Chapter 1 - Old Acquaintances
For a long, uncomfortable time, the only sound was the low hum of idling
machines.
"Gate 12," said the cold, mechanical voice from the speaker, its harsh tone
cutting through the atmosphere.
Despite the fact that Moira was waiting for it, the sudden sound startled her. A
moment later she almost collapsed in her chair in relief. She took a few moments
to reassure herself that she wasn't going to die, and straightened in her chair.
"About time you told me where I'm going," she muttered under her breath, keying
in the assigned Gate. A split second of calculations and the idling sound began
to slowly increase in intensity. The sensation of acceleration was barely
noticeable to Moira, but she had grown used to ignoring the minute motions after
the long and hazardous journey through the field of constantly moving asteroids.
Only now was she able to relax, despite the many times she had done this before.
Even after all those years, the trip had brought back memories... dark ones.
The space-station was slowly growing out the window before her. The space around
it was mostly clear of obstacles, and she knew that any asteroids she saw from
now on had the ability to turn her to glittering dust in a split second, and
what remained of the ship shortly after. He was very paranoid about security.
As the ship approached the dull, slightly shining bulk of the space-station,
Moira began to notice the additions since she had last seen it. Her blood red
eyes widened as the dark shapes around it grew in clarify, coalescing into
dangerous-looking weapon emplacements and high-powered sensors. He seemed to
have grown even more paranoid about defence, and didn't bother to hide it
anymore. To her relatively untrained eye, it was intimidating.
The station had increased in size, Moira saw as she moved closer and began to
notice familiar things. She theorised he had either found an easy source of
minerals, or had started stealing from a mining colony. Judging by the sheer
amount of firepower he was boasting, it was the latter.
Unable to contain her anxiety, Moira stood up from her seat and began pacing,
the jet-black suit that hugged her form squeaking softly with each movement.
Given the right angle, the light shining off its exterior showed the
strategically placed ports on its exterior, giving away its actual purpose as a
sleep-suit.
The nanotech enhanced suits were standard issue on all space craft. Despite the
tried and tested nature of the engines that powered the ships, there was always
the chance of failure, and the suits provided the hapless crew a relatively
comfortable way of sleeping off the intervening years.
For Moira, they provided her with what she classed as a useful piece of
clothing, and a nice way to humiliate and restrain anyone who happened to cross
her path. The two guards who had previously been defending her stolen ship were
now similarly suited and stowed safely in their tubes, headphones whispering
into their sleeping ears.
"Please slow your approach," the speaker informed her in the same, cold voice as
before. Moira ignored it, the soft click of her heels echoing around the small
control-room.
"Please slow your approach," it repeated. Moira would have thought it was
impossible, but the voice seemed even colder now, promising veiled consequences
for not answering. Frowning in annoyance, she paused by the console, her gloved
fingers flashing over the controls.
When no more warnings arrived, she returned to her pacing, fingers locked behind
her back. It was getting hard for her to sit still now; it had been several 'up'
days since she had fed, and she was easily agitated. She had spent the several
weeks journey to the station asleep, as her two human guards were bonded and she
had no intention of feeling ill after feeding from them. The journey would have
been much quicker, but she had been taking time to throw off pursuit, and the
ship hadn't had enough time to fully charge its' self.
She only gave the controls cursory attention as the ship slid into the docking
gate. There was a soft thud that resounded through the ship, and Moira calmly
adjusted her step to maintain balance. As soon as the ship was silent, she
smoothly changed from pacing to striding out of the control room.
The Council ship was considerably larger than the one she had left nose-first in
the ground back on Earth. A sharp left and she was in the kitchen, heading
straight for the fridge. She opened its steel door to a cloud of fog, evidence
of her jury-rigging the cooler. She frowned slightly at this, but reached into
the misty interior and pulled out the small case sitting alone on the top shelf.
With a quick check to ensure that its' contents were intact, Moira shut the
fridge and strode out of the kitchen.
Waiting for her at the bottom of the ramp was a familiar face. A disturbingly
familiar face, as Moira clearly remembered killing the little man who was
currently very much alive and looking up at her with an expression of obvious
impatience.
She saw the slight tightening around his eyes as he took in her outfit, and
smiled inwardly. If he was so busy checking out her breasts, he wouldn't notice
the barely visible bulge on the inside of her thigh where the gun lay.
"No hard feelings, Lyle?" Moira asked sweetly, cutting him off as he was about
to speak.
"Lyle?" the little man asked, his face creasing in confusion. "I don't know who
you mean, but I am not Lyle."
"My mistake," Moira said without a moment's hesitation. She was surprised
though... obviously things had changed a lot since she had been away, such as
Lyle apparently gaining himself a twin.
"Do you have the sample?" the twin asked, not even bothering to hide the urgency
in his voice.
Moira flicked open the case and ran it under his nose, snapping it shut before
he could get his sticky little fingers into it. His expression of excitement
made Moira cringe inwardly; she had already decided that this supposed twin
would soon join Lyle in the cold depths of space.
"Excellent," he hissed, his eyes flickering between the case, and the
black-covered breasts that sat slightly above. "Err... come this way, Mistress
Moira," he said after a second; seemingly remembering his purpose.
"Lead the way," Moira replied in a voice that oozed sweetness. When he turned
his back to her, Moira was certain that this was not Lyle. No-one who knew her
would be stupid enough to turn his back when she used that tone.
Leading her from the cold docking bay, the twin began to unerringly navigate
into the depths of the station. Moira noticed each and every time he gave either
the case or her bust a sideways glance, and after a few minutes of it she found
herself plotting more and more nasty ways to bring about his demise.
"My Master will be with you shortly," he announced suddenly, halting outside an
open doorway. He put a hand out expectantly, as if she was just going to hand
over the case.
"What do you want?" Moira asked nicely, smiling down at him. She almost punched
him in the face with rage when he smiled back at her.
"The case please... my Master has directed me to take it straight to the labs."
"Oh, I'm sure I can manage that myself!" Moira replied, deliberately adding a
slight edge to her voice. His idiocy astounded her, as his smile didn't waver.
Lyle's twin was exactly the same as the original; proof that Dominants can be
born without a brain.
"Sorry, but orders are orders," he said, shaking his head as if he was actually
regretful.
"Oh fine, take it," Moira said in exasperation, happy of any excuse to get rid
of the little man. The sample wasn't important to her anyway; its loss meant
little to her now, as she'd already learned plenty from it.
She strode into the room, feeling his gaze linger on her rear before the door
slid automatically shut behind her.
"You'd think that when someone returns after a dozen years, you'd make an effort
to meet them on time," Moira grumbled to the impassive screen dominating one end
of the room. The table she was leaning on sat in the middle of the otherwise
sparse room, giving it the appearance of a meeting place where someone had
stolen all the chairs.
Sighing irritably, Moira kicked off her heels and flexed her black-covered toes,
leaning forward to stretch. She'd been waiting for over fifteen minutes now, and
the only interesting thing she'd seen was an automated drone fly past the camera
that provided the image for the screen. As her restlessness began to increase,
she wished she could have been provided with someone to feed on whilst she
waited.
She heard the hiss of the door opening, and sighed loudly.
"It's about time," she muttered, and turned around to feel the sharp sting of a
dart hit her in the shoulder. Rather than look concerned, she calmly picked up
the small piece of metal from where it lay on the desk and looked up to the
door.
The Lyle-twin was standing in the doorway, his jaw open in surprise. Moira
calmly glanced down at her shoulder, her eyes scanning the still flawless shine
of the black latex-like covering.
"You know," she said, flicking the dart away and sliding one hand down between
her legs. "You really should be more observant. These suits are pretty tough!"
She raised her own weapon and fired once, taking him straight through the head.
The thud as the twin hit the ground was Moira's queue to stand up. Abandoning
her noisy heels, she walked over and took a hold on his shirt to drag him fully
into the room.
She gave the body lying half under the table a regretful look, thinking of all
the painful ways he could have died if he had been a little smarter.
"Jerk," she muttered, and strode calmly out into the hall, gun held ready.
--
Thanks to slavelucy for her proof-reading
--
