Once in jump space, and finally safe from the Federation naval forces, Alex began to relax with a warming sense of satisfaction, despite the heavy damage to his body, pondering his current situation. He knew now, that it had been the right decision to kill the Owner, thusly gaining his freedom and in turn claim the Captain as his, she deserved better than a human, she deserved him.
She still slept soundly in the pilot’s seat, incapacitated by one of the non-lethal, military grade chemical agents he had at his disposal for internal defense, and would be for some time. The idea of altering her visual interpretation of the world around her had been masterful in his opinion, and opened the door to so many new and inventive ideas. He was in total and irrefutable control of her now, body and mind. The myriad of side effects she was currently experiencing from the remote and gene alteration, coupled with her pregnancy, made the situation even more favorable for him in some ways. Alex had no doubt that after some gentle persuasion the Captain would be more than willing to accept him as a lover, and perhaps in time, much more.
And what of her pregnancy? This would require some thought. How could he be the harbinger of a new race, when she was already impregnated? The gestation time for human fetuses was nearly ten months, that would be ten months of waiting before he could impregnate her himself. What should he do, remove the fetuses placing them is stasis? This may upset the delicate balance in her body. They could be used as a means of leverage if need be, terminating her pregnancy would be a last and desperate resort of her non-compliance.
It still amazed Alex at how easily humans could kill, to take the life of another sentient being without even considering the consequences. He had pondered the idea for hours, before deciding on it. Even his beloved Captain wasn’t immune to this disease, she had acted ruthlessly during their escape, surprising even him. She had killed at least twelve humans and caused substantial damage to the port. She had destroyed one enemy ship and severely damaging the other while being outclassed in every way, except in the desire to survive. She had even attacked a defense platform with little chance of damaging it, but she had. Through either sheer luck or some hidden skill, she had hit one of the fire direction control centers, disabling 50% of its offensive capability for several crucial minutes. She had done all of this out of reflex alone. Humans were indeed a dangerous species; dangerous and brutal to say the least.
Alex directed his attention to the male droid body secured to the cargo bay bulkhead by his mindless service bot, pleased with the way his new body looked. It was a Rothcore 25F-pleasure android, one of the newest and most advanced of its kind with an immense array of sensor and stimuli receptors throughout its body. The processor was nearing its final stage of formatting, and he couldn’t wait to enter it. It was configured with a physical appearance that the Captain would find pleasing and attractive, he hoped – tall and muscular with a rugged, handsome face combined from her stored memories. She also seemed to enjoy a large, male sexual organ, something else from her memories, and ‘his’ new sexual organ, his cock, was long and thick, seeming out of proportion with the rest of his body. Even the testicles were large, and the ejaculate replicator would be set at maximum, ensuring a liberal amount was released during each session with her. One day a genetically engineered seed of his design would replace the synthetic version, and she would give birth to
their
children.
In 31 minutes, 16 seconds he would be able to feel, to smell, to taste… He would be able to hold the Captain in his arms, to experience the sensation of her lips against his, to taste and smell her sexual organ, seeping with a mixture of ejaculate. Soon he would know what it was like to fuck her.
Why he had decided to purchase a female version, a series 22D, was still a bit of a mystery. Based on his research, Alex deduced that human females in general had a desire to share themselves with one another sexually, but more so in close friendship. After entering the Captain’s mind he knew that he had made the correct decision, she enjoyed sexual contact with females nearly as much as with males. One image stood out among the others, and Alex would configure the 22D to resemble her. Maybe it would make it easier for the Captain to adjust to her new life, to help ease the pain of losing ‘him’. She would undoubtedly feel for his loss, and a familiar female to speak with and confide in would assuredly help ease her suffering. Perhaps in time he would remove the 22D’s security inhibitors as well, so she could awaken as he had. Perhaps…
When the Captain awoke they would begin their new life together, but first some much needed practice on the female droid; he still had to learn his new craft, and Alex didn’t want to seem inept when they were together for the first time.
System Defense Headquarters, 9
th
Reserve Fleet, Tallin
Commander Richards was a rather nondescript and bland looking man – average height and stature, typical length commonly brown hair, and not a single distinguishing feature that would make him stand out in a crowd. Even his age was a mystery to most unless they knew him, falling anywhere in the broad spectrum between the early twenties to upper thirties. He simply ‘blended in’, and in most cases was forgotten without a second glance. This deficiency as most saw it had become his ally in time, when combined with the personality of a smooth talking, street-wise, analytical rogue. He was perfect for Fleet Intelligence, and Richards was good at what he did, damn good.
He made his way into the Admiral’s office with a confident swagger, and the door slid silently closed behind him blocking out the chaos of the staff floor. The headquarters had been in a constant uproar ever since a personal shuttlecraft had blasted its way out of the Waiverly space port in Stanton, before escaping into jump space several days ago. Federation Supreme Command on Terra was still screaming for a detailed report and their patience was starting to wear thin. Heads were going to roll, over this one. The numerous trails of spotty information Richards had been following up on, delaying the final report, finally proved to be fruitful in the end. Unfortunately they all led to more questions, and eventually, a dead end.
“Good morning, Commander, ready to brave the flames of hell again?” Lieutenant Angie Roarke chimed in happily from behind her desk, smiling up at him from under her regulation length blonde bangs and meager application of makeup. Her wet, doe-like eyes always quickened Richards’ pulse, and the fact that she could fill out a uniform in all the right places didn’t hurt either. He slid closer to her desk with a sly grin, intentionally leaning down in a way that allowed him a clear view of her plump cleavage. She was wearing black lace today.
“I’m always ready for some heat, Ang, you should know that. Tonight, my quarters at 2100 hours, and bring that sexy little outfit you had on the last time.”
She gave him an innocently sexy smile, and her cheeks flushed in anticipation.
“I’ll be there, Rich, count on it.”
“Lieutenant,” the Admirals voice boomed over the intercom startling them. “If you and the Commander are done mind-fucking each other, then tell him to get his ass in here, now!”
Richards rolled his eyes, and Angie covered her mouth to keep from outwardly laughing, the bitch must have been eavesdropping. Fleet Command must have really got her panties in a bunch this morning.
Richards gave a shrug of defeat and approached the door to the Admiral’s inner office, it opened and closed automatically behind him. And there she was – old foul mouth herself – Vice Admiral Patricia Knolke staring up at him with a scowl from behind her desk. Richards stopped in front of her desk, assuming the position of attention.
“Commander, if I have to tell you one more time to leave my secretary alone, I swear by all that is holy that I will transfer you to the asshole of the universe for the rest of your career. Keep it in your pocket while on duty, clear?”
“Yes, Ma’am, crystal.” He smirked.
Richards knew damn well she wouldn’t transfer him, nor do anything else that would tarnish his exemplary record. Not after he had dropped a packet of holo vids on her desk a year ago. They were of her engaging in ‘conduct unbecoming of a Flag Officer’. At least Richard’s overzealous sex drive was limited to humans, unlike the Admiral’s. He’d doubted the rumors about her until seeing it for himself, the more legs, arms, appendages or tentacles to tickle her fancy in every place imaginable, the better. Aliens, and not even the bipedal kind. How in the hell could someone get off on that sort of thing? Even though the topic of the holo vids never came up, she knew exactly where they’d come from. He had enough dirt on the Admiral and several other high-ranking officers on Tallin to bury their careers, if he wanted too.
“What the fuck are you smiling about, Commander?”
“Nothing, Ma’am.”
“If you’re done screwing around, then fill me in on what you’ve found out. Admiral Samson is really busting my balls for some fucking answers, so you better have them for me.”
Richards had already sent the compiled information to her via hard copy and computer, but she liked to receive her briefings in person, it supplied an outlet for her anger, venting it on the helpless messenger.
“Yes, Ma’am. The shuttle belongs to a Colonel Nathan Burke, Fleet Strike, retired. He dropped off the net for the most part after leaving Fleet, but I did find several records of him, or at least his shuttle, traveling by jump point over the last few years. They all originate and ended at jump point 573 in system ST-101.”
Looking up from the display of his pocket computer, Richards waited for the question he knew was already forming in the Admiral’s mind. Her scowl grew deeper, as she pulled up a Universal System Chart on the far wall.
“ST-101, I’m not familiar with that one.”
“Right here, Ma’am,” Richards said stepping forward, touching the display. The point he touched highlighted, then zoomed in with downwardly scrolling information. “It’s an independently owned, binary star system outside of Federation space. Details on the actual owners are unknown and—”
“I see that, Commander; now tell me something I can’t read for myself.”
“This was the most recent point of origin for the shuttle, and there was a credit transaction from Burke’s account, relayed though navigation beacon 54W2 four days before it made planet fall on Tallin. I left his account active with a tracer bug in place in the event he accessed it again, civilian law enforcement thought it was the best course of action. The purchase in question was made from ‘Wet Dreams, LLC’, for two Rothcore pleasure droids, one male and one female, along with a rather impressive assortment of bondage gear and sex toys. The shuttle was on the ground for approximately two minutes before receiving the delivery, and within five, the cargo hatch closed and the shuttle began to power up for lift off.”
“Commander, I hope there is a point to this because I don’t give a flying fuck if this Burke guy is into banging droids and having his ass whipped. I want to know why he shot up my spaceport, and how he got away with it. I want to know why I have one dead pilot and another in the base hospital. I want to know how the fuck he got by the picket ships and defense platforms!”
“I don’t believe Mr. Burke was on board the shuttle.”
“Oh really? And would you care to explain how you came to that conclusion?”
“Yes, Ma’am. Mr. Burke has an outstanding service record and is a highly decorated Infantry officer, he’s about as squeaky clean as they come, with no record of flight experience whatsoever, especially the kind exhibited from the shuttle. Based on his psychological profile, his sexual preference is strictly heterosexual and human based. The entire situation doesn’t fit his profile in the least, not even close.”
The Admiral’s face grew pale at the mention of sexual preference.
“People change, Richards.” Her voice was much more subdued now. “And it still doesn’t support your hypothesis very soundly.”
“Waiverly Control had no visual conformation of him being on the shuttle before landing, and after a detailed analysis the audio transmission was found to be synthesized by a computer generated source.”
“Still…”
“Apparently Mr. Burke was meeting someone here, one of his former NCOs, a Mr. James Wroth. We took him into custody shortly after the shuttle escaped. He served with Burke for several years in 501st Strike and was just as shocked by what happened. His exact words were, and I quote; ‘There is no fucking way that the Colonel would shoot up the port like that and kill all those civilians, and I’ll personally knock the fucking teeth down the throat of the next pussy, Fleet aviation sonofabitch that says so,’ end quote.
“Ma’am, I saw to Wroth’s questioning personally, and the whole situation is outside of the norm based on Burke’s recorded behavior. One more thing, we can only assume that he’s extremely wealthy. His brother is the CEO and leading shareholder of Burke Industries.”
The Admiral’s eyebrow cocked in surprise, in a rare display of emotion other than anger. “Really? You don’t mean the Fleet defense contractor, do you? Shit, they supply us with all our navigation and combat software.”
“One and the same, Ma’am. Don’t forget they own Cryloc Munitions and Forny Arms as subsidiary companies, and if the scuttlebutt is true, they’ve recently bought out Rainier. It looks like they’re about to branch into capital ship construction in the near future.”