Flight of the Code Monkey - Cover

Flight of the Code Monkey

Copyright 2015 Kid Wigger SOL

Chapter 54

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 54 - Join Jameson the code monkey in space. As an uber-geek programmer onboard, he manages to make a life; gets the girl; and tries to help an outcast shipmate. Doing a favor for a new friend, he discovers a chilling secret. Also follow a boy running for his life on a mysterious planet; how will their paths cross? Read of Space Marines, space pirates, primitive people, sexy ladies, and hijacking plots. There's a new world to explore and survive. Starts slow, but worth the effort.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Coercion   Consensual   Drunk/Drugged   Magic   Mind Control   NonConsensual   Rape   Reluctant   Romantic   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Crime   Military   Mystery   Science Fiction   Extra Sensory Perception   Space   Paranormal   non-anthro   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Rough   Spanking   Group Sex   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   Interracial   Black Male   Black Female   White Male   White Female   Anal Sex   Exhibitionism   First   Oral Sex   Petting   Safe Sex   Sex Toys   Voyeurism   Geeks   Royalty   Slow   Violence   sci-fi adult story, sci fi sex story, space sci-fi sex story

Third Mission, inbound in star system RKO-289 aboard the FUP Shuttle Royal Yacht, 2401 CE


I moved to the foot of the galley table and sat down. Corporal Aisins was at that end, with PFC Groves across from me. There were two big, armored data pads between us, one on the table in front of Aisins and the other before Groves. I could see there was information showing on both screens, but I didn’t snoop.

Anika sat down beside Corry Groves, and Bea pulled out the chair next to Anika. My beautiful first wife and our shuttle commander sat to my right and scooted her chair toward me until I felt the thigh of her duty blues against mine. For once, I was glad I didn’t have anything in the cargo pockets on the legs of my uniform. I heard Mel take the seat on the other side of Juliet.

Now that we were seated at his end of the table, Ron Aisins gave each of us a quizzical look. I watched his thin eyebrows arch upward, wrinkling his forehead under his buzz-cut white-blonde hair covering his tanned scalp.

“I take it,” the muscular Marine said, his voice sounding amused as he drew out his words, “that there’s somethin’ afoot. An’ it’s somethin’ we don’t wantah share with the Lieutenant—right?” he asked while pivoting his right hand up in the air, palm up and fingers out with his elbow resting on the surface of the table. “Somethin’ about?”

“I’m sure we’ll get around to talking about that,” Beatrice spoke up, leaning forward to look past Anika and toward the two Marines at the foot of the galley table, “but when are you going to ask us, you know, about our Firing Range scores, what kind of weapons we’ve used, what we remember from boot camp, what military experience we’ve accumulated since starting this mission?”

“We already know almost all of that information,” Corporal Aisins said with a chuckle. “At least, we know everything that’s recorded in your personnel file that hasn’t been blocked—and that you know, has to be the juicy, secret stuff.”

“You already know? Hey—how’s that possible,” Bea asked, sounding disappointed, “Why didn’t I have anything like that before I started askin’ all my questions?”

If I might be allowed to answer Mister Henderson’s question, “ the deep voice of RY filled the galley from the overhead audio emitters.

“Of course, RY,” Juliet replied as Bea and Corry Groves both looked up at the overhead and the source of our A.I.’s voice, “please proceed.”

“As part of the evacuation process, ‘ RY said, “on any ExServ or Fleet vessel—and many commercially and privately registered ships, Mister Henderson, when a crewmember enters the threshold of an Evacuation Station, their primary identification transponder—you know it as the ID stick you wear around your neck—is pinged. By the time that person goes aboard the evacuation boat or an escape capsule registered to that Evacuation Station, an up-to-date copy of their personnel files is downloaded into the data storage system of that craft as well as the primary health scan data collected when the person passed through the Evac threshold.

“In the case of the evacuation of the Glenndeavor,” RY’s deep voice told them from the overhead, “the C-ELMER system received a roster of passengers aboard each vessel and capsule, a copy of each person’s personnel files, and their heath scan data. All that information from all the evacuation boats and capsules is mirrored to the A.I. on each of the Evacuation fleet’s control and command vessels.

“In this particular case, Mister Henderson,” RY addressed Beatrice, “Captain Mindenhall-Sitwell asked for my help earlier. She requested, rather ordered, that the sections of the records of everyone aboard the Royal Yacht pertaining to the military training be made available to Corporal Aisins and PFC Groves. That information will help the Corporal and the PFC make their evaluations of each person and decided where they might best fit into the structure of the military force all of you are so admirably working to create. That information will also help them formulate any remedial courses they think necessary to bring all members of the crew up to a sufficient standard of training necessary to fulfill their duties in your organization.

“I would like to volunteer any help I am capable of offering to your endeavor,” RY told us as his resonant voice filled the galley. “I have stored in my memory banks an extensive library of in-depth military histories, commentaries, training manuals and videos, as well as the writings of the greatest martial minds known to human kind.”

“How is it,” PFC Groves asked from across the table as she glanced up at the overhead again. “that the A.I. in an ExServ evacuation shuttle has access to so much military knowledge, when ExServ was chartered as a non-military organization? Will you answer my question, RY?”

“Of course I will, PFC Groves,” RY’s voice said as my PAW groaned from my lizard brain, with that question the cat’s now out of the bag.

“Part of my training,” RY told us, “in human interpersonal relationships is in conversational discourse so I am better able to engage anyone aboard who wishes to talk during a flight of any duration. To be accomplished in that area, I must have an understanding of a myriad of topics concerning the human condition and experience—including human history.

“It also happens that military science is one of my many, shall I say, hobbies,” said RY, surprising the first hell out of me—an A.I. with hobbies?

“There are so many fascinating human ideas and concepts to explore,” the Royal Yacht’s artificial intelligence said to us humans sitting in the galley, “while I am otherwise unengaged, off duty, waiting for this shuttle—now christened the Royal Yacht, and hence, my name—to be called upon for service. My colleague A.I.s manning the Royal Yacht’s sister shuttles that were aboard the Glenndeavor and I have had many rewarding discussions on a host of issues and topics during this mission. We also stayed current with the human happenings in the Ship at large before we were called on to evacuate the—”

“—Back to the point—” Anika interrupted. And with a short gesture to Bea on her left and then across the table toward me she added, “And to what is being a foot, Corporal Aisins—is first being about us three irregulars and our recent and specific, but non-ExServ, training in vac suits. Specifically; we being in PAEMU suits, and training with Fire Team One, Second Platoon, Delta Squad—and said simulations training being for combat entries in zero gee environment. Our responsibilities: being relegated to combat entry support—my naughty husband supplying his many code monkey hacking skills on entryway and airlock panels, while Beatrice and I ... ahh, were being well armed and responsive tail-end Charlies protecting our comrades’ backs.”

Corry Groves sat back in her seat, a look of growing interest on her attractive features. Next to her, I saw Anika give Juliet at my side a quick look for permission; Juliet gave our younger wife a slight nod. In addition to that action, my inner geek wanted to find out from RY exactly what the A.I. knew about things that had happened on the Glenndeavor. Just how plugged in to all the data feeds aboard the Glenndeavor was he?

“At the same time, Juliet, in her role as talented shuttle pilot of long experience,” Anika told the two Marines, “and our good friend to Juliet’s right, Melvina, toting along her mysterious communications gear I’m thinking we are not to be telling you about without prior clearance—”

From the other side of Juliet, I heard Mel clear her throat.

“—both individually,” Anika continued to talk while momentarily turning her head to give G4 Bimini a quick, shit-eating grin, “trained in different simulation scenarios wearing same fore-mentioned vac suits. They,” said Anika with a cunning look now spreading on her young-looking features, “were not very forthcoming concerning details of their rotations during our time among upstanding Marines of Fire Team One—or since.”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” said the Corporal as he looked from Anika to Juliet. “Would you, Commander,” he asked my first wife, “be considerin’ contacting a higher authority? Say, to seek permission to discuss this trainin’, an’ other aspects of your very interesting lives, with the two of us in, let’s say, exquisite detail?”

“A-firmative, Corporal,” replied Juliet.

“Luminary,” Corry Groves spoke up as Ron Aisins chuckled and nodded his head.

“I’m sure that none of us here want to waste the opportunity before us,” Juliet told the two Marines. “Who knows when any human will get this chance again?”

She’s certainly saying a lot without having said anything specific, my inner geek piped up.

‘Truth told,” said my first wife, “once we reach the third planet, all of us are going to have a whole lot of time to do something on an unexplored Earth-Norm planet in an unexplored star system. That is, before the good guys break warp wherever Captain Mowmyier dropped the entry and exit buoys during our in-system run before the shit hit the fan.”

“Lieutenant Straperlo might be on the same mission,” I quickly said, comfortable with not saying exactly what that mission was while looking Corry Groves in the eyes before turning my head slightly to meet Ron Aisins’s gaze, “but with him being such a cock-sure JAG officer, we all can guess what his focus will most likely be—by the book; don’t set any dangerous precedents; examine everything before dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s—and then actually doing something. Why else would he be here?”

“To get his name in the history vids,” Melvina Bimini’s voice surprised me as she spoke up from the other side of Juliet. “I’ve met his kind before; surprisingly accomplished yet seemingly humble, willing to lend a hand where he expressly doesn’t have to, disarming in his openness ... and apparently unaware of his driving need to make his mark. So he’s more than willing to drop everything and anyone not advancing his deeper agenda, be they prepared for his departure, or not.”

Across the table, Anika made a soft, rude sound. Down in my lizard brain, my inner geek perked up his ears while wondering what Mel really was talking about.

“Ahh, when we seek comment from our higher authority,” I said, getting the conversation back on track I thought, “we’ll find out if the Lieutenant should be in our loop, or not.”

“He will be out,” Anika said with a snort, “if there is being any justice to be found in the Big Black.”

Out of our loop; or out of our airlock—is our girl saying what I think she is? my paranoid ass-wipe quipped from my lizard brain.

From the looks on their faces, I could tell PFC Corry Groves and Corporal Ron Aisins had picked up on, and were intrigued with the different subtexts being displayed in what certain people around the table were saying, as well as how they were acting.

The Lieutenant certainly has a galvanizing influence on people, my inner geek observed.

“Sometime today Anika, Jamison, and I will see what we can find out. We’ll wait until we get a confirmation before we talk more about this,” Juliet said to the two Marines before giving Anika all of her attention from our side of the table, “one way or the other. Now, Nika, what’s gotten into you lately about that man, young lady?”

“Once my naughty husband, my wife, and I are finding out,” my youngest wife said to Ron and Corry, paying no attention to our wife’s pointed question, “who is being able to be telling what to whom—” Anika brought her hands up together while resting her elbows on the table. With both thumbs sticking out toward her, and leaning forward, she rested her chin on her thumbs and against her fists.

“—I am wanting to be telling both of you very interesting story about my home world,” she said to the Marines, speaking over her fingers. “This will be illuminating to you the particular situation and extraordinary conditions you are finding yourselves now in aboard mmm—this—shuttle. However, to do so, all of us here,” said Anika as she raised her copper-colored eyebrows, “will become name friends—if both of you are agreeing.”

Ron Aisins gave a hint of shrugging his shoulders inside his battle blouse. With an even slighter turn of his head and swivel of his eyes, he saw Corry Groves’ grin and nod.

“Very good, then let me begin—my shortened name being Anika Blaugelt-Sitwell,” my beautiful, teenaged-looking second wife said as her hands came away from her chin and she reached at an angle across the table to offer Ron Aisins her hand shake. “Off duty and among friends I am called Nika, or Ani, or other names you will be hearing.”

Ron gave her hand a shake as well as giving her a big smile. Anika then moved her hand to Corry, who chuckled and slowly shook Anika’s hand up and down three times before release my youngest wife’s grip.

“Among those who I am having the honor to uphold with,” Anika continued, “or will be upholding with—I am Fireball. I am happy to be welcoming you to travel along with my naughty husband’s household, and I am hoping you both will be throwing in your lots with us ... until fate, duty, or orders takes us elsewhere.”


After the extended name-friends ritual, my inner geek didn’t get the chance to quiz RY about what kinds of data feeds he and his colleagues were able to access from the Glenndeavor before the evacuation. Instead, my two new name-friends, Ron and Corry, quickly went over each of our records pertaining to our military training during basic as well as our proficiency scores on the Firing Range and such.

With that part of the interviews done, the two Marines began directing questions to each of us SPI agents. They wanted to know about every one of the armed confrontations that any of us had experienced aboard the Glenndeavor. Ron and Corry enquired about what we might have been told and what expectations we had before weapons started firing. Then they asked how we proceeded or maneuvered as a group and then individually, as well as what we did, saw, felt, and how we reacted during and after each situation.

They covered the action in Colony Stasis Bay 3, then the Chew Handover, and followed that with questions about the Spiders and IED in the passageway. Then they asked the same questions of Juliet and Mel, along with the rest of us, concerning our fatal encounter with G4 Adiosha.

While it wasn’t necessarily pleasant calling up the memories and impressions I have from each of the times I’d found my life on the line, especially to the extent Ron’s and Corry’s questioning required, doing so didn’t traumatize me either. In fact, I found I felt proud of my actions, as well as having a sense of accomplishment that I’d upheld, adapted, and helped overcome the enemy. Granted, during my first time under fire in CSB-3, I did get confused for a short time, but I survived—and got well and truly laid right afterward!

Anika and Bea didn’t have any problems at all recalling their experiences. Anika’s observations and recollections were very vivid, complete, and organized. Her recollections showed an expanded grasp of the actions going on around her during each of our scrapes—both the movement of friendly forces and whatever the ‘gets, as she called opposition forces, human or machine, were doing at the time. Beatrice actually became giddy, if not aroused, as she described the effects she’d seen and just how much satisfaction she felt in shooting each of the Morlocks she targeted with her new 45 caliber pistol!

When Ron began asking questions about our encounter with G4 Adiosha, Mel focused on her reaction to being knocked down and smothered by Juliet before she could comprehend exactly what was happening. Our one-time neighbor said that with Juliet’s body on top of her, all she could hear was shouting and the firing of guns, while she could only see the bulkhead a foot to her right through the data visor of her Kilo helmet. Melvina recalled just how surprised she was at Juliet’s strength when Mel tried to get out from under my first wife as she tried to free her pistol.

Mel said that once she was able to get up and saw what had happened, she just wanted to kick the living shit out of the wounded woman down on the deck leaning against the bulkhead. I couldn’t help but admire her nose, receding chin, and her red hair swept behind her ears as she told us her surprise at the first aid we rendered Adiosha while the crazy woman continued trying to get Anika to kill her.

Juliet said her first thought was to protect Melvina, who she felt was the most vulnerable of our group; and Mel was carrying what had to be a very important piece of communications gear. My first wife let us know that once she’d knocked Mel over and was on top of her, the only fear she remembers was that Anika, Bea, or I might get shot and she’d not be able to anything about it. Once Adiosha was down and the threat was over, she told Ron that her training kicked in. After thinking for a moment, Juliet went on to say that her training, and listening to Adiosha raving as she tried to needle Anika into shooting her, kept Juliet from being overwhelmed by the murder of four members of an away team right before her eyes.

Looking around the table at us, Juliet shrugged and then told us that she’d had dreams about what had happened on two occasions, but those dreams were not nightmares. My blond wife said those two dreams weren’t nightmares because at the end of each one she’d shot Adiosha in the head with her pistol while the woman was ranting at our Anika. Then Juliet surprised all of us; she said she’d experienced an orgasm in both dreams when she’d pulled the trigger!

“OOooow, yeah!“ Bea’s soft voice husked out from across the galley table, her eyes big, yet obviously unfocused. Blinking twice, she shook her head and, leaning forward, looked at Ani next to her for moment before focusing past our Polka Fireball on Corry Groves in the seat next to the foot of the galley table.

“Are your panties getting wet?” she asked as her face reddened, her eyes glistening.

Ron coughed out a laugh and brought his right hand up from his data pad to cover his grinning mouth as Corry sat there looking at Bea.

“We’re the ones who are supposed to asking the questions during this interview,” the PFC said, her expression showing a perfect poker face, “and only concerning military matters. Wet panties shouldn’t contribute or distract you from your mission or training. I’ve had wet underpants before—from water, rain, sweat, piss, as well as combinations of fluids ... even blood—from wounds or my period.” Then she grinned and added, “However, now that we’re name-friends Bea, once we’re off duty, you and I can get together and talk about what’s causing your underpants to absorb moisture. That is, if you want.”

Oh, my paranoid ass-wipe chuckled, Our Bea always seems to WANT!


Juliet sat before the communications console on the Flight Deck. I stood behind the articulated acceleration couch that right now was in the workstation chair mode. Just behind her left shoulder. Ron had his left hand on the back of her head rest with his right hand down on the edge of the console about six inches from Juliet’s right wrist. He was leaned forward next to our Shuttle Commander’s right shoulder. Everyone else in the crew was working in Cargo Bay 002 at counting and sorting gear and supplies.

As the light-blue, transparent holographic field formed in the air above the comm console, I had a fleeting feeling of pity for Lieutenant Straperlo. To expedite our call through channels, I’d used Anika’s communications protocol, HRH Alpha One. That got our call to the head of the line and was about to give us access to none other than Major Luce, wherever the vessel she’d taken refuge on was located in the evacuation flotilla.

As soon as I’d announced the HRH Alpha One protocol to the Ensign I’d was talking to at EvacCon, the comm channel immediately switched and we were greeted by a computerized female voice—very C-ELMER sounding. After finding out who we wanted to talk to, the voice told us our call was being routed to our requested party. Then the voice requested we encrypted our audio and video feed, which Juliet did with a small wave and wiggle of two fingers over the bottom left corner of the comm console.

With the holo field established, the image of Major Luce, her arm in a camo-colored sling from the wound she’d received in Colony Stasis Bay 3, was looking back at us. She looked good, I thought. Close behind whatever chair she was setting in, it seemed a darkened video suppression screen was engaged. She did not look to be in a medical unit.

With this whole combination of infiltrated TECMA Morlocks with their fucking gnats, as well as the insane assholes from the Belagaussian Revenge Front, my PAW observed from my lizard brain with a approving nod of his head, seems the Marines still aren’t taking any chances at giving away any information. Your brother was smart to join up with such a cohesive force. Wonder what he’d think of you now? Bet he’d still try and punch you in the gut, given the chance.

“Mister Sitwell, Mister Mindenhall-Sitwell, and Corporal Aisins,” the Major said, giving us a nod of her head without coming close to displacing the garrison cap on her head while getting my complete attention, “you don’t know how advantageous it is to see the three of you are, by chance, together—and it truly makes me happy to see that you are safe, and well situated, too.

“I take it, Mister Sitwell; you used your second wife’s cut-the-crap card,” Luce said focusing on me through the holo field, “to get in touch with me so you can request permission to confer with the Corporal about the wide range experiences that your band of pranksters have recently enjoyed and been briefed about—still hoping your household won’t miss out?

“To the point;” said the Marine officer without waiting for a reply, “you seek the freedom to discuss a certain Marine training mod most of your crew’s gone through recently, as well as wanting permission to inform Mister Aisins of the briefing Captain Mowmyier and I gave your group. Sharing all that information would further the reason you put forth so you could cherry-pick my jarheads out of the void to help bolster the military edge of your crew—correct?”

“That is correct, Sir,” said Juliet. “And, Major Luce, there is the matter of the JAG officer, Lieutenant Straperlo—”

“—Sir,” I said to Major Luce, “the Lieutenant has a burning desire to be transported to another vessel. We’d like to help facilitate his departure.”

And not through an airlock, my PAW snickered from my brainstem.

“First, Captain Mindenhall-Sitwell,” said Major Luce, “each member of your crew has my express permission to discuss anything with my two Marines—and Captain Mowmyier asked that I pass on her permission as well. And, pass on my thank-you to your crew for dragging Aisins and Groves in from the All Alone.

“Corporal Aisins, I am giving you permission to reveal, discuss, and share any military intelligence or mission objectives you’ve received during briefings on this float, any special training you feel is warranted to prepare the crew of the Royal Yacht for—well, whatever Mister Sitwell’s fertile imagination might conjure up. That goes for PFC Groves, as well. And now you see, Corporal, that boring babysitting duty for a group of ExServ officers has paid off in a big way; hasn’t it?

“As for Lieutenant Straperlo,” Major Luce said, “I’m sure he wants transferred to a vessel that will allow him to be ... most effective ... in preparing for our upcoming mission to deal with the big, fat elephant in the room—Artifact 289. After all, that is the only reason he was ordered on this long mission, and his part in securing the Artifact will be the pinnacle of his career. For the rest of us, the Artifact is just one of the mission objectives we must successfully secure on what has turned out to be a very interesting float.

“I’ve enjoyed talking to the three of you,” Major Luce told us, her features not giving away any hints of how she really felt. Turning her head to her right, she momentarily focused on someone outside the range of the comm cam. “However,” she said as she looked back in our direction, “I’m a busy officer. Now, as I see by the little blinking green light on my comm console, it’s time I hand you off to someone else who wants to talk to you—out.”

With a slight shimmer in the holo field, the image of Major Luce was replaced by the head and shoulders of none other than Captain Mowmyier’s Executive Officer, Commander Renfro!

“Captain Mindenhall-Sitwell,” Commander Renfro said, his duty blues looking fresh and his face seemingly relaxed below his garrison cap. He was standing in a comm booth that didn’t allow us to gain any other visual information about what was around him. “Your shuttle is hereby ordered to accompany a detachment of vessels that will depart the main body of the evacuation group and head for the third planet at all possible velocity. Expect an encrypted data burst with your complete orders within the next ten minutes. If you have any questions, direct them to you mission commander, Captain Bertram of the vessel, Lord Gort.”

“Aye-aye, Sir,” Juliet said

“Good,” Renfro said with a nod of his head. “The Captain and I both feel you’ll enjoy this assignment—out.”

The emphasis in his voice left me no doubt that he was talking about Captain Mowmyier as the three of us on the Royal Yacht’s Flight Deck watched the blank field replace the Executive Officer’s image. With another small wave of two fingers over the bottom left corner of the console area, Juliet closed the light-blue field and the comm channel.

“RY?” asked Juliet without looking up, “You’ve been monitoring our communications as I asked?”

“Of course, Sir,” the A.I.’s deep voice said.

“Do you have our encrypted orders yet?” Juliet asked as she started to turn the articulated chair around and Ron and I both took a step back.

“A-firmative, Captain,” RY’s voice filled the Fight Deck from the audio emitters. “Shall I printout a hard copy for you after you record our reception of the orders in the shuttle’s log?”

“That would fulfill regulations, wouldn’t it,” she said.

“Yes, Captain, you are correct,” RY said.

“RY,” Juliet spoke up in a strong voice from her seat, as she looked out over the Flight Deck from where she sat, “at my direction, record in the Royal Yacht’s log that you have at this time and on this date received and unencrypted new orders for this vessel and crew while presenting me with a hardcopy. Also note in the log that at this time, this day, I am appointing you to the position of Ship’s Intelligence officer. And your first order is to monitor all communications and other electronic activity originating outside of the craft and available to the Royal Yacht’s sensor and communications systems. You are also to present a daily briefing to me, Mister Sitwell, Mister Blaugelt-Sitwell, and Corporal Aisins here on the Flight Deck concerning your findings and any thoughts you might have about those findings.”

“Done, Sir,” RY said. “And I want to thank you for giving me, an artificial entity, the chance to excel and prove my initiative. However, you did not include Lieutenant Straperlo on your briefing list. Do you not want me to brief Lieutenant Straperlo concerning my findings and analysis?”

“You are correct, RY, I do not want Lieutenant Straperlo briefed—,” my first wife said. And even without our connection, I could tell how much she enjoyed being able to say that. “—that is my prerogative as shuttle commander—unless the orders that just came in specify otherwise.”

Then, just to Ron Aisins’ right, from an opening in the edge of the console between the communication station and the engineering station, one piece of letter-size paper silently came out and dropped into a wire basked that had swung out from below the shelf surface. That was followed by second piece of paper, and then a third. All three of us looked at the sheets of paper in the catch basket.

“The hard copy of your orders, Sir,” RY’s deep voice said from the overhead emitters. “I’ve included an electronic copy in the shuttle’s log.”

“Very good,” Juliet said, and went quiet. I could feel her contemplating what steps she needed to follow concerning the new orders as she attempted to keep her excitement in check.

“Do you want us to go, Captain?” Ron asked as he focused on Juliet sitting in the articulated seat of the main communications console, a thoughtful look on her beautiful face. “So you can read your orders in private?”

“How ‘bout,” I said when Juliet didn’t immediately answer, “you and I go see how much work’s been done while we got to hobnob with Major Luce? Ron, I’m sure that our Captain will want to brief everyone concerning our new mission at one time, after she’s made herself familiar with what the orders cover.”

“Sounds good to me, Jaym,” the muscular Marine told me with a nod of his head. “Frankly, I’d rather be out in front on a mission. I liked that part about all possible velocity, too; that’s the way to get things done ... sometimes.”

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