Martian Balance
Copyright© 2025 by rlfj
Chapter 5: Operation Fast Fuck
Kansas Freight Shuttle Port Enclave
Kansas City, WestHem
Monday, March 16, 2235
The average WestHem citizen hated the fact that they had to get their food from a planet that they once owned, and peopled by vermin, their former slave class. Following the ceasefire after the destruction of WestHem’s fleet and Marines, WestHem had agreed to terms like what EastHem had agreed to during the first Revolutionary War. WestHem agreed to end the war against Mars in return for half of Mars’ surplus food. Approximately a hundred Martians moved to Earth to coordinate food shipments with AgriCorp and the WestHem government.
As soon as the local citizens in Kansas City discovered their hated enemy was living among them, problems began. The local environment was one of intense xenophobia and hatred. Homes were burned, adults were harassed, and children were bullied. It didn’t help that many of the Martian coordinators were either women or non-Caucasian, demographics considered lower-class. WestHem citizens wouldn’t take requests from them, let alone orders. When Kansas Municipal Police were assigned as protection they refused the security detail, since they didn’t want the Greenies around either. It became necessary to build a compound on the shuttle port grounds where the locals couldn’t get to them. The shuttle port was federal property and the FLEB ran security.
If the locals realized that the Martians who provided their food enjoyed sexual congress outside of marriage, they’d go absolutely fucking nuts! At the best of times WestHem was a prudish, Christian mess. Currently, it added misogyny and paranoia to the mix. To members of a society that considered itself free, enlightened, and far more advanced than their neighbors, Earth was a hardship posting. The number of Martian coordinators was cut to fifty, and a Martian Expeditionary Force platoon was brought in for protection. The MEF wore civvies but had a full set of equipment in storage. The AgriCorp coordinators’ compound was on the north side of the shuttle port and was surrounded by barbed wire and a wide-open area. They had a large, converted hangar that they used as a warehouse and a large number of storage trailers converted to housing.
With barely a hundred Martians in WestHem, all located in the Kansas Freight Shuttle Port Enclave, the Martians had limited choices for personal entertainment. A couple of MEF sergeants ran Club Kansas, a bar, using Martian whiskey and beer ‘liberated’ from various food shipments sent from home; since they had control of the manifests and shipping documents it was child’s play to redirect the occasional freight shipment. The same was true with high quality Martian Greenbud, the finest marijuana grown in Mars’ equatorial greenhouses.
What the Martians really missed, however, were the botch clubs common on Mars. ‘Botch’ derived from the English word ‘debauchery, and botch clubs were sex clubs. They were ostensibly dance clubs with alcohol and greenbud, but the dancing involved sex. A hundred people was simply not a sufficient number of people to support a sex club. Instead, Martian residents made do with swinging and swapping partners among the AgriCorp coordinators and MEF troopers and their families. The MPI reported that they were far better off fucking each other than trying to make friends with WestHem citizens. MPI agents reported WestHem citizens were abysmally untalented at anything sexual.
Joanna Greenbud was laying on her stomach while her lover was moving behind her. Joachim Gonzalvo was on top of her and vigorously plowing her, enjoying himself immensely. Joanna sighed contentedly as she felt her third orgasm building rapidly. She looked across the room to find Maria Gonzalvo licking Joanna’s husband’s cock; they had just finished an excellent fuck, and she was getting Harry Greenbud ready for another round.
The Greenbuds’ and Gonzalvos’ pleasure was interrupted by an alarm coming from every communication device and computer in the compound. The alarm was loud, obnoxious, and modeled on the Martian Navy’s General Quarters alarm. Joachim was so startled he pulled out mid-ejaculation and sprayed Joanna with his cum. Maria looked around from where her face was in Harry’s lap. “What the fuck?” she asked. The others echoed her.
The alarm continued as the foursome climbed off the bed they were occupying. They were getting dressed when somebody began pounding on the access door. Joachim opened the door to find an MEF soldier standing there. “Joachim, we’ve got a damn emergency alert from Triad.”
Lieutenant Gonzalvo pulled on his pants and replied, “Any specifics?”
“Just an all-hands alert and that both you and the chief coordinator need to respond.”
Joachim turned to Joanna and asked, “You catch that?”
Joanna nodded. “Let’s get dressed and get to the command office. Something big must be going on.” At least everybody was in the compound. They wouldn’t have to go far to reach everybody.
Ninety seconds later all four of them were in the command center, a corner of the hangar. The first lines of the emergency alert were sobering: “Consider this communication a War Warning. As soon as possible begin Operation Egress. Respond when ready to commence. Do not commence until ordered by Commodore, Task Force Luna.”
“What the fuck?” was repeated throughout the command center.
Everybody stared at each other until Joachim looked at Joanna. “Your orders?” She was the head of the AgriCorp Coordinating office.
She took a deep breath and nodded. “Is everybody here? Anybody out of the compound?”
“Everybody’s here.”
She turned back to the communications officer, an MEF sergeant. “Send the signal. Ready to commence immediately.”
“Fuckin’ A!” said the sergeant, his fingers flying over the keyboard. Then he turned back to her and added, “We’re at almost maximum distance from Mars. It’s going to take at least forty-five minutes to get a fucking response from Mars, maybe more. Everybody should clean up and pack their bug-out bag.”
Harry took his wife’s hand. “He’s right. Whatever is happening, we have time to get ready. The automated systems can handle comms to AgriCorp for a bit.” They had been married thirty years and had a combined fifty years’ experience moving food and freight.
Joanna nodded but turned to the MEF lieutenant. “Is the ship ready?”
“It’s ready. We get the word from Mars, and we’re gone ten minutes later.”
Joanna turned back to her husband. “You’re right. I don’t know what the fuck’s going on, but whatever’s happening is serious. Let’s get cleaned up and come back here.” To the others, she added, “That’s for everybody.”
Well before the forty-five-minute time limit, the Greenbuds were back in the command center, each of them carrying a small duffel bag. The room was beginning to fill with others as well, enough that the MEF ordered most of them into the conference room next to the command center. One of the things the Greenbuds noticed was that while everybody was dressed, the MEF was in full combat gear. They were taking the war warning very seriously.
The response from Mars came fifty-seven minutes after their initial comm to Mars. They were to wait until they received a launch order from MSS Hypnotits and then proceed as ordered. Lieutenant Gonzalvo, who had also cleaned up after his and his wife’s after-dinner fun and games with the Greenbuds, told one of his sergeants to organize coffee and snacks in the conference room. Nobody knew when the word would come from the Raptor hiding in Earth orbit.
There weren’t many children in the compound, but there were a few. One of the little girls came up to an MEF sergeant and asked, “What about Dorie and the Doritos? Can we bring them?”
Sergeant Wilson smiled and held out his hand. “Let’s ask the boss.” They walked to the command center. “Ell-Tee, we have a critical question!”
Gonzalvo returned a curious look. “Oh?”
Sally Obijibwa repeated her question. “What about Dorie and the Doritos? Can we bring them?”
The lieutenant smiled. “We’re sure going to try.”
Sally smiled and headed back to the conference room. It was where Dorie and the Doritos were living.
The layout of the Martian AgriCorp compound was relatively open, north of the main runway and surrounded by a large open field and razor wire. Three months ago a female, orange-striped tabby cat wandered through the wire. She was a bit scrawny and very hungry, and the children in the compound adopted her. Eventually one of the parents noticed their child taking scraps out of the container/home they were living in and figured out what was going on. She also determined that the cat, now named Dorie, was pregnant. Two months later Dorie delivered six gray and orange tabby kittens, nicknamed the Doritos. Dorie was still nursing her kittens, which had all been preemptively adopted by various children and their families. In the meantime they had cobbled together a large cardboard box lined with old blankets and were feeding them cat food liberated from one of the food shipments.
Cats were popular pets on Mars, being well adapted to city life and apartment living. Since the Revolution and the massive improvement in living standards on Mars, pets were common. Cats were the most popular pet, followed by dogs, but after that there was a wide selection of genetically modified animals. Very popular were exotics such as miniature elephants and giraffes, tame bears the size of a mastiff, and domesticated lions and tigers half the size of their wild varieties.
The next message the command center received was from MSS Hypnotits and said: “Launch 2317 local Kansas time. Destination EastHem LunaSat 3 Dock 29. Transfer to MSS Trailer Trash for return to Mars. Confirm ASAP.”
Greenbud looked at Gonzalvo and the rest of her department heads for just a moment, but then said, “Send the confirmation signal and start getting people fucking loaded. We won’t have very long until launch.”
Bridge
MSS Hypnotits, Earth Orbit
Monday, March 16, 2235
One of the things learned by Earth navies and militaries during the 20th Century was that navies and air forces were different than armies. Without a war to keep them trained and ready to fight, armies tended to get soft and sloppy. It took somebody taking the occasional potshot for them to remember what they were supposed to do. Navies and air forces were different. The necessity to actually move the ships and planes around kept them at a minimum level of proficiency, otherwise ships would sink and planes would crash. It was no different in the 23rd Century with interplanetary spaceships. Likewise, an expeditionary force like the MEF got a lot more practice than the MPG. When the orders from Task Force Luna came in, they were quickly acted upon.
Lieutenant Sophia Andrews said, “We got the confirmation signal, Skipper.”
Commander Bozo Armpit was the commanding officer of Hypnotits, a Raptor-class stealth ship in orbit around Earth. She and her companion ship, Cockblocker, performed surveillance duties as well as maintaining an immediate death sentence on anybody on Earth Triad wanted to kill. Armpit looked over at his Communications Officer. “Current local time for Kansas?”
“2226. They will be launching in fifty-one minutes.” She put a timer on the main screen.
“Let Cockblocker know.”
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.