College Sex Chronicles Foreign Objects
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Honor MattersChapter 7: Objects In Motion free porn video
The space between stars is dark and cold. Often thought of as empty, objects as large as gas giants or burned-out star cores can be encountered. Lightning Bolt emerged from jump space 15,000 miles from a comet – those "dirty snowballs" that can be 100 miles in diameter. That comet was only 30 miles in diameter and featured pools of liquid hydrogen, fuel for Lightning Bolt. This comet's core was shaped much like an ice cream cone.
Comets have a small constellation of smaller rocks and ice balls surrounding them, just like planetary bodies. Ranging from dust motes to mile-long boulders, these objects orbit their parent rock until something disturbs them. Something like a star ship. I was in a formation with two sensor drones and a third mounted on Marsh Hare. Their sensor scans were transmitted to Lightning Bolt and the better computer resources aboard a Class 400 star ship. Marsh Hare was but a Class 10 lightweight fighter. I pinpointed probable ambush sites, focusing in on a temperature anomaly located in the tail of the comet. Had I set the ambush I would have used a decoy.
It took an hour to travel 12,000 miles from Lightning Bolt. The star ship wasn't simply hovering but was maneuvering to examine parts of the comet directly.
ZZAP! An energy pulse hit and destroyed one of my companion drones. Bad move! I pinpointed the source and fired back, jettisoning the drone, going to full evasive mode. My own beam weapon hit something and hit it hard, causing a catastrophic explosion in the comet's tail. I locked a missile on that spot and launched it, then fired another pulse from my beam weapon before screaming in at full thrust.
I didn't see the missile aimed at Lightning Bolt. I was focused on the enemy and saw no launch flash, just the initial energy pulse and the explosions. Later, I was informed that the missile had been remotely launched.
Within thirty minutes I was in eyeball range of what had been a Class 100 star ship. It took the drones a while to catch up. Marsh Hare had acceleration, had maneuverability. Chameleon camouflage and electronic countermeasures. Enhanced military grade sensors. My neural activity detector pinpointed a survivor in a rescue bubble, a tough fabric sphere three feet in diameter, a poor man's space suit. It took me a few more moments to close in on the survival bubble, snag it with my repair drone, and pull it into my cargo compartment. Then I raced for the Lightning Bolt. Survival bubbles had a maximum duration of only 180 minutes if the owners did all their required upkeep.
The person inside was naked and very hairy. I attached a fresh oxygen bottle to the survival bubble and when close to Lightning Bolt I dispatched the repair drone to deliver the survival bubble to an air lock on the star ship. My next assignment was high guard—orbiting outside the gravity well of a celestial body ready to do battle.
"Marsh Hare, what is this?" I recognized Captain Manchester's voice.
"Information," I replied. "After refueling Lightning Bolt I want to conduct salvage operations. Who tried to ambush us? I plan to find out."
It was then that they told me of the enemy's missile launch. As noted, it had been remoted from the Class 100 star ship and launched from the other side of the comet. EMP warhead, very dangerous. Also not something available on the open market. Consortium EMP warheads were more restricted than fission warheads. A one-kiloton fission warhead was available to authorized purchasers for a mere 50,000 credits, and on the underground economy might bring as much as one hundred times that amount. Electro-Magnetic Pulse weapons were directional and could cripple a large warship with one hit. Tightly controlled, EMP warheads were unavailable except to Consortium operators. Whoever tried to kill Lightning Bolt had Consortium connections. What saved Lightning Bolt was deploying all of her remaining drones between herself and the comet. The EMP warhead detonated nearly 300 miles from the star ship, almost a safe distance, and the directional warhead was pointed the wrong way. That drone and two others were fried beyond repair.
There's always one unseen enemy. That's a security professional's axiom. Paranoia? Yes. Orbiting in high guard for the two hours Lightning Bolt traveled to the comet's surface and for the four hours required to suck up enough hydrogen fuel left me with free time. I monitored the sensors, and kept getting racy video clips from Lightning Bolt. The women sent nude images of themselves, video clips of sex between the women. There were even clips of me making wild monkey sex with them. Some worlds would ban those images as pornographic filth. Other worlds would regard them as sacred sacraments. I half-watched the promised warm embraces of Lightning Bolt's crew while looking for trouble. For some reason I couldn't relax.
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