on, her voice growing more serious. “It's good to know that you have come back, Chief,” she said.

“You might not agree when you hear what we found,” sighed Gram. Leaning up, he kissed Vess thoroughly. “Speaking of that…” he groaned. Vess was none too happy to have to part from Gram, but she carefully climbed off her lover and out of bed, grabbing a towel and moving for the bathroom.

Enora took that as her cue, and started to rise as well, only to feel Gram touch her shoulder. “Don't want you good-morning kiss, Enora?” he asked her quietly. Enora blushed, but closed her eyes and leaned into him. When the kiss broke maybe half a minute later, she got out of bed, her blush covering her from forehead to collarbones.

Once the girls were in the shower, Gram sat up, stretching his arms. Granny Garma watched him contemplatively. “I'll fix you three a good Martian breakfast, Chief,” she said, turning and moving toward the kitchen.

“Thanks, Granny Garma,” he called after her, getting out of bed as well. In the bathroom, he took care of business, his arrival interrupting a quiet discussion between Vess and Enora. From the impression he got, they had been having a `girl talk' conversation, and that meant that they wouldn't talk in front of him about whatever they had been discussing before his arrival. “Sorry for interrupting,” he offered them. “I'll just clean up real quick and leave you two ladies to talk, then,” he offered. Vess grinned at him.

“Thanks, Gram,” she said warmly. “But how about you let us help you clean up; the better to get you out of our way, of course,” she playfully dug at him. Before he knew it, Vess and Enora were gleefully scrubbing him clean. Vess managed to get the front side of him, and she took extra care to unnecessarily caress his dick. Within five minutes, the girls were pushing him out of the shower, clean and semi-aroused. “Now, get!” Vess ordered him imperiously, winking at him as she said it.

“Whatever you say, Vess-chan, Enora-chan,” he chuckled, grabbing his towel and drying off as he exited the bathroom. Once he was gone, Vess turned back to Enora.

-

“Papa?” Enora asked, her voice a little tentative and colored with apprehension. She was sitting in the living room of Gram's house, her PCD set up before her. She had discovered that the aboriginal settlement had excellent signal reception, and she felt more comfortable talking to her grandpa from the security of a house she felt more a home with than her own family's home.

“Enora?” came the surprised reply from the President of Earth.

“Yeah, it's me,” she said quickly. “Papa, we need to talk - privately,” she said softly, touching the button to encrypt the signal. Her grandpa understood.

“Just a moment, honey,” he said. On her screen, she saw the old man jerk his head at someone behind the camera, and a moment later, he closed the encryption circuit from his end. “Ok, sweetie,” he said, focusing on her. “Where are you? Are you safe?” he asked her, clearly worried about her. Enora gave him a warm smile.

“I'm on Mars, of course!” she giggled. “And yes, I am safe. I'm…staying with some friends, actually,” she admitted. Her grandpa nodded, clearly relieved.

“So, you aren't on that pirate ship, then,” he mused to himself.

“Not at the moment, anyway,” shrugged Enora. Her grandpa fixed her with a disapproving look.

“Enora, I get the daily intelligence briefings on what is going on there, you know,” he reminded her. “The number of sunken ships is getting alarming,” he shared. Enora took a deep breath.

“You should try it from my end, papa,” she said seriously. “Did you hear that three entire city-ships have been sunk?” she asked him. The president frowned.

“Three? I know that Taklen was sunk by the Ship of Hope,” he began. Enora's temper was instantly ignited.

“That's a fucking lie!” she screamed angrily. “Gram never did that!” she ranted. Her grandpa blinked at her tone and words.

“Well, I think it clear that you've been hanging out with pirates,” he observed dryly. Enora snorted.

“Never mind my language,” she muttered. “Gram and Vess were framed, papa,” she went on, forcing herself to calm down. “In fact, we have come across a lot of stuff in the last few months,” she said. The seasoned politician on the other end of the line was suddenly all business.

“Like what, `Nora?” he asked her. Taking in a big breath, Enora picked up her sheet of notes and prepped the files on her PCD for transfer to his machine.

“I'll start at the beginning, papa,” she said, glancing at her notes. “Um, you might want to takes notes,” she added, grinning. Her grandpa returned the smile.

“I find I have to when talking to you, honey,” he chuckled fondly. Enora beamed at him.

“Of course you do; I'm a girl, aren't I?” she teased him. A thought occurred to her. “Papa?” she whispered to him. Seeing his attention, she went on. “Some of what you are going to hear, you probably won't like,” she said quietly. “So, well…just please remember that this was my choice, ok?” she begged.

“What's happened, Enora?” he asked her, worried. Enora shook her head.

“I'll tell you after I give you what we have collected and figured out,” she sidestepped. The old man studied his grand daughter carefully.

“Ok, Enora,” he said after a moment. She nodded.

“Thanks, papa,” she said honestly, relieved that he was taking it so well. He really is my closest family member, she thought fleetingly. “Let's start with the primary incident,” she said, slipping into her presentation mode. Beginning with the Taklen incident, she slowly and carefully laid out for her grandpa all that they had learned, transmitting the files to him as she addressed the topics, allowing him to review the supporting documentation as they went, so it would make more sense to her explanation of things.

She was just reaching the conclusion when her grandpa glanced off camera, holding up his hand to the camera. Enora went silent. After a moment, he nodded once, and a moment later, he looked back at the camera and her. “Continue,” he said simply. Enora suppressed her curiosity and picked right back up where she had been interrupted. Fifteen minutes later, she was done, the last files were transmitted and she was finally able to ask a question of him.

“What was the interruption about, papa?” she asked him. The President of Earth was still making some notes and clearly had multiple screens up on his holographic display.

“Hmm?” he hummed, not looking at her. A moment or two later, he glanced at her.

“The interruption,” she prompted him. “What was that about?” she repeated her question.

“Oh,” replied her grandpa, as if it were no big thing. “Just an aide,” he said.

“I guessed that,” replied Enora dryly. “What was so important that he interrupted us?” she asked.

“Lauren announced on all-net access that he is officially running for President.”

Enora frowned. “We knew he would, didn't we?” she asked her grandpa. The President shook his head.

“Actually,” he corrected her in a teacher-like tone, “we predicted that he would. However, until he actually, officially, put his name on the ballot, we were unsure if our suspicions were correct about his moves.”

“Yeah, but what is the big deal about him officially joining the race?” asked Enora, puzzled. “And isn't it a little late to be doing that?” she wondered.

“Actually, it is a shrewd move on his part,” her grandpa countered. “He's been maneuvering hard for this for a while,” mediated the old man. “First, he spearheaded the voting regulation reformation legislation six years ago, which allows for those with sufficient electoral votes to join the race at any point up to the final votes. Then, he spent a few years buying favor in the electoral colleges, leveraging his business alliances to line up backing, and avoiding most of my attacks by not being in the race, while being free to ambush me and snipe at my voting base. And now, he steps in right at the bell, substantial votes in hand, and no time left for me to line up a counter-campaign.” Her grandpa grudgingly nodded in respect. “An excellent plan, all things considered,” he admitted.

“He's a jerk!” pouted Enora. “And more than that, he's gotten a lot of people killed for his bid,” she muttered darkly. Her grandpa nodded gravely.

“True, Enora,” he agreed. “He is, however, playing the game of politics,” he continued. “A politician will use any means to accomplish his goals, Enora. If you are planning a foray into politics, you need to recognize, accept and move past that core principal,” he lectured her.

“Even you, papa?” challenged Enora, disliking the implications of what her grandpa was saying.

“Especially me, Enora,” he said. For a moment, he was silent. “Enora, I know that you think of me as a loving grand father to you, who supports you and loves you - and I do! - but do not for an instant think that this means that I am any more noble or nicer than Lauren.”

“But…!” began Enora, only to have her grandpa raise his finger, silencing her.

“You never knew your grand mother, Enora. Have you ever wondered why?” he asked her. Mutely Enora shook her head.

“You said she died before I was born,” she said quietly, absently hunching slightly. “Mom and dad never say anything; like she didn't exist,” she recalled.

“Your grand mother was twice my age, Enora,” began her grandpa. “Our marriage was one of political convenience, not love or passion. I married her because she firmly entrenched in the ranks of the largest political machine at the time, and I needed their support. She needed a ticket into the upper reaches of the political power structure. So, we ironed out the details, married and set about climbing the political mountain.”

He paused before continuing. “As we climbed, new peaks became available to us. Because of the political climate at the time, we decided to have a child to gather the votes of families - your father, Enora. While I won't claim we didn't love him, he was never the focus of our attention. As he got older, we steered him to your mother, because - once more - the marriage would strengthen our political stand. Shortly before you were conceived, you grandmother took ill.”

“As a family, we played the illness up, bolstering our camp against the attacks of rival parties. While we might appear to be a loving, normal family, we would sit in the hospital room and obsess over our political goals. Your grandmother predicted that the birth of a grandchild shortly after her long illness and death would put me in the office of President, provided that we marshaled all our resources.” The old man looked directly at Enora. “Enora, you have been as much a pawn of our family as your friends on Mars have been of Lauren,” he stated flatly.

Enora wasn't sure what to feel. She had known that while her parents loved her, the party meetings, fund raising events, vote rallies and campaigning were first in their hearts. She had never necessarily had a problem with that, since the nannies the family hired were very, very good. In a way, her parent's lack of tight supervision allowed her to become who she was. Still, it was another matter to hear her favorite family member tell her flat out that she was a political tool. Her emotions played across her face.

“Sorry to have to put it like that, Enora,” came her grandfather's voice, “but I think it best that you go into this with your eyes wide open; politics are not for the squeamish,” he warned her.

-

“Administrator Grace!” protested the doctor indignantly. “You are in no condition to leave the hospital yet!” he insisted. Anna scowled at him.

“I have things to do, doctor, and they won't get done lying around here,” she growled irritably.

“This is against medical advice!” the doctor insisted. Anna scowled at him.

“Fine! Noted! Now get out of my way!” she snarled, shoving the man aside and grabbing the door handle to the hospital. Just as she opened it, Doolittle arrived.

“Checking out, Administrator?” asked the portly captain of the Mars Defense Force mildly.

“Captain! I insist that you confine Administrator Grace to her room until she had been medically cleared to return to work!” the doctor hyperventilated.

“Doc, you have to calm down!” Doolittle said amicably, patting him on the shoulder. “You look like you're gonna have a stroke,” he added, casually forcing the man back so Anna could slip through the door.

“Captain, Admi…!” he began.

“Sorry, but I can't help you,” shrugged the captain. “You see, Administrator Grace is my superior, so I can't very well make her stay,” he explained, patting the flustered doctor on the shoulder as he stepped back out of the hospital's doorway. “I'm sure that you understand,” he called over his shoulder, slipping into the car that Anna had already settled in. Without a word, the car pulled away.

Once they were a ways down the road, Doolittle glanced at Anna, who was grimacing and shifting in her seat. “Are you certain that you shouldn't be resting?” he challenged her. Anna sent him a sour look.

“I can rest in my own bed as well as I can rest in there,” she denied. “Besides, I can't get anything done when that officious prick of a doctor is trying to keep me isolated,” she huffed. “Where are we?” she asked him, dismissing the topic of her injuries without another thought.

“We're sorting out the laundry,” he said obliquely. “Oh, and your office is being re-decorated,” he added casually. Anna blinked.

“What?” she breathed through locked teeth.

“Seems a directive was issued from Earth that states that due to the emergency on Mars and your attempted assassination, the whole of Mars was placed under the oversight of the Earth Forces Admiral, blah, blah, blah, for the protection of the citizens of Mars, the Earth Forces may find it necessary to temporarily curtail certain privileges, blah, blah, blah, in extreme circumstances, the Earth Forces senior officer in command of EF-M may suspend constitutional rights, blah, blah, blah, for the citizen's safety, they are directed to comply so as to enjoy the protection and safety offered by the Earth Forces, blah, blah, blah,” Doolittle paraphrased.

“They're setting aside the Constitution of Mars just like that?!” demanded Anna Grace. While it was true that she was often hamstrung by the constraints of the Constitution of Mars, she was unwilling to see it casually dismissed.

“Oh, it's not dismissed,” replied Doolittle with ironic sarcasm, “it's just being temporarily suspended; for the safety of the citizens, of course!”

Anna was mumbling angry imprecations against the Admiral. Doolittle shifted lanes and moved to surface streets. “So, he's taking my office, is he?” asked Anna once she had cooled off a little. Doolittle shrugged.

“Seems like it,” he said vaguely. Anna grunted.

“Well, I can work from home,” she said defiantly. Doolittle pursed his lips.

“I suggest that you re-consider that idea, Administrator,” he disagreed. “After all, with the unrest, there could be an accident,” he reminded her carefully. Anna bared her teeth.

“So what am I supposed to do, then?” she demanded in exasperation. Doolittle glanced at her.

“Far be it from me to try and tell you what to do, Madam Administrator,” he began blandly, “but if it were me, I'd think about a short vacation,” he suggested, glancing at her again. “Maybe see an old friend; or rival?” he proposed delicately. After just an instant, Anna winced.

“God,” she groaned. “I think I'd rather take my chances at home,” she complained. Doolittle shrugged.

“It's your choice,” he said indifferently. “Oh, and I seem to have inadvertently been sent a vid-message for you,” he added as an after-thought. “Must have just been a mix-up in the communication lines,” he added, handing her his small phone.

Anna touched the button to replay the message, and found herself looking at a familiar face.

-

“Hey, Bon,” called out Gram as the short young man entered the home he currently shared with the chief. Glancing past the head of the young man, he spotted Varona. The girl was almost hiding outside the door. “Come on in, Varona,” he invited her, smiling at her encouragingly. She's always so shy about coming on in here, he thought to himself. Vess and Enora were out in the town, looking for some things that they needed. He himself had been with Granny Garma for most of the day, being introduced to various people, meeting with elders and being dragged into the woman's reckless lifestyle.

“Sorry to intrude, Chief Gram,” said Varona, skittering inside the doorway.

“You're not intruding, Varona,” Gram assured her. “No school today?” he asked Bon casually.

“Yeah, but I got off a little early from work, so we came here to try one more time to solve this damn problem,” he sighed, flopping down on the couch and opening his laptop from the civil engineering school. Hesitantly, Varona settled next to him.

“You mean that sewage one?” wondered Gram. Bon nodded.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “We have to find a way to increase the carrying capacity without over-taxing the processing plant or power grid,” he explained. “The tanks in the processing plant can't be enlarged, and more plants can't be added without one or the other of the conditions being broken,” he finished.

“We've tried all manner of scenarios, too,” complained Varona, forgetting about Gram as her mind tried to find a new way to solve the problem.

“Sounds challenging,” Gram mused, stopping to look over Bon's head. On his screen, the diagram of the exercise city-ship's layout was displayed, along with the sewer processing system highlighted, window after window after window scrolling relevant data. Gram found himself dissecting the issue in his mind.

“I still say that we propose an expansion of the system by means of closing off this secondary over-flow area and routing a set of low-draw transfer pumps to handle the pumping,” Varona said to Bon. “It will just meet the power requirement, it won't really be expanding the plant, since it is separate from the processing plant, and it won't even cost that much,” she pitched. Bon started to nod.

“I think…” he began, only to have Gram interrupt him.

“Bad idea,” he said, almost to himself. “That secondary over-flow area was designed for emergency bilge and balance pumping - it opened out into the ocean at the far end of the valve, and if something goes wrong, you'll have sewer-contaminated water flooding your lower residential and mechanical spaces, not to mention that the balance would have to be re-trimmed as the sewer level rose or fell,” he noted.

Bon and Varona gaped at him, staring at the diagram. “Well, shit!” exclaimed Bon. “So much for that idea,” he grumbled. “I'm out of ideas, Varona,” he sighed.

“Enlarge the pipes,” said Gram, sounding satisfied. Craning his neck, he saw Gram nodding to himself.

“Pipes?” he asked, lost. Gram nodded.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “After all, you just have to increase the carrying capacity, right? Well, you have the current pipes running at more than ninety percent volume, but the city-ship's mechanical passages has enough room to replace it with a larger-diameter pipe from the collection lines to the processing plant, so all you have to do is increase the volume of the pipes that feed the plant.”

Bon and Varona blinked at his simple, low-tech fix. “No power consumption increase,” Varona processed the suggestion.

“Plant is entirely left as-is, and the costs would be minimal,” he considered. After a glance at each other, the two lunged forward, feverishly typing on the keyboards. Moments later, the displays started to run a simulation of the suggestion.

“If we increase the pipe volume by only seventy percent, over the length of the feed, we gain more than the minimum increased capacity load, and the pipes would only be running at seventy percent of volume, allowing for future increases!” squealed Varona. Bon nodded eagerly.

“Yeah, but look at the numbers for tripling the pipe diameters!” he enthused. “Wow! At a mere forty six percent bearing volume, we have the target capacity locked solid! And from the worksheet, the tubing for the larger diameter is cheaper than the intermediate sizes, too!” he said giddily.

“Hey, look!” responded Varona eagerly, “the larger diameter tubing is even pressure rated for pressurized chemical cleaning!”

“We have a winner!” gloated Bon, grabbing Varona in a hug. Gram smiled as he moved back to the kitchen to find himself something to drink. “Thanks, Gram!” Bon called out, the two of them swiftly closing their laptops and grabbing their gear for their class. “Come on, Varona,” said Bon eagerly, “let's go in early and get the simulation ready! I bet the teacher flips out when we give him out solution!” he bragged.

“But, it was Chief Gram's idea,” Varona reminded him, suddenly reminded of the other young man in the house. “I don't think we should use it,” she said meekly.

“Why not?” asked Gram. “Bon would have figured it out eventually,” he shrugged. “Besides, I only had that idea because I ran into something similar on the Hope,” he dismissed it. Seeing that the girl was going to fight him on this, he headed her off. “Run with it, Varona,” he said firmly. “Nothing in the rules prohibited outside assistance, so you aren't doing anything wrong,” he pointed out. Bon blinked at Gram's words.

“R…really?!” breathed Varona. Gram nodded.

“Really,” he confirmed. Bon grabbed Varona's hand and tugged her out the door.

“Come on,” he said eagerly, “let's go surprise the teacher.” Once the two were exiting the settlement, he spoke up again. “Man, I hate it when he does that,” he said wryly.

“Does what?” wondered Varona.

“When he just walks up and solves a problem I have been busting my ass on for days like it was nothing,” the young man admitted ruefully.

“He's the chief, Bon,” Varona reminded him. “He's supposed to figure out the right answer.” Bon watched her as she spoke.

“I don't know why you are so shy around him, Varona,” he shared. “He's just Gram, you know?” he prodded her. Varona gave him a strange look.

“He is the Chief,” she said. “You grew up with him, not knowing his importance, so you wouldn't understand, but to us aborigines, he is the core of our identity,” she said. It was a talk to the two of them had had before. Bon just couldn't find the mental framework to understand the awe that Varona held Gram and Vess in.

Sensing the need for a new topic, Varona switched tracks. “So, I've been seeing you reading a lot of ads lately,” said the girl. “Planning on adding another job or something?” she wondered. Bon shook his head.

“No,” he replied. “The current one is enough for now, since I'm take this class,” he continued. “I've just been looking at some options; that's all,” he finished. I need to know how much it will cost to get my own place.

“Options?” wondered Varona, spinning lightly on the balls of her feet and walking backward so she could watch Bon's face. “What kind of `options'?” she pried.

“Oh, just getting some idea of what it costs to live here on Ligaoga,” he hedged. It's actually a little cheaper to live here than on Ardena, he left unsaid, If I can get a job as a civil engineer, I should be able to finally stop mooching off Gram and Vess. That thought both excited him, and depressed him. He suddenly realized that Varona had been speaking to him.

“Sorry,” he replied, embarrassed that he had zoned out on his girlfriend. “What was that?”

“Well, at least you are willing to ask me to repeat myself,” grinned Varona. “I said, I asked around about open homes in the settlement,” she said. Bon blinked.

“Why?” he wondered, lost. What is she looking for open homes for? he wondered. Varona blushed slightly.

“Uh, I thought that as a chieftain, you should have your own home, rather than living with the Chief and Chieftess,” she offered lamely. Bon considered that.

“So, um,” he tried for casual interest, “what did they say?”

-

“Gram? Vess?” asked a voice from the door to the house that the two called home in Ligaoga. Pushing the traditional flap aside, the visitor entered, seeing the door open. “Enora? Hello?” called the visitor again. Her ears detected the sound of water running. Stepping forward, she moved toward the bathroom.

Reaching the bedroom, she paused, seeing the bed was unmade and clothes were scattered around. Suppressing a small, playful smile, she looked over to the bathroom. She could hear someone in the shower. “Hello?” she called, peeking in.

Looking at the shower, she could see a reddish-brown haired form leaning against the wall, the shower nozzle pouring over her head. That's why she didn't answer, realized the woman. She can't hear much of anything with the water over her ears. After several moments, the young woman leaned back, running a hand over her hair as she straightened. “Hi, Enora,” said the visiting woman, who was leaning delicately against the sink.

“Ah!” gasped the girl, flinching. Turning to see her visitor, she briefly touched her chest, over her heart.

“Don't do that, Ester!” complained the girl. “You almost scared me to death,” she muttered.

“I called out several times,” shrugged Ester. “Are you here alone, Enora?” she asked. Enora nodded.

“Gram and Vess stepped out with Shie and Granny Garma,” she said. “Something about school or lodging or something,” shrugged the girl. “I decided to grab a shower before Bon got back from work, since he always leaves a mess.”

“I see,” replied Ester, glancing at the rumpled bed and strewn clothes. “Worked up a sweat?” she guessed. Enora blinked at the Naval Witch before following her sly suggestion.

“No!” she denied. Well, not this time, anyway, she mentally qualified, recalling what had been happening the last few nights. And probably not like she means it, the girl added. It was one of the reasons she had chosen to give herself a little time to think.

“Hmm,” hummed the short, black-haired woman. “Pity,” she breathed to herself. I thought, maybe Enora could… she shook the thought away. Stay on track, Ester, she sternly told herself. Enora turned off the water, accepted her towel from Ester's offered hand, and quickly dried off, moving out of the bathroom as she dried off. Once she was more or less dry, she draped the towel over the back of a chair to dry and plucked her pack off the floor at the foot of the bed. Opening it, she selected a fresh outfit, stepping into some nice but basic panties before wiggling into a pair of close-fitting shorts that came to mid-thigh and adding a tight tee-shirt to complete the outfit. Running a brush through her hair a few times, she closed her pack and set it back down on the floor.

“So, what brings you here, Ester?” asked Enora, tossing her head to the spot on the bed next to her. Ester gracefully sank down next to the teenager.

“I came to see if there were any new developments we should be aware of,” said the First Officer of the Aurora. “Since there was a supply run heading here anyway, I decided to come in person,” she explained.

“Supply run?” wondered Enora. Ester nodded.

“Aki and Junior had some shopping to do, and Poipoider wanted to see one of his `ladies',” Ester elaborated. “Since the Captain wanted to see if Gram and Vess had a plan yet, I volunteered to come see you all.”

“Well, Gram and Vess should be back before too long,” replied Enora. Ester watched the girl for a moment.

“Enora, is something wrong?” she asked the Earthling. Enora sighed.

“Not really, Ester,” she said. “I just have some things I have to work through.”

“I see,” replied Ester. Enora suddenly turned to her and grabbed her shoulder.

“Ester,” she began rapidly, “do you remember what you told me in the library, just before that whole mutiny thing? About you and your relative?” she asked Ester. The Naval Witch frowned.

“I never said it was about me,” she said slowly. “How…?”

“Oh, please!” scoffed Enora. “When a girl starts talking about `certain people' in `certain places', it's pretty damn clear that she's talking about herself,” noted the girl. “It's like when you want to ask your girlfriend's opinions on something, but don't want to admit to anything, so you say `my friend this' or `a girl I know that'. So, who was the other party?” she wondered. It was the one part of the puzzle she hadn't placed. For several heartbeats, nothing was said, and just before Enora decided that Ester wouldn't answer her, the raven-haired girl replied.

“It was my cousin,” she said. “Our ideology clashed, and we destroyed our civilization,” she said quietly. “To this day, I can't say that either of us was wrong,” she added softly. Enora nodded.

“Politics, right?” she asked the older woman. Ester twitched a shoulder.

“It could be called that,” she agreed. “Why ask?” she wondered.

“I…” Enora trailed off, re-formulating her question. “If you had to make the same choice again, knowing that it might end up the same way, would you?” she asked the other girl. “Honestly, Ester,” she added, her tone tense.

The Naval Witch considered that for several moments. “Yes, Enora,” she said quietly, “I would.”

The silence that followed that was broken by the return of Vess and Gram. Spotting Ester, Gram smiled.

“Ester!” he called out, he and Vess swiftly moving into the room. “Perfect,” he breathed, absently resting a hand on Ester's hair. “We need to get to Harras, Ester,” he said. “Can you help us?” he asked her.

“Of course!” she replied immediately, her cheeks blushed with color. Vess grabbed her pack and handed Gram's to him. Seeing this, Enora snatched up her own pack.

“Does this mean I can finally see your ship?” hoped the teenager. Gram grinned at her.

“That's right, Enora,” he confirmed. “We're going to pick up the Ship of Hope.”

-

“Holy shit,” breathed Gram, looking at the serenely-floating Ship of Hope. Beside him, Vess, Enora and Ester were just as shocked. In the months since their ship had limped into the dry-dock on Harras city-ship, Doctor had completely re-made the ship. “Doctor, what did you do?” he asked the older man, who was smirking in smug self-satisfaction.

“I repaired your ship, Gram,” he said casually, though his tone was soaked in giddy excitement. “All the items on the list are done, and while I was at it, I made a few changes and upgrades on my own,” he explained. “Here are the new specs for your SHIELD ship,” he said blandly, handing his terminal to the young man. Let's see what you think of the `Doc Special' Fast Heavy Cruiser, he eagerly thought, watching Gram closely, but not overtly.

Gram felt Vess and Ester press in to see the display as well. Enora didn't crowd in because she had no idea what the figures meant, and was still absorbing her first look at the Ship of Hope. As the data scrolled along, complete with three dimensional diagrams and models, the two women and Gram could only stand there with their jaws open. Eventually, Ester managed to speak.

“How did you find…I mean, who in their right mind would…what is this supposed to be?!” she breathed, confused, shocked - and very impressed.

“I present you, Gram River, with the first - and only! - Fast Heavy Cruiser on Mars,” answered the man snarkily. “I'm thinking of calling it the Elizabeth-class SHIELD ship,” he added proudly.

“Touch obvious, no?” muttered Vess. “Can she really do what the specs claim?” pressed the blonde, tapping on the tablet to get more detailed readouts on the engines and armament system.

“All the simulations and models say `yes',” Doctor answered. “Of course, I haven't had a chance to do a shake-down cruise yet, but I see no reason to doubt the simulations of the speed, range and maneuverability of the improved Hope,” he added. “We all know that the armament system works just fine,” he reminded them.

Ester poked at the small terminal, calling up the revised armament configuration and stores. “I'm impressed,” she admitted grudgingly. “You have managed to bring her up to near-battleship-class offensive capability, and her armor is as good as the Aurora's,” she noted.

“Actually,” disagreed Doctor casually, “the Hope is better armored than the Aurora is; excluding the bow, of course,” he qualified. “That armor is cutting edge stuff, girl! Very capable and durable, but only half as heavy and a third of the thickness of the armor on the Aurora, in fact; with it and the new main engine, she should be able to out-run any other SHIELD ship on Mars - as well as most private craft,” he added.

“Lanmarine Interceptor four-coil, powering two tuned main vents and four auxiliary sprint vents,” Doctor described. “Post cooler, pressurized boost injectors, dual-manifold regulator to a three-phase output…she's not as quiet as some small patrol boats, Gram, but she's a certified speedster,” he grinned at the man. “Your range is limited only by your stores now; and I even managed to get you another modest storage room by eliminating the old fuel cells for the engine you used to have,” he added. “Oh, and that cramped set of rear-most crew quarters has been re-worked as well, so your crewing capacity is up to about an even two dozen, not counting your great cabin and the first officer's cabin,” he recalled.

“Amazing,” breathed Gram. Doctor nodded.

“I am a genius,” he replied, feigning modesty. “Your ship's system has been doing non-stop testing - at least, what she could while in dock - and I've been massaging and tuning the refitted parts and systems to optimize them for you,” he went on.

“We should go say `hi' to NAMI,” Vess suggested to Gram. He nodded.

“Right,” he agreed, heading for the boarding arm. The rest followed along. Entering the ship's hull, Gram felt like he was entering his home in Ligaoga. They noticed the repairs made to the hatch, the fixed lighting and replaced decking area as they moved toward the bridge. Reaching it, the hatch opened and they stepped onto the bridge.

“Gram, Vess,” came the voice of their ship's system, NAMI. “Welcome back,” the AI's voice sounded almost happy.

“We're glad to be back, NAMI,” said Gram. “Are we ready for our shakedown cruise?” he asked her.

“Affirmative, Gram,” the AI confirmed. “Welcome back aboard, Ester,” the AI added. “Unknown person on bridge,” she observed. Gram blinked.

“Oh! NAMI, this is Enora Taft,” he introduced her. “Grant her crewman status,” he said. NAMI's display blinked, a window popping up briefly with Enora's picture and some code next to it.

“Understood, Gram,” the AI said. “Welcome to the crew of the Ship of Hope, Enora. The Hope is under the command of captains Gram and Vess,” she formally informed the new crewperson. “Ship's system is NAMI,” she completed the introductions.

“Nice to meet you, NAMI,” Enora replied. Wow! She really is like MAKI, the girl marveled, recalling the ship's system on the Aurora. Behind the group, Doctor pouted.

“Can't greet me, NAMI?” he asked her, hurt. “And we have spent so much time together, and have such a deep friendship, too!”

“Dry dock supervisor Doctor,” came the toneless reply. “Overwrite dry dock access?” she asked her captains. Doctor sniffed disdainfully.

“Not just yet, NAMI,” Gram declined. She is acting more like Vess every day, he thought, amused. “We're going to take a tour of the rest of the ship with Doctor,” he added as the group moved off the bridge. “Release the locks on the shipboard systems, and run diagnostics on those systems as well,” he added.

“Understood,” confirmed the AI. As they moved through the ship, Doctor explained the changes he had made, as well as the improvements. As they reached the hanger, Vess lightly scampered up to her Flick, opening the cockpit and hopping inside. A few moments later, Gram heard the RB's engines come up as Vess confirmed the condition of her fighting craft. After a few minutes, she turned the systems off and climbed down.

“Flick's ready,” was all she said to Gram and the others. Gram nodded. Doctor studied the RB.

“You know,” he said as the others started to leave the hanger, “I'd love to get a better look at that Buckler, Vess,” he noted.

“Not right now,” was the distracted reply from the blonde. Sighing, the older man followed the other four. Eventually, they ended up in the engine room, where Gram avidly surveyed the new motor. Vess wasn't as mechanically-inclined as he was, but even she appreciated the aura of power and speed that the shiny new motor exuded. Gram asked NAMI to power it up, and she replied that it was at idle even then. Surprisingly, it was quieter than the small port motors were. Gram knew that when he opened them up in the blue oceans of Mars, they would make their power heard - and felt! - but at standby, they were like dozing cats. They purr quietly, but they'll roar when awakened, Gram thought happily.

“So, what say we do that sea trial?” suggested Ester, almost eagerly. Gram shared a sharp smile with Vess, who nodded briefly.

“Doctor, cut the dock gate open,” Gram said. The man nodded, tapping commands into his terminal.

“It will take the BALLS about ten minutes to do the job,” he reported. Gram nodded.

“Let's get to the bridge, then,” he said, the five of them quickly moving to the bridge, Gram and Vess sighing in unison as they settled into their command chairs. Ester took the wheel after a glance at Gram, while Doctor and Enora settled into the stations in front of the command chairs.

When Doctor announced that the dock would open in one minute, Gram told NAMI to bring the engine to ready and prepare to leave the dock. Faintly, the group heard the powerful engine purr a little louder. Doctor checked his board, counting down the seconds. Right on cue, the dock gate retracted, and the ship was ready to leave the dock area. Ester gave the command for ahead slow, and delicately guided the ship out of the dock. As it cleared the outer gate, NAMI reported contact with three ships, moving toward them from starboard, speed fourteen knots.

“Oh, crap,” muttered Doctor. Ester's eyes narrowed.

“Sold us out again?” she asked tightly. The man shook his head.

“If I had of sold you out, you'd never have reached the Hope,” he pointed out, “and even if you did, she wouldn't have been in operational condition, now would she?” he asked reasonably.

“Unknown ships signatures suggest Earth Forces patrol ships, Porpoise-class,” NAMI continued her assessment. “Course and speed indicate that they are moving to intercept us,” she warned.

“Well, what say we get this sea trial under way?” Doctor smiled at Gram, winking. Gram chuckled.

“We better, or Captain Elizabeth might decide to come rushing in, guns blazing,” he said. Doctor perked up.

“Elizabeth is watching?!” he asked eagerly. Gram nodded. The older man actually tittered in excitement.

“Well, what are you waiting for, boy?” he said excitedly. “Let's show her what a good job I did on this ship!” he begged. “Drop the hammer and let's go!” Gram smiled, his hand reaching over to catch Vess's briefly.

“Shall we?” he murmured to her. Vess nodded.

“Of course we should,” she agreed, her smile sharp.

“NAMI,” Gram addressed his AI, “you heard the lady: let's drop the hammer. Come to starboard, Ester. We're going to draw them away from Harras and the Aurora. Ahead full, counter-intercept course for the three patrol ships,” he directed. Ester smiled.

“Aye, Captain,” she said spinning the wheel. Beneath them, their ship leapt forward as smoothly and gracefully as a leopard. The outside view reflected their swift acceleration.

“Enemy ships have flooded torpedo tubes,” reported NAMI. “Torpedoes in the water,” she said a moment later. “Detecting six Beta-class fishes,” she added. The Doctor snorted.

“Those might as well be spitballs,” he scoffed scornfully. “Those can't even scratch the surface of your armor!”

“But it'd be a pity to scratch the paint job,” Gram countered. “Vess?”

“Countermeasures launched from lateral array,” his lover reported, being fully in synch with him.

“Let's see what this kitty can do,” murmured Gram, seeing their speed slip easily past forty knots. “Take us to flank, NAMI,” he said to the AI.

“Aye, Captain,” confirmed NAMI, the ship surging forward again. On the screen, the three vessels grew swiftly as they broke the fifty knot mark.

“You know,” mused Doctor, watching the Earth Forces patrol ships looming in front of the Hope, “you could probably ram them without damaging anything, thanks to the new armor,” he noted.

“Not on your life!” snapped Vess. Ramming was not something she liked; at least, outside of the bedroom. “Ester,” she said.

“Got it, Vess,” said the Naval Witch, deftly manipulating the wheel. “NAMI, give me ten degrees port list,” she said, the ship tilting to the side.

“Ten degrees port list,” confirmed NAMI. “Trim steady,” she added. The larger cruiser sliced cleanly through the smaller patrol ships, who were already beginning their turns to pursue. “Returning list to zero,” NAMI said, the ship leveling out. Gram touched his terminal, and part of the main display showed engine readouts.

“Man, that bad boy isn't even breathing hard yet,” he marveled, seeing the engine readouts.

“That is quiet the monster,” agreed Ester. “And yet the controls feel so light and precise!” she all but gushed. “The responses are crisp and immediate, so this ship feels more like a Buckler than a SHIELD ship,” she thought out loud.

“Warning, torpedoes in the water,” NAMI warned them. “Stern-launched Epsilon Mark Three, according to the acoustic signatures,” she warned.

“Swordfish?” asked Doctor, impressed. “Those are rare,” he said to no-one in particular. Gram switched the display to tactical. The torpedoes were gaining on the ship, though not very quickly.

“Doctor, how much do you think we can push the engine?” he asked.

“Well, she isn't fully burned-in, but all the tests have been good, so I think we can push her to about one oh five, one ten without too much trouble, why?” he asked.

“Well, those fish are fast, but that speed kills the range,” he said. “I figure that since we want to see what this monster can do, we should find out if we can out-run the fastest fish on Mars,” he said. Doctor smiled.

“I'm game,” he replied. Gram glanced at Vess, who smiled at him. His eyes touched Ester, who nodded once, a smile on her lips. Glancing forward, he caught Enora's eyes, the girl's face flushed with excitement. Her smile told him all he needed to know.

“NAMI,” he directed confidently, “disable the engine regulation program, and bring the output up to one hundred and five percent - gradually, of course,” he directed.

“Aye, Captain,” the AI confirmed her orders. Slowly, the ship gained speed, the closing torpedoes seeming to slow as they. A moment later, NAMI reported one hundred and five percent output, engine steady, all green. The torpedoes were creeping up on them.

“Ok, ease us up to one hundred ten percent, NAMI,” he said, seeing the ship break through the sixty five knot mark. Faintly, the tone and pitch of the engine rose. At seventy knots, the torpedoes stopped gaining. At seventy seven knots, they suddenly faded away; their fuel was spent. “NAMI, you can ease back to cruise now,” he directed.

“Understood, Gram,” said the AI. “reducing power from one hundred eight percent to seventy percent,” she said. “All systems show green across the board,” she added.

“How about the three enemy boats?” asked Vess.

“Currently, they are beyond sensor range,” said NAMI. “Given our cruising speed, it will be at least two hours before they can overtake us again, assuming that they maintain maximum power the entire time,” she calculated.

“Well, no point wasting time on them,” muttered Vess, smiling as she tapped commands into her station's terminal. A moment later, the five of them heard a dull, subdued whoosh! from the nose of the ship. “Odor-print decoy torpedo launched,” she shared with the others. “Now, let's go meet up with the Aurora,” the girl suggested, smiling at her lover.

“By all means!” seconded Doctor. Happily, the resurrected Ship of Hope swung around and moved toward where the pirate ship lay concealed on the perimeter of Harras city-ship's sensor net.

-

“Sir!” screamed the leader of the trio of Earth Forces Elites, standing ram-rod straight and stiff as a board, her salute as precise and perfect as an illustration in a book. Indeed, she's probably as adaptable as an illustration, Doolittle thought to himself, wincing slightly at the bellow from the woman. I'm missing that tomboy Vestemona and her curvy friend Rosetta more and more, he silently lamented. Behind her, the other two EF Elites stood just as stiffly and properly.

“At ease,” Doolittle said calmly. His eyes caught something. “Sergeant Major, you seem to be wearing Lieutenant bars,” he noted.

“Sir, yes, sir! Battlefield commission, sir!” screamed the woman. Doolittle frowned.

“Really? I don't recall any papers crossing my desk,” he said, sitting down and tapping on his keyboard for a moment. “In fact, I see no mention of any promotions in the system,” he added.

“Sir! The commission came from the Earth Force Admiral - Mars division's desk, sir! No paperwork is necessary on the Mars Defense Force in that situation, sir!” she bellowed. Doolittle hummed.

“Indeed,” he sort-of agreed, “however, it is difficult to address someone properly when their rank changes, and nothing is said, is it not?” he baited her carefully.

“Sir! Proper rank insignia is mandatory for regulation uniform dress code, sir!” she deflected. Doolittle stared at her for a moment before glancing at the two behind her. Both wore the same sergeant's stripes as they had when they arrived. You know, that is interesting, he made a mental note. Somehow, I doubt that it was a battlefield promotion.

“In any event, congratulations, Lieutenant,” he dismissed the topic of the butter bars on her shoulders for the moment. “Now, as for why I sent for you,” he said, tapping keys once more. A moment later, a sheet of pesudo-paper slid out of the small hard-copy output slot of his terminal. Doolittle took a small orders memory card and swiped it across the reader/writer button on his desktop. “I have emergency orders for the three of you,” he said, handing the automation-stiff woman the hardcopy and memory card of the orders.

“Sir, yes, sir!” screamed the woman, flipping the paper over and scanning. Doolittle watched her carefully, without seeming overly interested in her reaction to the orders. If he hadn't been watching so carefully, he might have missed the slightest twitch of her left eye.

“As you know,” Doolittle began blandly, “Administrator Grace is currently convalescing from her injuries at her townhouse in Uppercity,” he said. “Due to the likelihood of another pirate attempt on her life, I have been asked to provide her some security,” he paused, “quiet security, Lieutenant,” he continued. “You three are it,” he finished.

“Sir!” screamed the woman. “We have not been trained as bodyguards, sir!”

“I am aware of that, Lieutenant,” came the reasonable reply from the portly Captain. “However,” he went on immediately, “you have already proven your prowess in dealing with pirates, have you not, Lieutenant?” he stressed the woman's rank. You should be more careful of bragging, my dear, he thought smugly, seeing the woman's jaw muscles tighten. “Besides, it's just for a week or so. View it as a break from your constant patrolling and engagements with pirate vessels. You'll be stationed in the trendy Uppercity's mid-dome neighborhood,” he enticed. “Good shopping, good restaurants, an easy assignment - hell, this is like being paid to be on vacation!” he chuckled, winking at the girl. She remained as stiff as a corpse with rigor mortis.

“Sir!” she began again. Doolittle let the smile slide from his face.

“You have your orders, Lieutenant,” he said firmly. A quick, jerky nod and another salute was his response.

“Sir! Orders received, sir!” she screamed. Doolittle casually saluted her, the woman and her two men crisply cut their saluted away, turned on their heels parade-ground style, and marched out of his office. Once they had been gone for a few minutes, Doolittle turned back to his terminal, tapping keys.

-

“Niall Poe,” answered the former leader of the Mars Independence Movement. “What can I do for you?” he asked. A moment later, the display of his video phone flickered and he found himself looking at a hard-eyed Anna Grace. “Oh,” he deadpanned. “My dear Administrator Grace,” he managed civility. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a call from you?” he wondered.

“Open the door, Poe,” she said tightly. Niall Poe frowned.

“What?” he wondered, lost. Did that attempt on her life drive her completely insane? he wondered.

“Poe, open the gate to your home so I can come inside,” she said through clenched teeth. “I've been in this fucking shuttle sub for longer than I care to think about, and my body is fucking killing me!” she snarled.

Blinking, Poe checked his perimeter sensors, and to his surprise, he found a small recon shuttle from the MDF at the approach to his concealed home and headquarters. After a moment of thought, he tapped in the code that allowed it to pass. The fact that it wasn't detected before she called means that it is not a transfer shuttle, but a military recon sub, he realized. Was she trying to mislead me, or does she not know the difference between civilian transfer and military scout subs? he wondered. A few minutes later, and he heard the sub dock at his small sub pool. “Suppose I should be civil, at least,” he muttered, straightening his jacket and moving toward the submarine moon pool.

Reaching the hatch to the moon pool, he opened it to see Anna Grace climbing out of the darkened hull of the military scout sub. She had a small suitcase with her, and her other hand held a laptop. Niall Poe calmed his nerves as much as possible, and greeted his guest. “I see you are recovering nicely from your injuries, Administrator Grace,” he said, offering her his hand. To his irritation, she smoothly slipped the handle to her suitcase into his offered hand.

“Yes, thank you for your concern, mister Poe,” she smiled at him. “Thank you for taking my bag,” she added, a glint in her eye. Niall managed a smile in return.

“Not at all, Administrator Grace,” he said, raising the suitcase. “Allow me to carry it to your room,” he continued, taking two steps to the side of the moon pool and dropping the suitcase into the dark water. Anna watched her suitcase sink into the oceans of Mars, her eye twitching.

“Why, thank you, mister Poe,” she said through locked teeth. “I am looking forward to my stay here,” purred the woman, eyes glowing with vicious anticipation. Niall Poe's eyes were just as animated as the Administrator's eyes. Unnoticed, the pilot of the recon sub watched it from the cramped bridge of the sub.

Shaking her head, she swiftly typed up her initial report for her boss. Let's see, she framed the report, primary objective complete. Package is delivered. Survival of package and host unlikely. Hostilities are high. Remaining at post for duration of mission for safety. Time of next report uncertain. The young lieutenant reviewed her report. “Yes, that about sums it up,” she muttered, encoding the message and sending it.

Pulling herself out of the cozy bridge area, she moved back to the minimum living area. Settling on the barely-sufficient bunk, she reached across the narrow isle and started a cup of coffee. Reaching up, she tapped the redundant command to close the hatch, but not lock it. Rummaging around in the small pack that was wedged in the wall locker at the foot of the bed, she retrieved her small multi-function unit. Activating it, she opened her journal, swiftly jotting an entry: Assigned to baby-sit two politicos with the intelligence and maturity of two year-olds. Currently in a Torpedo Ray-class recon sub at the base of a politico dissident with orders to escort that dissident's arch enemy. Though the ship is set up to house a three-man crew for extended periods, I am solo crewing. MDF - it's not just an adventure, it's a mother fucking kick to the head!

Closing her journal, she paused to collect her coffee and sip it delicately. Setting it back down, she brought up her current reading list, selecting the novel she had been reading. “What was I thinking when I signed up?” she sighed, getting comfortable on the bunk. Settled in, she let the book take her away from the sub, Mars and orders.