Captain’s office of the Starflame while he went about cleaning up. Tucked onto the couch with a light blanket and her eyes drifting shut from the shot he’d given her, she looked adorable.
He watched her for a moment, a smile on his lips. She looked cute and soft, her usual hard-edged demeanor gone as she snuggled into the cushions, ready to sleep. The shot was nothing serious, just a light painkiller for her headache which wouldn’t interfere with the concussion. He’d given it to her after she’d recited the main computer access code. Free of pain and worn out from the emotional distress, she would be asleep in minutes. His expression hardened as he turned back to the door and walked out onto the bridge. Time to sort this crapshoot of a situation out.
The smell hit him first. Blood and death, a perfume that had pervaded his life until he was sure it seeped from his pores. Dickwad and Fucktard still lay where he’d left them, their bodies twisted and grotesque. Normally he didn’t bother with his kills, simply dropped them and moved on. This time was different. Because of what they’d done and planned to do to Milly, he wanted to kill them again, mutilate their corpses in the vain hope that the agony would follow them into death and as a warning to anyone against messing with his woman.
His woman…
Who thought he was some kind of fancy bot and who he’d lied to consistently. He had to find a way to tell her the truth, a way that meant she would still have something to do with him or at the very least not space him before they returned to the station.
Gritting his teeth, he set about cleaning up. There was a maintenance hatch to the right of the main view screen leading to the access tubes that riddled the ship like a rabbit warren. It was how he’d reached the bridge without using the lift.
“Fuck, you should’ve gone on a diet, mate,” he grunted as he manhandled the pilot through the hatch and waited for the dull thud as he hit the walkway beyond. Once they’d dropped out of the jump, the access tubes could be vented to space to get rid of the bodies and their accompanying stink.
Returning for the second body, he dragged it across the bridge, leaving a trail of blood and nastier fluids in its wake. At least this area wasn’t carpeted, so he could simply mop it down and get rid of the evidence. Not that he was bothered, he could simply ignore the smell, but he didn’t want anything left behind to upset Milly when she woke.
As he reached the hatch, a comm unit crackled.
“Welch, Vors…what’s happenin’ up there? We’re like fookin’ sardines down ‘ere. How close are we to the jump end?”
Crap. There were more of them. Johnny dropped the body and patted down the pockets, totally ignoring the guy’s sightless eyes. He’d known others, even cyborgs, who couldn’t stand a dead man’s eyes, but it didn’t bother him. It wasn’t like they could do anything from where they were.
“You’d better not be having too much fun with the woman. Remember, we’re looking for a piece of the action before she gets sent off to one of the farms. And unlike them, we’d kinda like her still to look like a woman, not a bit of bloody meat.”
He yanked the comm unit from the guy’s back pocket, and schooled the rush of anger at yet another threat to Milly. This one, though, was far more insidious. The reference to farms could only mean one thing. Once they were done with her, they were going to sell her to one of the organ processing units. In the main systems they were legit operations, requiring both a death certificate and a medical examination before any payment was made. Signs of a violent death would mean the body was impounded and the seller arrested on suspicion of murder. Out here, there was less paperwork and even fewer ethics. Obvious cause of death or even mere unconsciousness was often ignored before money exchanged hands and the victim was loaded into a stripping unit. It was a brutal
He watched her for a moment, a smile on his lips. She looked cute and soft, her usual hard-edged demeanor gone as she snuggled into the cushions, ready to sleep. The shot was nothing serious, just a light painkiller for her headache which wouldn’t interfere with the concussion. He’d given it to her after she’d recited the main computer access code. Free of pain and worn out from the emotional distress, she would be asleep in minutes. His expression hardened as he turned back to the door and walked out onto the bridge. Time to sort this crapshoot of a situation out.
The smell hit him first. Blood and death, a perfume that had pervaded his life until he was sure it seeped from his pores. Dickwad and Fucktard still lay where he’d left them, their bodies twisted and grotesque. Normally he didn’t bother with his kills, simply dropped them and moved on. This time was different. Because of what they’d done and planned to do to Milly, he wanted to kill them again, mutilate their corpses in the vain hope that the agony would follow them into death and as a warning to anyone against messing with his woman.
His woman…
Who thought he was some kind of fancy bot and who he’d lied to consistently. He had to find a way to tell her the truth, a way that meant she would still have something to do with him or at the very least not space him before they returned to the station.
Gritting his teeth, he set about cleaning up. There was a maintenance hatch to the right of the main view screen leading to the access tubes that riddled the ship like a rabbit warren. It was how he’d reached the bridge without using the lift.
“Fuck, you should’ve gone on a diet, mate,” he grunted as he manhandled the pilot through the hatch and waited for the dull thud as he hit the walkway beyond. Once they’d dropped out of the jump, the access tubes could be vented to space to get rid of the bodies and their accompanying stink.
Returning for the second body, he dragged it across the bridge, leaving a trail of blood and nastier fluids in its wake. At least this area wasn’t carpeted, so he could simply mop it down and get rid of the evidence. Not that he was bothered, he could simply ignore the smell, but he didn’t want anything left behind to upset Milly when she woke.
As he reached the hatch, a comm unit crackled.
“Welch, Vors…what’s happenin’ up there? We’re like fookin’ sardines down ‘ere. How close are we to the jump end?”
Crap. There were more of them. Johnny dropped the body and patted down the pockets, totally ignoring the guy’s sightless eyes. He’d known others, even cyborgs, who couldn’t stand a dead man’s eyes, but it didn’t bother him. It wasn’t like they could do anything from where they were.
“You’d better not be having too much fun with the woman. Remember, we’re looking for a piece of the action before she gets sent off to one of the farms. And unlike them, we’d kinda like her still to look like a woman, not a bit of bloody meat.”
He yanked the comm unit from the guy’s back pocket, and schooled the rush of anger at yet another threat to Milly. This one, though, was far more insidious. The reference to farms could only mean one thing. Once they were done with her, they were going to sell her to one of the organ processing units. In the main systems they were legit operations, requiring both a death certificate and a medical examination before any payment was made. Signs of a violent death would mean the body was impounded and the seller arrested on suspicion of murder. Out here, there was less paperwork and even fewer ethics. Obvious cause of death or even mere unconsciousness was often ignored before money exchanged hands and the victim was loaded into a stripping unit. It was a brutal
Similar Books
