XTC 2.6

"Oh, that's it..." she gasped, fists balling.

Hands braced on her hips, he drove himself down into her with an easy rhythm that plunged a bit more than half of his length into her with each thrust.

Gina never noticed the whistling of the wind, the rasping of the dust across the window, how dark it had gotten with the front windshield mostly buried, or even the rocking of the floor beneath her. His position caused his cock to pierce her at a sharp angle that quickly had her body soaring. Doggy style was easily the best position ever. She couldn't see his face, but the things his cock did to her from behind more than made up for it. The only way it could be better, she thought, would be if he'd drop to his knees so that he could drive himself all the way in until his hips were slapping against her ass. She'd barely thought it before she was gushing hot cream around him.

Her pussy hadn't even finished clenching around him before her mechanical lover decided that he wanted something different.

"Come, Machine's Mate," he commanded.

"I am," she whimpered.

He guided her to kneel on the passenger seat, facing the back. The position left her feet and the large, round globes of her ass hanging out over the edge. She grabbed the cushion and looked over her shoulder just in time to see him kneel behind her.

"Mmm," she purred as he slid up inside her again.

He grabbed the arm rests, his broad chest pressed against her back, and he leaned his head close to hers. His lips tickled her ear.

"You are so hot," he whispered.

Excited shivers raced through her, and her body squeezed him tight. She didn't have the opportunity to say anything—his hips started to grind against her. Steady and deep, his thick shaft sluiced up into her relentlessly. Panting, she rocked back against him. The slap, slap, slap of his hips against her rebounded in the small space, and the air was thick with the scent of her lust.

"Give it to me," he purred, curling an arm around her belly. Reaching beneath her, he started rubbing her clit.

His cock was pure heat, sliding in the grip of her tight, wet flesh. Gina's fingers dug into the seat and she arched her back.

"It feels so good," she purred, squirming in pleasure.

"Give it to me," he repeated.

Throwing her head back, Gina moaned loudly as her climax washed over her.

X pressed his body tight against hers, his hips rolling in small, slow circles until he felt the waves recede.

"Thank you, sir," she gasped.

X climbed to his feet and sank back into the driver's seat. Gina risked a glance out the side window. She wasn't sure, but it looked like the storm might be letting up.

.

As Nigel had said, the Johnson Long was indeed docked in orbit. The ship's crew had all shuttled down to the surface to take advantage of the local amenities. Of the six, five were easily accounted for with only a few calls, thanks to the friendly and helpful customs inspector. The last one had last been seen by her favourite mechanic.

"There was a guy here looking for that girl X2 took out to your place."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He told me that he was looking for a former shipmate who'd retired here. Said she had a droid with her and he wanted to buy it off her."

"Hm."

"I could tell he was full of shit. Nobody retires to Mars. And, does he even know who he's looking for? She's nowhere near old enough to retire from anything. Shipmate, my ass. I didn't tell him anything."

"And what did this man look like?"

"Shady. About two metres, I guess, a bit under. Medium build, big arms. Kinda scruffy, brown hair, like he was a dock hand or something. If he was on a ship, he sure wasn't the captain. Maybe he was a wrecker. I don't know, just something about his eyes, he just looked shifty."

Miller decided not to comment. Derek could nearly have described himself. Perhaps it took one to know one.

"How did you know it was X2?" she couldn't help asking.

"I didn't at first. You gave him a really good skin job. Something about him, though. I knew it was one of your droids. Besides, who else would be headed out there?"

"How did you know it was X2 and not X1?"

"X1 would never have let the girl barter for a rover, even if it wasn't yours anyway. He'd have just took it."

"Hm," she replied. Were they really becoming that different? Their personalities seemed to be growing—and diverging—more with each passing day.

"Anyway, I really knew something was up when he asked about your ship."

"My ship?"

That information made her sit up.

"Yep. Asked if I know who owns Le Petit Mort, cause he saw its shuttle sitting in the dock. Said since you wouldn't be needing it, he'd offer to buy it off you. Guess he didn't know you have more than one ship, and you've probably commissioned a replacement for the Mort already."

The captain shifted her jaw thoughtfully.

"He was trying to be all clever, but he wasn't fooling me. He's looking for the girl. I didn't tell him anything."

"Are you sure he said 'Le Petit' and not 'La Petite'?"

"Yes, Captain."

"You're certain?"

"Yes, Captain. 'Le Petit'."

"Hm."

Miller thought a moment while Derek waited patiently. The ship's name was spelt correctly on official documents, but not on the hull itself, and thanks to William's spelling, the only people looking for a ship by that name would have to have seen it, or have been specifically told about it. The ship's name wasn't written on the shuttle; it was on the ship's aft, near the engines—engines which were now largely non-existent and attached to a hunk of metal slowly drifting towards Jupiter, the last she'd seen.

.

The wind had died down to a strong breeze, but the dust was so fine that it swirled and obscured their vision like a curtain. Since X hadn't finished the maintenance on the probe they were here to fix, there was nothing they could do but wait it out.

"What's your favourite music?"

"Techno."

She stared at him, unsure if he was teasing or not. He was smirking, but he'd said it completely seriously. He was so impossible to read sometimes. She gave up and tried a different question.

"Well, what's your favourite colour?"

"Gold."

"What's your least favourite?"

"Rust."

"X!"

.

"Sorry, captain. Thanks to that dust storm, there's no way to raise them on the rover's radio."

"We could try to find her by using the nanos," Lucas suggested.

"She certainly has enough of them in her," Leah agreed. She glanced away almost as quickly as she'd suggested it, remembering having put a particularly large number of them in the tech herself the first day they'd met her.

"I thought you said they were only trackable for 48 hours."

"Easily trackable for 48 hours," Lucas corrected.

"Their lifespan is actually considerably longer," Leah added. "It'll just be more challenging."

Captain Miller crossed her arms and glared at them. She hated their tendency to couch details in semantics. If the pair of them weren't so useful...

"Of course, their practical range is still only 1000 metres," Leah frowned.

"But, perhaps we could extend that by using the communications satellites and beacons," Lucas suggested.

"If they're more than a kilometre from where they should be, then something has gone a lot more sideways than an extraterrestrial snoop." The captain went to a cabinet mounted in the wall and stuck her finger to the biometric lock. The door hissed open and she retrieved a well-used pistol from inside. "Number One, bring the rifle and prepare a rover," she commanded, tucking the pistol into the back of her pants.

"Yes, captain," the droid affirmed, pulling a large, metal case from the cabinet and heading for the garage.

"Are you going to look for them?" Lucas asked, unnecessarily.

The sight of the guns and the potential violence they symbolized—especially the sniper rifle, even in its case—was unnerving to the scientists. They both fidgeted anxiously before the dark cloud brewing in the captain.

"The last time her company wanted to speak to her, they asked someone to kill her should she prove uncooperative," the captain commented. She resolved to have Nigel inquire into the details of Miss Kathryn Reimer when she returned. "I doubt they'll be any more civil this time."