Three Square MealsChapter 85: Lingering Goodbyes And Promising Beginnings free porn video

Dawn over Drastin’s Fall was an eerie affair. The dim white sun crept over the horizon, illuminating the city in a ghostly pale glow – locally this time had come to be known as “corpselight”. Considering the nature of the city, the name was quite appropriate.

For over one-hundred-and-twenty-years, the planet Nobruna in the Beta2 Sagittarii system had been the primary source of Titanium for the Terran Federation. The vast bulk of the Terran fleet was plated in that resilient metal, so the Federation’s hunger for Titanium was voracious. The starport at Drastin’s Fall had been the central hub for exporting Titanium from Nobruna, but the city had begun to decline when the Titanium deposits started drying up.

Now the mining had all but ceased, with only a few minor players still attempting to chisel out the last of the Titanium the planet had to offer. All the major corporations had moved on, levelling off the strip-mined areas of the planet and simply letting the jungle reclaim it, keeping the environmental groups happy and the Federation’s green subsidies rolling in. However, when the corporations left, there was a power vacuum on the planet, and as Aristotle once said, “Horror Vacui” - nature abhors a vacuum.

There were scores of docking bays in Drastin’s Fall, which had previously been swamped with ore transporters but now lay idle for the most part. The bay owners were desperate for berthing charges and therefore more than willing to turn a blind eye to the shadier elements of the Federation. Drastin’s Fall had become a hotbed of illicit activity, with many a smuggler and black-market dealer making their base. The Beta2 Sagittarii system was located on the outer-rim, not far from the border with the Trankaran Republic. This far away from the bright glare of Terra and the Core Worlds, there were always citizens seeking to lose themselves in the shadowy underbelly of the Federation.

That was how William Fallow had come to arrive on that wretched planet. That wasn’t his real name of course, but he’d been forced to swiftly abandon his old life – it had been a prudent move, considering the charges of treason laid against him. He opened the lobby door to what had once been a plush apartment complex, but like the rest of Drastin’s Fall, the building had seen better days.

At the sound of the hydraulic door sliding open, the bundle of clothing huddled outside began to stir. “Spare a few credits for a meal, chief?” the man asked, holding out a shaky hand – a dead giveaway for stim addiction. “Used to be a miner ... fallen on hard times.”

William jumped at the sound of the man’s voice, then studiously ignored him just as he’d done every other day for the last few weeks. He walked briskly down the steps to the street, grimacing when he saw that it was raining that morning, as was often the case on Nobruna. Leaving the protective cover of the awning over the lobby entrance, he walked straight into the squall, the rain lashing his face. Lifting up the collar of his ill-fitting coat, he hunched his shoulders to stop the rain dripping down the back of his neck. He’d paid a lot for that coat nearly six months ago and he was loathe to get rid of the designer item, even though it was much too big for him now.

All the stress of being on the run had severely affected his appetite and he’d lost a lot of weight. His old self would have been overjoyed at the drastic reduction in his waistline, but William Fallow knew better. His gluttonous hunger had been replaced with a tense bundle of nerves during the day and bitter pangs of loneliness in the night.

Pale, unfriendly faces loomed out of the darkness, appearing like ghostly wraiths from the shadows. The rain pattered on the road, the constant spray of water forming an eerie mist across the tarmac, adding to that spectral illusion. William was constantly wary for danger, his eyes darting to every face as he searched for any glimmer of recognition. A hovervan with blacked-out windows drove past and his hand twitched to the pistol at his belt, just in case assailants jumped out and rushed to attack him. The vehicle cruised by with the loud thrum of anti-grav cyclics and he only let himself relax when it disappeared from sight.

It took William about ten minutes to walk to the leisure and shopping complex, striding past the holographic billboards that lined the upper walkways along the street. Their flickering neon backlights provided a splash of vibrant colour, contrasting sharply with the drab greys of the gloomy morning. Amongst the unending barrage of advertising, punctuated by overly-cheery tunes and upbeat voices, his eyes were drawn to the gorgeous Lead Anchor for TFNN. He wasn’t paying any attention to the advert - TFNN was yammering on about some exclusive interview – instead he gazed at the girl’s long dark hair and flawless dusky skin. She reminded him of another girl, the one who had got him into this predicament in the first place...

Tearing his eyes from Jehanna Elani’s shapely form, he heaved a sigh of relief when he realised he’d arrived at his destination and could get out of the relentless, driving rain. His shirt collar was soaked by the time he walked into the lobby and shook off his over-sized coat, showering a man standing by the entrance in raindrops. The smartly-dressed man glared at him and tutted in irritation, before opening his anti-grav umbrella and venturing outside into the morning downpour.

Ignoring the indignant shopper, William squinted as he glanced around the broad mall suspiciously, searching for anyone or anything that seemed out of place. There were a dozen well-dressed citizens in there at that hour, representing the last remnants of Nobruna’s dwindling middle class, the rest having abandoned the planet when the corporations left.

William had rented one of the more luxurious apartments in Drastin’s Fall and while it meant he lived in the nicer part of the city, it was also quite expensive. He’d made over five million credits selling decommissioned fleet assets to pirates and another two million tipping the slavers off with flight-path data. Unfortunately, six months on the run had quickly eaten into his savings, especially with the way he’d thrown money around on designer gear and call girls.

He had no income to replenish his funds, and there were always bills to pay. Being forced to purchase several new identities on the black market had cost him a hefty chunk, but he’d had no choice, considering the grim alternative. Of course, he’d also blown two million credits in a moment of rage, taking out a contract on the bastard who’d stolen his girl and wrecked his life.

His temper flared just thinking about them both again. It was all so unfair! He’d been a Terran Federation Commander once, one of the most powerful men in Port Heracles and in effective control of that entire sector! There’d been no shortage of desperate young women out near the border with Kirrix space and he’d been able to enjoy all sorts of lewd payments in exchange for expedited transit papers to the Core Worlds. Then that bewitching Latina had been assigned to the base, thoroughly entrancing him with her olive skin and smouldering eyes. The stuck up bitch had rejected his advances time after time, even going so far as to transfer to the corvette “Griffon” when he was sure he’d been wearing her down!

When he’d told Everett Hitch about the Griffon, the Pirate Lord had promised to capture Calara, then hand her over to him. William had it all planned out, and was going to enjoy every minute of wiping that haughty look of disgust off her face ... That was until John Blake had stormed in and fucked everything up! Snarling with anger, he stomped across the reception area, making his way towards the holo-net cafe.

He winced against the bright glare of the advertising boards that surrounded the foyer, then sighed with relief as he entered the dimly-lit cafe. Glancing around the room, a predatory smile appeared on his face when he spotted the young woman running the establishment. Forcing himself to calm down, he scuttled over to the young woman, trying his best to look as disarming as possible.

“Hello Justina!” he said, trying to sound bright and cheerful. This was one of the few times he got to interact with people during his day and he was determined to make the most of it. He’d been trying to convince the attractive brunette to go out on a date with him for weeks, but so far to no avail.

“Same again, Mister Fallow?” the attendant asked him, sounding bored and entirely disinterested.

“Yes, please,” he replied, frowning slightly at her tone. His eyes were drawn to her erect nipples, which were just visible through her bra and white shirt, hardening with the chill of the air conditioning in the cafe. He gave her a lascivious grin and added, “Is it just me, or is it a bit nippy this morning?”

Justina glared at him in annoyance, meeting his lecherous gaze for a second, then turning away with a shudder of revulsion. She pointed towards a booth on the opposite side of the cafe to her desk. “Number twelve is free, you can use that.”

William scowled at her tone. Call girls all liked being spoken to that way, so what was her problem? She was just another stuck-up bitch like Calara had been. His eyes narrowed as he watched Justina walking away, imagining how she’d change her tune when she was gagged and handcuffed to a bed. He’d teach her some respect then and the little whore would love it...

As tempting as thoughts of taking his frustrations out on her nubile body were, he knew he couldn’t afford to take any chances. He had to keep a low profile and stay exiled out in the middle of nowhere until the deed was done. Every morning he was filled with the same faint hope, that Mikaboshi would finally confirm that the contract was complete. However, for over four interminably long months, those hopes lay dashed every time.

He walked over to booth twelve and slouched in the seat, sticking his forged identity card into the slot in the desk. The holo-interface took a few seconds to warm up, flickering a few times as the worn projectors displayed the holographic image. He scrolled through his scant list of contacts, finding Mikaboshi’s pseudonym on the list. There were no replies from “shadowninja26497” and William let out a despondent sigh.

Slumping in the chair he tried to think of some productive way to spend the day. He flicked half-heartedly through the holo-net, checking out the news, but all the channels were full of talk about a failed assassination attempt against the Lionesses. William gritted his teeth in anger. It was galling to see how much everyone fawned over John Blake, throwing undeserved promotions and medals at that bastard like confetti.

As he was simmering at how unfair it all was, he noticed a flashing light on the comm interface, highlighting a message from someone called “Azure_Superuser”. He was fairly sure he’d never spoken to anyone using that name before - it didn’t really sound like the name of any of the hookers he’d contacted. Swiping across the glowing name, he accepted the incoming call.

A message scrolled across the screen, saying, “Connecting, please standby...”

His curiosity piqued, he waited patiently for about ten seconds. Nothing seemed to be happening, so he tried swiping away the message but to no effect. Frowning in irritation, he tried closing the entire comm interface, but that didn’t work either. Just as he’d started to give up and was about to call Justina to ask for some help, a holographic image coalesced above the desk in front of him.

He gaped at the image of the beautiful Latina in shock.

“Rupert Grant,” Calara said, a bleak expression on her face. “I hoped I’d seen the last of you, but we finally meet again. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news...”

Mouth sagging open in disbelief, he stared mutely at the gorgeous brunette, somehow looking even more beautiful than he remembered.

“We just neutralised Mikaboshi and wiped out his legion of assassins. Now that he’s dead, I’m afraid he won’t be able to complete your contract, or reimburse you for failing to assassinate John...” Calara leaned forwards, eyes narrowing dangerously as she continued, “Yes, we know it was you. I’d like to say it came as a shock, but considering your heinous list of crimes, it doesn’t really surprise me in the slightest.”

Rupert felt faint and he glanced around the room with wild eyes, expecting to see soldiers running into the cafe to arrest him. Justina was the only other person in the cafe and she seemed to be transfixed by some TFNN news report on the big screen by her desk. Breathing heavily, he turned back to look at the holographic image of Calara.

“You’ve got the blood of eight more innocent lives on your hands, Rupert,” she said, her tone grim. “Not that I expect you care in the slightest, not after the hundreds you sold out to slavers. Part of me wants to believe you didn’t know they were selling them to the Kirrix, but I expect you did, you just didn’t care...”

Her sanctimonious tone was starting to piss him off, and he glared at her as he hissed, “No, I didn’t give a fuck about any of them!”

Calara looked at him with disgust, that same infuriatingly superior expression he’d seen before. “I was furious when John told me what you’d done. I wanted to hunt you down and personally execute you for treason.” Her face lit up with a smile of satisfaction. “But flying to the outer rim to put a bullet in your head wasn’t worth our time or effort. The local troops on Nobruna are more than capable of dealing with a little cockroach like you...”

Rupert froze when she mentioned the name of the planet he was hiding on. He lurched upright, his chair bouncing backwards with a crash.

“They’re coming for you, Rupert,” Calara said quietly. “There’s no escaping justice this time ... May God have mercy on your twisted black soul.”

The call ended abruptly, Calara’s damning words hanging in the air as her beautiful face faded away.

He staggered away from the desk, eyes wide with horror. Justina was watching some kind of interview, and his eyes got even wider when he saw it was John Blake being interviewed. He wore a suit of white battle armour and stared at the camera as he said grimly, “Rest assured, everyone associated with this nest of killers will be brought to justice...”

Blood was rushing in Rupert’s ears as he staggered from the cafe, jumping in fright as he saw John’s image on every advertising billboard in the lobby. Lurching towards the door to leave the leisure complex, the Lion’s voice echoed behind him, “I want to demonstrate what happens to my enemies...”

It was still raining outside, but Rupert was too frantic to bother fastening his coat. He started running for the starport, desperate to flee the planet. Skidding to a halt a second later, he realised that all his money and his transit documents were back inside the safe at his apartment. Turning around he began to sprint back the way he’d come, his heart pounding in his chest as he gulped for air.

John Blake’s image was everywhere now, the huge advertising billboards showing footage from the interview. “One inevitable outcome...” the man glowered, staring balefully at the camera. That look seemed to be directed at Rupert alone and he quaked with terror.

Rupert felt a stitch in his chest, and he hobbled along, winded as he panted for breath. The pale faces looming out of the rain looked at him with surprise and suspicion as he staggered along the sidewalk, people moving warily out of his way as he lumbered past.

Jehanna Elani was up on the billboards now and she smiled while saying, “ ... swift and ferocious retribution await those that dare to prey on the good citizens of the Federation.”

Seeing his apartment block up ahead, Rupert stumbled up the steps to the foyer entrance.

“Spare a few credits for a meal, chief?” the stim-addict by the door asked plaintively.

“Why don’t you just fuck off!” Rupert snarled, hitting the button to open the door.

The bundle of clothing shrank back as the man mumbled, “ ... just fallen on hard times, Chief. Don’t mean nothin’ by it.”

The hydraulic door swished open, and Rupert rushed inside, eyes darting from side to side as he searched for assailants. The lobby was deserted, so he ran to the lift, hammering at the call button until it arrived. Running inside, he pressed the button for the fourth floor, then leaned against the wall, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to regain his breath.

When the elevator chimed, he rushed into the corridor, making a beeline for his apartment. He fumbled with his maglock keycard, dropping it once with a curse before picking it up in shaking fingers. He managed to shove it into the slot, then sighed with relief as the door opened. Plunging into the darkened room, he called out, “lights!” as he ran inside, peeling off his rain-soaked coat and dropping it by the door.

Suddenly he felt an explosion of pain as someone punched him in his stomach and he doubled over in agony, crashing to the floor. The lights flickered on and his terrified eyes spotted armoured boots in front of him. Looking up, he saw a harsh, hate-filled glare on a Terran trooper’s face. Rupert managed to grab at the pistol on his belt and haul it out, just in time for a second trooper to stomp down on his arm. There was a snap as his radius bone broke and he howled with agony as he dropped the pistol.

The gun was kicked out of his reach, then fists began raining down on him, blows from several men landing all over his body. He writhed on the ground, yelping and crying with every punch, his senses overwhelmed with pain.

“That’s enough, lads,” a calm, quiet voice said. “We don’t want to kill him.”

Rupert rolled over onto his back, groaning in agony. He looked up at the man that had spoken, an older sergeant with a kind face, who was looking at him with a resigned expression. “Thank you!” he gasped through the pain.

The sergeant squatted down and said, “You match the description, but I’d like confirmation. Are you Commander Rupert Grant? We’ll get a DNA test to confirm it, so you might as well save us both the aggravation.”

Knowing that his only chance now was to cooperate, he quickly nodded. “Yes, I’m Commander Rupert Grant.” This far away from the Core Worlds, a man’s loyalty to the Terran Federation wasn’t quite so absolute, so he had one last card to play. “I’ve still got money! Maybe we could all come to some arrangement? I could help you and your men out with a nice retirement fund ... if you let me walk out of here alive! What do you say, Sergeant... ?”

“My name’s Rathburn and that does sound very reasonable,” the Sergeant replied with a smile. He looked up at his men. “How about it lads? Should we consider the Commander’s generous offer?”

“Let’s see what he’s offering...” a cold-eyed trooper said, staring at Rupert with disdain.

The sergeant offered Rupert a hand, and he rose unsteadily to his feet, his entire body throbbing with pain. Hobbling over to the fireplace, he pressed a concealed button under the mantelpiece and a panel slid back, revealing the hidden safe. He started to raise his right hand to open the door, but the pain was too great, so he awkwardly switched to his left. Holding his hand against the DNA reader, it flashed green as it checked his genetic code, the safe door opening with a click.

He pointed to the stack of credsticks inside. “Each one of those is loaded with fifty-thousand credits ... I’ll give you all of it if you let me walk out of here.”

The cold-eyed trooper walked over to the safe and glanced back at Sergeant Rathburn. “We could give them to Abigail?”

The kind-faced sergeant smiled and gestured towards the door. “It looks like you have a deal, Mister Grant. You’re free to leave.”

Rupert looked at the men suspiciously, but they made no threatening moves against him. He gingerly reached into the safe to take his travel permits, then limped out of the room, darting worried glances behind him. Calling for the elevator, he kept a nervous eye on the door, cradling his broken wrist against his chest. He stepped inside, then hit the button for the lobby, his heart pounding in his chest.

The door to the lift opened and he rushed out, making his way for the door. It slid open for him and he stepped outside, sucking in a big lungful of air as he tasted freedom. It had been an incredibly close call, but now he just had to make his way to the starport and he’d be able to lose himself in some other outer-rim hellhole.

He was aware of a sudden click and pressure around his left wrist. Looking to his side with shock, he saw that the cloth-wrapped bundle had slapped a set of cuffs on him. The trooper threw off the bundle of clothes and gave him a stern frown as he said, “Rupert Grant, we’re taking you into custody to face charges of treason.”

“Wait!” Rupert protested. “That’s not right, I made a deal!”

“What seems to be the trouble, Commander?” Sergeant Rathburn asked, walking across the lobby with his men.

“You said I was free to leave!” Rupert exclaimed indignantly.

The sergeant nodded and replied. “Indeed I did, and you have, in fact, left the building.”

An armoured hover-truck in military grey coasted to a halt outside the apartment complex. Rupert Grant was thrown unceremoniously inside, crying out with pain as he landed on the hard metal floor. He backed away from his captors’ unfriendly glares, huddling in a corner as the squad of troopers climbed in the back.

“I want a lawyer!” Rupert blurted out. “I have the right to defend myself against these charges! This brutality isn’t fair!”

Sergeant Rathburn walked over to him, crouching down so he could stare into Rupert’s eyes. “I’m afraid Trooper Evans over there wasn’t being entirely truthful with you, Commander. You aren’t under arrest and you won’t be facing any charges.”

“I’m not?!” Rupert asked, feeling a mixture of confusion and hope.

Rathburn shook his head. “You see, my brother worked as a merchant. He used to swing by this way, bringing Trankaran booze for me and the lads while shipping ore to Port Heracles. You can probably understand how horrified we all were to hear that he’d been captured by slavers ... It was far worse when we found out that he’d been sold off to the Kirrix. So when the garrison received the tip-off from the Lion that a traitor called Rupert Grant was skulking around here, me and the lads were eager to volunteer for the job...”

Rupert’s eyes widened in fear and he held up his good hand defensively. “Wait! I can explain...”

“Two weeks ... that’s how long Kirrix spawn take to hatch, before they eat their way out of you.” Rathburn said quietly, his eyes burning with a dreadful intensity. Suddenly his face twisted with rage and he grabbed Rupert’s index finger and snapped it backwards. “So I’m going to keep you alive in constant agony for two weeks, before I finally put a bullet in your fucking head!”

The armoured truck pulled away with the muffled sound of an agonised shriek echoing from inside the vehicle.

It had stopped raining now and a man standing on the sidewalk outside the building watched the truck leave. Admiring the plush silk lining of the new bulky coat one of the troopers had handed him, the man smoothed back the lapel with shaking fingers. “Everyone falls on hard times, Chief. Looks like it’s your turn now...”

Calara sat back in John’s chair, gazing out the window of his Ready Room. They were currently in low orbit around Proxima Centauri and the huge window offered an impressive view of the planet’s dramatic mountain ranges. Seeing and speaking to Rupert Grant again had dredged up lots of extremely unpleasant memories, ones that she’d barely even thought about in the last six months.

“Are you alright?” Irillith asked, placing a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

Calara nodded, looking up at the Maliri girl with a smile. “Thank you for tracking him down.”

“It was relatively easy once I found his encrypted correspondence with Mikaboshi,” Irillith replied, giving her a nonchalant shrug. “This Grant creature was very foolish to maintain regular contact with anyone if he was attempting to lay low. Cracking the encryption didn’t take me long and then I just had to trace the comm routing back to the planet he was hiding on.”

The door to the Ready Room swished open and Alyssa glided in, giving them both a warm smile. “Hello you two.”

Her eyes met Irillith’s and after a brief telepathic exchange, Irillith squatted down beside Calara. She gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad I was able to help. Come and find me if you ever want to talk about anything.”

“I appreciate that, thank you,” the Latina said gratefully.

Irillith rose then glided out of the room, brushing hands with Alyssa as the two girls passed each other.

Alyssa sidled over to the desk and reached over to interlace her fingers with Calara’s. “You know you’re not going to be able to fob me off so easily, don’t you?”

“My girlfriend being able to read all my thoughts is extremely unfair,” Calara replied with a laugh, letting the blonde pull her up from the chair.

“Can I let you in on a secret?” Alyssa asked, leading her lover over to the sofas. “I only hear what you want to share with me. That means you wanted me to know you’re upset and I’m very glad you did.”

Sitting down, she gestured to the sofa beside her. Calara lay down, resting her head on Alyssa’s lap and looking up at her beautiful face. The Latina relaxed as Alyssa’s fingers brushed through her hair, stroking her comfortingly.

“It just came as a bit of a shock finding out Rupert Grant was the one who set all this in motion,” Calara admitted, gazing into Alyssa’s cerulean eyes. “I’d forgotten about him to be honest, but he ended up causing us so much trouble by hiring Mikaboshi.”

“The assassins are dead now and Grant will be executed for treason soon,” Alyssa replied, picking up Calara’s hand and bringing it to her lips. She kissed it gently as she added, “He hurt you badly, so he’s very lucky you and John decided against personally hunting him down. I would have been quite creative in finding a fitting way to punish him for everything he’d done.”

“I like it when you get all protective, Alpha Lioness,” Calara said with a fond smile, turning her hand to stroke Alyssa’s cheek.

Alyssa gave her a tender smile as she replied, “I’m surprised you don’t feel like you’re being smothered with two overprotective Progenitors watching out for you.”

Sitting up, Calara shook her head as she leaned in to kiss her girlfriend. “I love it,” she purred between kisses.

Pulling back for a second, Alyssa gazed into Calara’s brown eyes and said in a hushed voice, “I’m so sorry I left you exposed at the club like that. If I’d been there, then...”

Silencing her with a kiss, the Latina replied, “There was no way you could’ve known what was about to happen.” She smiled wryly as she added, “Although I think I might give the next clubbing trip a pass. I don’t have much luck when we start doing any celebrating.”

“Maybe we should confine our celebrating to the bedroom?” Alyssa replied with a twinkle in her eyes. “I can guarantee you’ll get lucky.”

Calara laughed at that, nodding her agreement. “When’s John back anyway?”

“He’s just landing now,” Alyssa replied, her eyes going distant as she focused on his thoughts. “Let’s go and meet with the others; they’re all waiting in the lounge.”

The two girls rose from the sofa, then walked out onto the Bridge hand-in-hand.

“That interview was amazing!” Jehanna gushed, leaning against the wall in the Combat Bridge armoury and gazing at John with a brilliant smile on her face. “You should have heard my boss after it aired! Avery almost sounded happy!”

John stepped out of the armour equipping frame, returning her smile as he walked over to her. “Thanks for your help. I wanted to send a message and blasting Mikaboshi’s base seemed like the best way of doing it.”

“I can’t see anyone even thinking about going after the girls again, not after that little display!” Jehanna exclaimed. She grinned at him as she added, “I’m happy for your crew, but I must admit, it’s a relief from a purely selfish point of view too.”

“You’re still interested?” John asked, pulling her towards him and running his hand over her slim stomach. She worked out and he could feel the definition in her abdominal muscles as he caressed her.

Jehanna gave him a coy look as she leaned into his hand. “A chance at immortality, living with the Lion as one of his Lionesses? What girl would turn down an offer like that?”

He gave her a lingering kiss before replying, “I don’t want you to make any hasty decisions. I’m sure all this must be quite overwhelming, so I’m going to give you plenty of time to make sure this is definitely what you want.” Looking thoughtful, he added, “The girls are waiting for us in the Officers’ Lounge. Would you like to meet them?”

“I’d love to,” Jehanna immediately agreed.

Taking her hand, they walked over to the rapid-access grav-tube and were rushed up two levels to the main bedroom. Jehanna gave the bed a lingering look, glancing suggestively at John as she sauntered past it.