Ganymede Station Pt. 02

"You can watch, marshall, I'm not going to charge for this." She informed me, giving my thigh a pat.

I cleared my throat. "What do you know about a man named Wexel Carson?" I asked.

"Hm, Carson, maybe he's gotten a girl here before, who can remember?"

I glowered. This line of questioning wasn't going to get me anywhere.

Tetha turned to the couple on the bed. "You're boring our guest and you're boring me. Mix it up, find some better positions."

The boy moved to his back, holding himself up like a bridge with his feet and elbows against the bed and pushing his groin into the air. The girl struggled to pull herself atop him, grabbing his cock to guide it inside. It didn't look very comfortable but they were obviously flexible enough to handle themselves. He began bucking into her, causing her to bounce on her toes above him. She moaned her assent as her hands grasped at his muscular, flat chest.

"Better." Complimented the brothel owner.

"Cheyne says he's known you for a long time." I mentioned casually.

"Mm, since he was a boy. I knew his father." She admitted.

"Knew him how?" I asked.

"He worked for me, part time." She answered.

"Here?" I asked.

She laughed. "No, he escorted certain goods for me, as the need arose."

"Smuggled for you?" I asked.

"There's an ugly word, but yes." She replied.

"Drugs? People?" I pressed.

She gave me a bored expression. "Next question."

"How do you feel about the kid?" I asked.

She was silent a moment and then barked at the couple frantically writhing on the large mattress.

"Alright, that's enough of that. Boy, it's your turn to play submissive. Girl, find something under the bed and make him moan for a while."

The girl slid off the far side of the mattress and ducked out of sight, reappearing after a minute with a long, black, rubber dick. She hopped back onto the bed and crawled over to the young guy who flipped onto his hands and knees in anticipation. She moved in front of him, slapping the heavy cock against her palm. She pushed the dildo slowly into his mouth and he began to suck automatically, slurping the synthetic dick further down. I didn't mean to but I kept watching, feeling the beginnings of an erection.

"How did you feel about Cheyne?" I repeated, turning back to the woman.

"He was annoying. He was too sweet to be worth a damn as a prostitute, but so pretty, I know you thought so too."

I said nothing in response.

"He wouldn't work for me, wouldn't let me help him, it was sad." She said with a sympathetic look on her face I knew to be false.

"He's missing." I said, stretching the truth a little.

"Oh no, well I hope he's found soon." She said soothingly. She looked to the pair on the bed. "Now fuck him please, show him how it feels."

The young scabarethen flipped around, offering his rear end to the girl and lifting his tail.

"Boy, I want you to face the marshall please. Show him how you like getting fucked."

My heart beat faster. I opened my mouth to protest but part of me liked what was happening. The boy gasped and tensed as he suddenly felt his hole being opened up by the thick dildo. He grunted as she began to push more of it inside, clenching the blanket under him in his fists. With a few more thrusts of the rubber dick he began to become adjusted to the feeling and locked his eyes on mine. They were a bright yellowish orange, full of lust, the same color as Cheyne's were when we fooled around. The boy licked his lips and moaned softly to me. He stretched out so he could reach out a hand to rub my knee. Under his slender front I could see his prick swaying back and forth, swinging a long strand of precum as it did.

"I see, so this is what you like." Tetha mused.

I shifted to look at her and she dropped her gaze to my lap where I was poking my jeans outward in an unmistakable way.

"You can join them if you want." She said.

"I'm sorry?" I asked. There was sweat beading my forehead.

"I don't mind, they would love to have you, wouldn't you kids?" She asked them.

"You'd feel so good inside me, mister, at least give me a taste." Pleaded the scabarethen guy, even as he was drilled again by the heavy cock. "We could do anything you want." Added the girl with an impish smirk.

I found my voice missing, my hands shaking.

"The only question then," Tetha said as she laid her hand on my thigh again. "Is whether you want to fuck the boy or get fucked by him?"

The whole situation, the way I was being manipulated and lied to, and finally her insinuations about Cheyne and myself infuriated me. She was used to getting what she wanted, and I knew she wanted Cheyne dead. I couldn't control myself. I leapt up quickly before she had time to react and grabbed her around the throat with both hands, slamming her into the wall behind the couch. The wall shook with the impact.

She clawed at my big hands and slashed her tail around. The two on the bed gasped and recoiled, moving to the far side of the mattress, putting distance between themselves and the violent marshall.

"Tell me what you know!" I roared at her.

Even as I held her by the neck she somehow still managed a snarl. "You'll be on the next prison ship for this." She hissed.

"Tell me about Carson, tell me what he's going to do!" I bellowed, moving my face closer to hers.

"Ha! Why would I know that?" She gasped, wrenching the side of her face into a mad grin.

The girl from the far side of the bed yelled, "Just tell him before he hurts you!"

"Shut up, you stupid bitch!" Tetha cried scornfully.

"Oh, I won't hurt her, little girl, not for long anyway. You might not know this about your boss but she's had this coming a long time." I squeezed tighter, forcing a sharp cry from the woman.

"Stop, please!" Screamed the girl. "I heard them talking yesterday! She told him to make the kid disappear! Please leave her alone!"

"What else?" I growled.

She was crying now. "That's all I heard! Take him off the station and make him disappear! That's all! Please!" Her body shook as she wailed. The boy stood next to her, his eyes wide with fear.

I dropped Tetha to the couch where she massaged her throat, gasping for precious air. "I'm going to have you killed." She managed hoarsely, her voice dripping with venom.

"Maybe." I said calmly. "But I'm going to find Cheyne before you can take me down."

She laughed, a cold, hollow-sounding noise. "You'll never find him, and if you do, it will be what's left."

I clenched my teeth together as I headed to the door. "Sorry for that kids." I said as I pulled open the door to leave. Behind me the girl was still crying and Tetha, in spite of her bruised vocal chords was still shrieking obscenities and death threats after me, a class act to the very last.

It had been a risky gamble to be sure. I had no doubt that I wasn't going to get anything useful from Tetha, but there was a chance that those kids had heard something they shouldn't. Even considering how I personally felt about the woman, I would never kill an unarmed civilian. I was half expecting some of Tetha's goons to attack me before I could get outside but my escape was surprisingly swift and uneventful. I didn't expect she was a person to make idle threats either.

Time wasn't on my side. Carson had half a day on me, more if you considered the time it took to verify a ship was ready for travel. I thought about what I had learned from the frightened girl. Carson had been given directions to make Cheyne disappear, well, that wasn't explicit and I suspected that he wasn't the type of man to turn down a payday. This meant he likely wouldn't kill the kid, he'd want to turn a profit if he could, which should hopefully give me the time I needed to catch up to him and save my friend. At least, I prayed that it would. If anything happened to that kid... I had to keep that possibility far from my mind for now. If things went sideways on me, I would have my whole life to regret, but I had a plan. I needed to make one last stop by the precinct.

CHAPTER 12.

It was clear from her expression that Abby was concerned. I had spent a few precious minutes catching her up to speed and she seemed skeptical. We were standing in the kitchen where I had found her when I had reached the precinct and dashed inside. Almost everyone had gone home except for the couple night crew arriving and the chief.

"You assaulted this woman, Tetha?" She asked with an even tone.

"She's fine, it was only an act to get her to talk." I explained, again.

"Which she didn't." Abby corrected me.

"Well, no, this other girl did." I placed my hands on my waist.

"And you think she was telling the truth?" Abby pressed.

"There's no reason she would lie about it." I shrugged.

"Unless it was an act that Tetha had planned for you." She said.

"You weren't there, Abby. She was scared, and I believe her." I said with a sharp exhalation.

"Fine, I know that you think she was telling the truth. But it was still a coerced statement, It's not admissible." She countered.

I could feel my face getting angry. I did my best to keep calm, despite the frustration bubbling just beneath my exterior. "Warrant or not, I have to go after this guy. If something happens to Cheyne, something I could have prevented..." I gave her a serious look and shook my head. "I don't think I could handle it, Abby."

Her face softened. "Deacon, I know what this potentially means. I want that young man back safely too. He's a kind man, I liked having him in the office. We all miss him around here." She sighed. "You know I don't have the authority to stop you, marshall. What is it you need from me?"

I wrung my hands, truth be told I was a little anxious. "It's been too long, and I don't know if I can still fly." I said, letting my head droop a little.

She studied my face and considered my position. I hadn't stepped foot on a ship since what happened seven years ago. I hated feeling this way, scared over something I couldn't control.

"Take Reynolds. He can fly, and he needs to get out of the office. He's been on Ganymede too long, just like you."

I shook my head and pouted. "Come on, not Reynolds, he's ridiculous. Give me Ellis, he's a better cop."

"Ellis hasn't spent as long in the field and his wife just had their second child, he wants to be home as much as he can. I respect that."

"For crying out loud. Fine, I'm heading for the spaceport. Tell Reynolds to meet me there, we're leaving as soon as we're cleared."

"Have you filed for a warrant with the marshalls yet?" Abby asked, giving me a measured look.

"I'll do it on the way." I said quickly.

"Dammit, Deacon!" She cursed. "Follow protocol on this if you care about having a job when you get back at all!"

"That's not important right now." I said flatly. "Wish me luck." I doffed my cap as I turned to leave.

"Good luck then." She said with a stoic expression. "Bring him home."

After I had hustled to the docks I had to stand around twiddling my thumbs for fifteen minutes before Reynolds showed up carrying a heavy duffel bag. He was winded as he hurried over to where I was tapping my foot near the airlock to the police cruiser.

"This is urgent, hurry up!" I shouted.

Reynolds huffed and shot me an annoyed glance. "I know how you work, marshall. Did you bring extra clothes? Extra rations if we need them?" He asked with an expectant voice.

"Well, no, there wasn't time." I muttered.

"There was just enough time, hopefully some of these things fit you." He commented as he unlocked the airlock outer door by moving to its side, allowing the retinal scanner to identify him.

The heavy doors slid open with a soft hiss of escaping air.

"You brought me clothes?" I asked, a bit surprised.

"Yes Deacon, if we're going to be sharing a cruiser for the next couple weeks, you're going to wear fresh clothes." He said shortly.

"Alright, alright, thanks." I said as the inner airlock doors hissed open, leading the way into the sleek blue cruiser.

I suddenly felt a twinge of uncertainty as I stared into the dark spaceship. The last time I had been aboard a cruiser much like this one... My legs stopped moving and I could feel my hands begin to tremble. I wasn't sure if I could do this, just another piece of my past I had tried to bury because I didn't know how to cope with it in a healthy way.

Reynolds had already boarded the ship but he turned when I stopped moving to regard me, standing there in the airlock chamber. He was about to say something, I could tell it would be brusque and condescending. Instead he swiped his hand over a console I couldn't see and the ship became flooded with light.

"Come on marshall, let's go get your boy back." He said simply.

I nodded in understanding and forced myself to take another step, then another, and enter the craft. My heart still fluttered and my breathing felt quickened. I leaned against the nearest wall and focused on slowing my breath.

Marshalls didn't necessarily have their own cruisers since they could commandeer the local police's as necessary. The grasp I still had on my marshall star was tenuous at best anyway. I wouldn't fly which meant I couldn't chase perps off-station which meant I might not be able to apprehend. When part of that cruiser had exploded, filling me with superheated shrapnel and gouging out my eye, it had been considered grievous injury in the line of duty. Losing my wife in the same accident meant a commendation and the heads of the marshall service to look the other way about a wounded man who could no longer take to space. Lucky me.

"Start prepping the ship to leave port." I instructed the younger man.

"Obviously. You check out our supplies then." Reynolds said irritably as he headed for the bridge.

I moved down the passage to the small cargo bay to see what our supply situation looked like. The cruiser was usually kept stocked at all times for occasions such as this when we needed to leave in a hurry. There was a weapon rack, three rifles, a wide array of blasters, and smaller firearms, and boxes of ammunition locked behind another retinal scanner. There should be no cause to need this much weaponry, especially between the two of us but there was no telling how Carson would react when we caught up to him. In a storage closet nearby were boxes of rations, enough to last a full crew for several weeks. We certainly weren't going to starve. Nearby was a standing locker filled with proto-fiber vests. We had enough fuel and the ship's diagnostics, according to a console on the cargo bay wall showed everything as looking good. With Reynolds having the presence of mind to bring some changes of clothes for us, I reasoned we had everything we needed to pursue. I shut the cargo bay door behind me and moved up toward the bridge to check in with the sergeant.

"How we looking?" I asked as I entered the bridge.

Reynolds didn't bother to look up but continued accessing screens and pushing buttons across the wide console that was spread out before him. "Cruiser's ready to go, Deac. We'll be leaving Ganymede in about two minutes. How are we on supplies?"

"We're fully stocked, weapons and rations." I informed him.

"I figured, nobody's taken this thing out for a month or so and even then it was just patrol stuff." He said.

The ship's engines roared to life shortly thereafter, causing the craft to shudder briefly.

"That didn't sound great." I grumbled. "You sure you know what you're doing?"

"Give me a break, I know how to fly it's just, been awhile. Go sit down and don't bother me." Reynolds griped.

I muttered to myself as I padded over to one of the crew's chairs along the wall and strapped down.

The cruiser left the dock within another few minutes and began its slow reversal into space. As we moved through the energy shield and into deep space beyond, there was some nervousness settling in my stomach. That, coupled with the nausea over having to acclimate to the lack of gravity for the first time in years was not a pleasant combination. I wouldn't say I had become afraid of flying or being aboard a ship again, but suddenly the reality of what we were working toward struck me fully. The preparation was over and we were now officially in pursuit of Cheyne and his captor.

Reynolds began to bring the ship about, locking in Prometheus' bearing and coordinates. I turned my head to glance out the nearest window at Ganymede Station, the huge grey shell of humanity in the middle of nothing. I hadn't been away from it for so many years. Under better circumstances, I suspected I would be glad to leave it behind.

The sergeant verified that I was strapped down before engaging the cruiser's hyperdrive. It was a strain on the engines but it should allow us to overtake Carson, assuming he kept to a normal freighter pace, within a day.

I unbuckled myself from the seat and floated upwards where I grabbed one of the rails in the ceiling.

"Now the part I hate." I grimaced as I looked through the expanse of glass that formed the front of the ship.

"Oh?" Asked Reynolds.

"The waiting." I said.

The first day on the ship passed with a painstaking, almost deliberate slowness. With nothing to do with my time but twiddle my thumbs, my mind reminded me that I needed a drink, or several. I was suddenly struck by the realization that I hadn't brought any booze on board. It was a police cruiser, there wouldn't be any in stock. I pulled myself down a corridor and found Reynolds reading something on his smartscreen in the galley. He looked at me when I floated over to him.

"What is it?" He asked.

"That uh, bag you brought, what's in it exactly?" I tried to keep the edge of panic from my voice.

He looked me over carefully. "Like I said, extra food, clothes, my personal blaster. Why?"

"Shit." I grumbled.

"Didn't think to bring any alcohol, eh?" He gave me a derisive scowl.

"Fuck you. It, helps me stay calm is all." I explained weakly.

"You going to fall apart now or what? This is supposed to be your operation." He said, pulling his screen back to his wrist and putting it to sleep.

"Don't act so smug, I'll be fine. Just try not to get on my nerves any more than usual." I snapped at him.

I drank coffee, ate dinner by myself and eventually when my body started to become tired, headed for the crew quarters. The room was full of bunks for a complement of about twenty. Footlockers could be found affixed to the base of each bed. I ran into Reynolds there which was something of a surprise.

"Why aren't you in the officer's room? Better bed, privacy." I said, eyeing the man as he lay on his bed in undershorts and a shirt on one of the top bunks. He was loosely strapped down so he wouldn't float away in the lack of gravity and was apparently still reading.

"I'm more comfortable in here. Anyway, you're lead on this marshall, you take it." He replied.

I thought about it and he was right, I was in charge. Reynolds was basically just on loan from Abby to assist as needed.

"I'm actually more comfortable in here too. Maybe it reminds me of bunking with my squad back in my military days." I said.

Reynolds shrugged. "Whatever."

In truth, I don't do well on my own and hate being completely alone. My past always finds me, especially when I sleep and sometimes it terrifies me. Even when I had asked Cheyne to stay with me it had been mostly for my own sake.

I propelled myself through the air to the bunk on the other side of the room facing his. Being a bigger guy I decided on the top bunk as well. I didn't want to suddenly wake up in a strange place during the night and smash my head into the bed above me. I tugged off my boots and socks and stuffed them into the connected locker. Then I stripped out of my jacket, button-down shirt and jeans then shut them up in the trunk. I tugged down the blankets tucked tightly against the sides of the bed when a thought occurred to me. I opened the footlocker again and rummaged through my jacket and found a piece of paper. I held it carefully in my fingers as I pulled myself against the mattress by a bed rail running its length. I unfolded the paper and wedged it carefully against the side of the bed before pulling the straps over myself.