Of Dancers and Doves
Chapter 4: Rookie Trooper

Copyright© 2016 by Lord Van Leak

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 4: Rookie Trooper - Mack Wolf works as a manager for Treasured Petals, a strip-club owned by the Shroud Mafia. His life is turned upside down when a new player comes into town and he is left with no option but to leave the life he has come to love. Forced to reforge his life, he must navigate through the dangers of living in the corrupt and dangerous city with a vindictive powerful woman trying to make him her slave and slowly heal the scars from his past that he hid from by overworking himself.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   NonConsensual   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Fiction   Science Fiction   Space   Aliens   BDSM   Light Bond   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Petting   Exhibitionism   Body Modification   Violence   Prostitution  

 Mack awoke before Tiff and slipped out of the lumpy bed, trying to be quiet and gentle as not to wake her. She had curled up into a ball under the covers after he’d gotten up. He sat in the chair beside the bed, still naked, watching her beautiful face. They’d had fantastic sex, but now that he had a chance to take a step back and think about what happened, he felt conflicted. The young woman on his bed was younger than him, by no more than three years, but he couldn’t help feeling like she was his younger sister and the fact they had sex was making him feel a little dirty. He knew his feelings were irrational, because he was attracted to Tiff physically and emotionally, and he was aware that some of it stemmed from losing his fiancee but the more he thought about the situation he realized he just felt lost. Shaking his head, he rose and cleaned up in the bathroom.

 Once he was done washing up, he went to the kitchenette and started to make a late lunch. The smell of cooking food roused his visitor, and Tiff sat up looking around. “Hey there sexy, wha’cha making?” she asked as she stretched and yawned. A moment later she winced and put her hand on her ass.

 ”Just a light lunch,” he smiled and searched her wincing face. “Do you, uh, need anything?” he questioned, looking towards her covered bottom.

 ”No, no, I might have overdone it slightly is all,” she answered with a smile and stuck her tongue out at him. “It was completely worth it,” she said and got quiet for a moment before continuing, “are we okay?”

 Keeping the smile on his face, he nodded and opened his arm for a hug, the other on the handle of the pan on the stove. She didn’t miss a beat and jumped from the bed, crossing the intervening space in a second to wrap her arms around his middle. “I won’t lie, I’m a little shook up, but we’ll always be okay Tiff.”

 He felt her head nod against his chest. “Sang warned me you might not be ready for everything yet, but I’m not looking for a boyfriend or a ring,” she muttered into his chest. He barely heard her statement and wasn’t sure she believed what she was saying from the hesitancy in her voice.

 ”How much did Sang tell you?” he asked, not sure he wanted to know as he flipped the omelet in the pan.

 She stopped hugging him and moved back a step, looking him in the eye before replying. “She told me you had a fiancee that had been killed in an accident. That you weren’t to blame but you blamed yourself for her death and probably still do.”

 Frowning, he glanced between Tiff and the food trying to figure out what to say. After a few minutes of silence, while he thought things over, he answered in a quiet voice. “That’s partially right. She was taken from me in an accident, and I was partially at fault for it. She,” he stopped, a lump forming in his throat, “she and I got into a fight over something stupid. I don’t even remember what it was over, but she left our little apartment angry. I’d proposed three days before.” His eyes blurred and he realized tears had formed in his eyes.

 ”You don’t have to,” Tiff started, but he waved his hand to silence her. She bit her lip, her eyes locked on his.

 ”She left the apartment to get some wine, “to deal with my shit,” she said. She never made it to the store. A group of Neo-Messiah religious idiots had just killed a clone because their god told them to do it,” he spat out before reigning in his anger and continued. “They were running from the Military Police and had cut off a family of four coming home from visiting their relatives. She was hit,” his voice broke, and tears rolled down his face as he remembered hearing the blood-curdling scream from the open apartment window. When he’d looked out the window, he watched, horrified, as the love of his life was ripped in two from the impact.

 The smell of burning food brought him out of his dark memories, and he realized Tiff had her arms wrapped around him. Taking the burnt omelet off the stove, he patted her back with one hand because she was crying into his chest. He felt self-conscious and awkward for crying in front of her. “I didn’t know,” she muttered after looking up at him, tears running down her face.

 Breathing out, he gave her a weak smile. “It’s hard sometimes,” he said in a quiet voice and shook his head to clear it. “Let me make you something a little less charred, and we can talk about something happier.”

 She just nodded at him and reluctantly released him from her hug. Smiling, she kissed him on the cheek and darted into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Biting his lip, Mack tried not to laugh as evidence of their adventurous lovemaking was evident on her shapely ass when he watched her go in the bathroom. Breathing out, he scolded himself for losing his composure around her and focused on making a new omelet for her, as he’d eat the charred remains of the first one.

 He was done cooking before she came out, so he nibbled on the safest part of his omelet and played with his tablet. Tiff opened the door with a guilty look on her face. “Sorry I took so long,” she muttered as she slipped into the only chair in the room, as he was sitting on the bed.

 ”You alright?” he asked, peering closely at her face. She’d been crying, that much was obvious, but he hoped it was caused by his sad tale rather than any physical pain.

 ”I just didn’t know,” she explained and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I didn’t mean,” she started but stopped when Mack flashed her a warm smile.

 ”Almost no one knows the story. I’m a very private person and don’t let many into my life except at arm’s length. I’ve always been like that, even before my fiancee, Jane. It’s probably gotten worse since she,” he cut off and breathed out before continuing, “since she died.”

 ”Is that why you’re so protective of us?” Tiff asked in a whisper, watching his face.

 He couldn’t help but wince and nodded at her observation. “Probably,” was all he could offer her. He’d wondered the same thing but at the same time, he’d always been protective of women around him.

 They sat in silence for a few minutes, while Tiff ate her omelet with gusto and smiled at him when she was done. “Wow, you can really cook!” she exclaimed.

 ”It’s good to know Chef Ty’s instruction hasn’t fallen on deaf ears,” he muttered with a wry smile. She had the grace to blush and laugh.

 ”I forgot you worked in the kitchen any time you had a free moment,” she muttered and bit her lip. “Do you miss it?”

 He knew she wasn’t talking about cooking and sighed. “Yeah, I miss working the club. It’s been my life for years and was my outlet for my grief. Almost all of my friends work or worked there, and now it’s gone because of a spoiled bitch,” he cursed and realized how bitter he sounded. “Sorry, it’s been a little rough,” he apologized and laid back on the lumpy bed.

 ”Sorry I brought it up,” she muttered and slid off her chair to sit on the bed beside him. “Should I go?” she asked.

 ”No, sorry, I’ll get my act together in a second.”

 He sat up and shook his head to get his head back on straight; he knew he was better than the mopey mess he’d been the last hour. Leaning over, he kissed her on the lips and smiled when she leaned into him, kissing him back. When they broke apart, he rubbed her back to comfort her before leaning into the wall in companionable silence.

 ”I think your apartment manager recognized me,” Tiff said and bumped her shoulder into his.

 He started to laugh, and once he started, he couldn’t stop. She hit him in the stomach lightly and when he didn’t stop laughing she punched him again a little harder. “Sorry,” he wheezed through his laughs. “Oh, he recognized you alright.”

 Blushing, she bit her lip and shook her head. “It can be slightly awkward sometimes when someone spots me on the street and asks me if I’m Starlight, especially when I’m with the kids.”

 Nodding, he rubbed her back and tried to imagine how it must be for the dancers and doves when in public. “I don’t envy you at all, but you leave quite the impression on everyone you meet,” he said with a broad smile.

 She grinned back and leaned in to kiss him again. “I really should get back to my kids. Tina has been amazing since moving in with us. I know you haven’t kept up with everyone, but after that night she took me home and well, fell in love with the kids. She can’t have kids of her own,” she said and bit her lip. “I probably shouldn’t have said that so please don’t mention it to anyone.”

 He smiled and kissed the younger woman’s forehead. “Don’t worry; I won’t tell her or anyone else. I’m glad for you that you have her and she’s got you for support too.”

 Tiff blushed deep red and shook her head. “Am I that obvious?” she asked with a huff.

 ”No, but you just confirmed it. I know you don’t want a husband or boyfriend, but the way you said ‘raising the kids alone’ before didn’t sound quite truthful to me. When you talked about Tina just now your voice got higher, a sign of affection,” he answered and hugged her, to show his support.

 ”Drat,” she cursed and hugged back. “I, I have mixed feelings, and it’s hard not to love Tina. I can’t marry another man, it would tear me up inside, and I’d compare him to my husband, but another woman,” her voice trailed off, and a blush crept back into her cheeks.

 ”Follow what your heart says,” he said, speaking honestly, and smiled back when she smiled at him. “Now, let’s get you dressed, a shame as that is,” he joked and was poked in the ribs to the accompaniment of her laughter.

 ”Can you do me a favor? Please, if anyone asks, tell them nothing happened today, and I’m not ready for a relationship,” he asked looking Tiff in the eyes.

 She nodded a little nod and flashed a dazzling smile, white teeth flashing. “I won’t tell anyone, Mack. Tina might know the moment she sees me trying to sit down, but I promise I won’t say anything if she, or anyone else, asks.”

 Breathing out, he smiled back. “Thank you. I enjoyed what we did, more than I should have, but I realized I’m not ready for a woman in my life yet.”

 Giggling, she poked his ribs and winked. “Enjoyed it too much, huh? Someone like my little tush?”

 He felt his cheeks turn a little red and was surprised he could still blush. “It was, uh, well amazing,” he admitted after a moment, which caused her to grin wider.

 ”I’ll keep that in mind,” she teased and got up, shaking her ass at him, before finding her discarded clothes.

 Mack watched in silence as she dressed. He still felt a little like she was a younger sister but since their talk and his breakdown he realized his feelings had shifted more towards a friend, like Sang was, rather than a relative. She was dressed and out the door, after getting many promises to keep in touch before he could clean up from their small lunch. After she’d left, he called Sang to “thank her” for getting the word out to the girls. As he’d expected his sarcasm was completely ignored and she pointedly told him to “get over himself” and “he wasn’t getting any younger.”

 He spent most of the rest of the day doing laundry, as his sheets were a mess, and looking for another job. The job search was effortless as he’d done most of the hard work before he was hired on at Gregor’s restaurant, so all he had to do was update his information and begin searching. A couple of hits came back before he could finish looking through the list, a construction worker’s position, and a dishwasher. He looked up the information on both jobs. The dishwasher was a bust as the owner required the applicant to be around primos education age or was just getting out of the military. The construction job looked promising because all they needed was a day laborer for about six hours, but the pay was lower than he’d expected.

 He spent two days looking over his options and managed to find a job with a rival construction company, from the first one he’d seen, that paid a little higher. The application process was easy as all he had to do was show up, prove he could lift his body weight without hurting himself, and not have a criminal record. He was honest with the foreman, Rain, about why he was fired from Gregor’s. She shook her head and told him not to bring trouble for her, or he’d be gone too. Since he had no control over what Sibilla would do, he just accepted what would come, and there was little he could do about it.

 The month and a half he worked for Rain had been enlightening and laborious. Eventually, Sibilla had found out where he worked and had begun pressuring his boss to fire him. When Rain hadn’t dismissed him the next day, one of her transport trucks suddenly had mechanical problems. The next day she received a call from an anonymous caller telling her the difficulties would continue to happen every day Mack worked; he was fired that afternoon.

 Sitting on the roof of his car. he watched the sunset and reflected on Sibilla’s actions. She’d obviously kept tabs on him and knew where he lived because he’d had more and more of her supporters at the strip-club and brothel visit him. He made sure to remain polite, even when they weren’t, but firm in his decision to not work for Sibilla. The undertone of being her slave was still there from the visitors’ comments, and he wanted no part of that. His communicator rang, and he looked at the screen frowning, an unknown caller, and hit “accept” after a moment’s thought.

 ”Mack,” was all he said and waited, hearing the sound of loud music filtering through the speaker.

 ”I wondered if you’d take my call,” Sibilla’s smooth voice yelled over the music.

 ”I wondered when you’d leave me alone,” he said before he could help it and wished he’d just hung up.

 ”I told you when we first met; you are mine. I’ve been told I picked the wrong approach to get you, but that’s in the past, and I won’t apologize when I don’t mean it. You WILL come to me, and you WILL make my strip-club and brothel rain credits again. The girls work against me, and I will not tolerate that, most of them are gone or sold off,” she stated with a dismissive snort.

 His blood boiled and kept his eyes fixed on the setting sun. The more the woman talked, the more he hated her and everything she represented. He realized she was still droning on about owning him, so he let her talk, allowing the program on his communicator to continue recording the conversation. When he first began to work for Daciano, he’d been given his marching orders over the phone so fast that he couldn’t keep up. The middle-aged man spoke in such a thick accent that he had to listen hard just to understand the simplest sentences. He’d started recording the conversations on his tablet with a program just to comprehend his orders. Over the years working for Shroud, he’d found it useful to listen to conversations again, to catch things he might have missed the first time.

 ”Are you even listening to me?!” Sibilla’s indignant voice screeched.

 Fighting a grin, he remained silent. Sibilla cursed him in at least a dozen languages, something he would listen to again so he could look them up and learn them, and promised she was going to tighten the leash she had on his life. Not liking that at all, he was about to respond with an angry retort when the call dropped.

 ”That went well,” he muttered aloud and realized the sun had dropped behind the old Fabula Palliata Hotel. He’d found himself more often than not sitting on the roof of his car watching the building after work. The job site he’d been working on had been two blocks down the road, and all he had to do was look up from his job to see the top of the old building.

 ”You seem to have made that woman very angry,” a female commented from behind him.

 Without turning around, he shook his head and blew out his breath. “Marcie, how are you today?” It had become a ritual that she would come out of her father’s store, pepper him with questions, and ask when he was ready to fix up the old place before stomping off when she was done with their one-sided conversation.

 ”Just fine,” she muttered from behind him. “You lost your job then?”

 ”Yeah, ol’Sibbie seems to think she’s going to own me and has been sabotaging my boss’s lives, or paying them off, to get me fired.”

 ”I heard some of that conversation, was kind of hard not to, but you could take it to the Military Police, I’m sure they could keep her in check or at least investigate,” she said. He thought she could hear disapproval in her voice at his inaction.

 ”She’s Shroud, Marcie. She would have to kill a foreign dignitary for the MPs to even notice her unless someone paid them a ridiculous sum to go against Don Savino,” he replied and turned around to look at the young woman. Marcie’s customarily tangled brown hair was combed out some, and he could only see a few splotches of grime on the cheeks of her face.

 ”So, when are you going to clean up my old building?” she asked in a much quieter voice. Her eyes darted around him, and her hands seemed to fidget on their own.

 He saw the signs of an insecure woman trying to get his attention and stifled a groan. “It is going to cost too much money, too much time, and I have no way of supporting myself if I funnel what I do have into restoring this place. You know I’m like ten years older than you, right?” he asked before he thought about it and realized he’d hurt her feeling rather than trying to save them. He’d always been terrible with women and know what to say and when.

 Marcie looked up, blue eyes flashing. “I’m eighteen, thank you. I can make my own decisions and if I want to clean up a little then I can,” she huffed and glared at him. “I’ll be waiting for when you wake up and realize THIS,” she said pointing to the abandoned building, “is where you belong.” Without another word, she huffed again turned around and stomped off towards he father’s store.

 Shaking his head, he imagined what her mother must have been like if she was already a force of nature at eighteen. Looking back at the building, he couldn’t help but feel she was right. He was drawn to the old building. The drive back to his apartment was done in silence while his mind played over the events of the day. He couldn’t help but smile when his landlord was sitting on his favorite bench. “Evening, Aron,” he called.

 ”You’re home later than normal, everything okay?” the perceptive older man asked.

 He shook his head, sat down, and told his landlord about his day, the good and the bad. It had become another ritual of his, to talk about his day with Aron before retiring to his room, fixing dinner, showering, and heading to bed. The older man would listen when he spoke and would ask pointed questions about one topic or another in the silence that followed. Hours would pass while they talked, sometimes joined by one tenant or another coming or going, but Mack couldn’t help wonder if the older man was living through him and the various other tenants in the building. “Are you okay, Aron? I mean do you need any help with anything?”

 ”I’m just fine but why do you ask?” the older man asked and frowned at him.

 ”It’s just,” he stopped trying put words to his thoughts and feelings. “It’s just you don’t seem to leave. Do you want to go somewhere? See someone? I’ve got some time off now,” Mack asked in a gentle voice, trying not to offend his friend.

 ”I was just a rookie trooper, and I surely shook with fight, checked my equipment and secured my helmet tight. I sat and listened to those ion engines roar and I an’t gunna jump no more,” Aron responded in a quiet voice, reciting an old battle hymn. “My unit was one of the first drop ships to land on Yere Prime during the Markof Rebellion. I had less than three months before I was out of the Republic Marines and I could go home to my wife and daughter. The holomovies was nothing like real life when the planetary defense systems opened up on us,” he paused and blew out a breath, his hands shaking a little. “As we’d cleared the atmosphere one of the smaller guns hit the bottom of the dropship, taking my legs and the three men opposite me before we could even blink.” The older man wrapped a knuckle on his knee and a hollow metal thunk reverberated around the atrium.

 ”Oh, I had no idea,” Mack said quietly and shook his head, he was trained to watch for things like that. Now he thought about it, he’d never seen the landlord move from the spot except when he was in his office, and even then he didn’t move around a lot.

 ”Don’t worry, I’m not offended you didn’t notice. The military gave me new legs, metal legs, that worked for a long time like my old ones, but as I got older, they got harder to repair and more expensive to replace. I didn’t tell you that story because I want sympathy, I’m too old for that. I told you the story to explain that life might take your legs from you but it is up to you to make the best of it. I’d like to go see the Fabula Palliata Hotel and my daughters grave if you have time.”

 ”Not a problem, tell me when you want to go, and I’ll take you,” Mack replied, subdued. The fact he missed something so obvious made him feel like a self-centered fool.

 ”I’ll give you plenty of warning, but I need to save my strength first. It sucks getting old,” the landlord muttered and laughed aloud like he’d made a joke.

 ”I’ll head to bed,” Mack said as he stood and smiled at the older man. “Need anything before I head to bed?”

 ”Now don’t treat me as an invalid, Mack. I may be old and slow, but I’ll still make this a three-legged race to the hospital,” the older man joked, a smile on his face.

 ”Alright, alright,” he answered, smiling back and backed away keeping his hands up in surrender. “Have a nice night, Aron.”

 ”You too son, you too,” came the muttered reply.


 Three days went by before Aron called him to go sightseeing. He’d spent most of his time looking at options for getting off the planet and following his dream to be a chef on one of the cruise liners or trade ships. Every time he’d start to look at the information the more he was reminded how much he was attached to the planet and the people on it, like his mother, Tiff, Sang, Cassie, and the rest of his friends. Since Aron’s daughter’s grave was outside the city, they decided to get up early the next morning and make the drive. On the way back they would stop by the hotel. He had a sneaking suspicion that Aron wanted to actually go in the building, so he packed two torches, with high-powered bulbs, and cleaned his gun.

 The next morning, Aron sat on his bench when Mack stepped out of the lift and waved. “Good morning, Mack. Ready to head out?”

 ”Yep, do you need anything before we go?” Mack asked, looking at the long, metal cane and small bag the older man’s hand.

 
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