XTC 2.7

Gina's log. X has been continuing to grow and develop during this trip. He's been acting a lot more romantic than when we first met and is regularly expressing emotions. He still tends to be the strong, silent type most of the time, but ever since hooking him up to the computer on the wreck of the Mort, he's been very talkative. When I first met him, he would just take what he wanted, without really saying anything. Now... well, he still just takes what he wants, but now I get kisses. I can't tell if his personality is changing, or if he's just experimenting with something new and testing my reactions. Sometimes, with him, I feel like I'm an experiment, a bug in a jar. I guess it doesn't matter. I'm definitely the winner, either way. Besides, I guess it's pretty awesome that I seem to be the only thing he feels is really worth studying. I have no idea why. I'm not that interesting, and there's such a big universe out there. ... Why do I deserve his attention?

.

Her rover was parked up on a hill, overlooking the valley. Laying in the shade beneath it, Captain Miller adjusted her grip on her rifle. Placing her eye to the scope, she tried to spot the rover through the blowing sand, but it proved impossible. All she could see was a swirling blanket of red and gold. She and Number One were close enough to see the storm, but far enough away to not get caught in it. It spread well off into the distance, but at least it appeared to be fairly localized and was lightening up already, moving on to redder pastures.

With the amount of shielding on X, he was virtually impossible to track, but Gina was another matter. She was sure that the two of them were in there. The little handheld the twins had given her was picking up the signal from the gazillion little nanos swimming around in Gina's bloodstream. The signal was faint, but it was there. She'd have to get X to give the girl a booster. Handy little things, she decided. It was a lot more discreet than microchipping, and a lot harder to lose than an object with a transmitter in it. Best of all, she didn't have to ask Nigel for them (or tell him about them). The twins were definitely going to have to come up with a means of extending their signal range and lifespan. Still, perhaps the next time the girl slept, she'd have her chipped. Just easier, all around.

"Just have to encourage her to have a sound nap," she mumbled to herself. Shouldn't be a problem. She expected the girl liked a nice glass of wine as much as the next person. She could simply walk up to her and jab her with a chip injector, but why make a fuss unnecessarily? It was for her own good, at any rate.

"Captain?" Number One asked, having overheard.

He was lying beside her, and she nearly did a double-take. His skin-job was impressive. Gina had outdone herself. Despite the girl's irritating lack of self-confidence, she was bloody brilliant. Even at this distance, she had to remind herself that he was a construct. From a metre away, it was impossible to tell.

"Nothing, just planning."

"Ah, scheming."

"Planning," she insisted, shooting him a warning look.

She turned her attention back to the clouds rolling through the valley. She wasn't particularly concerned about the rover or its occupants. Having been in many a storm in her life, she knew that they were a lot more impressive from the inside (where all you could see was sand), than they truly were. The winds weren't especially strong, and there wasn't nearly so much sand as there seemed to be. The winds whipped it into a frenzy, and in the lower gravity, it took a fair little while to settle. While anyone who'd ever seen the effects of a sandstorm could attest to the danger of it, she'd rather that than, say, a hurricane.

The droids were programmed to survive hostile environments, and X was clever enough to have at least partially sheltered the vehicle. Even if the rover were completely buried in sand, not needing to breathe, he would eventually dig them out... given enough energy. She was quite confident that Gina was keeping his kinetic drive fully primed.

With nothing to do but wait, Miller set her rifle down and considered.

"Whatever shall we do with ourselves?" she asked, eyes lazily scanning the desert.

Number One seemed to have a few ideas in that regard. His hand slid up the back of her thigh and over the nearest cheek of her ass. He gave it a lingering squeeze, and then his palm settled in the small of her back.

"And what, exactly, are you doing?" she asked, glancing at him sidelong.

Rather than answer, he leaned closer to her and nuzzled her neck.

"Are you quite sure this is appropriate?"

Despite the reluctance in her words, icy-hot shivers raced through her and made her giggle in a most undignified way. Number One reached around her and began undoing the button of her pants. The sensation of firm, yielding flesh pressed against her was so utterly and deliciously different from the hard plastic she'd become accustomed to, that she didn't dare move, lest he draw away. She closed her eyes and quietly purred in appreciation when his lips slipped beneath her collar and kissed the nape of her neck.

"I think you have a definitely skewed sense of priorities," she commented, ducking her head to expose more of her neck.

Miller didn't say a word, just smirked as he started to work her pants down off of her hips.

"I have a skewed sense of priorities," she muttered to herself, lying there with her bottom bared to the breeze. She forced her eyes to scan the valley.

The droid shuffled lower down her body. His palms slid up the back of her thighs and glided over her ass. Squeezing one firm cheek in each hand, William—One—parted them. She could feel him watching her closely. He was deliberately making her wait, making her anticipate what he would do—evil-minded bugger. She bit her lip and moaned as his broad tongue pressed deeply into her.

"We definitely shouldn't be doing this," she hissed.

Number One ignored her protest, wiggling his tongue inside her, his face pressed as deeply into the valley of her ass as he could get it.

"But, don't stop," she gasped.

That talented tongue played first between the swelling lips of her pussy, then moved up to tease her crinkle. The act was nasty and exciting. It teased over it, then pushed its way inside of her, making her inhale sharply. Just as she began to moan and squirm, he changed direction and switched back to her other orifice. Back and forth he went until she gave in and said it.

"Stop teasing me, you evil bastard," she gasped, trying to look at him over her shoulder. "Give me that dick already."

He didn't need a second invitation. Climbing atop her, the droid straddled her thighs. He braced himself on one arm, his free hand guiding himself to his target. Shivers rippled through her and she squirmed impatiently. He sank fully into her in one long, slow push, piercing her as deeply as he could.

"Ooh, that's it," she breathed.

Sweet, sweet heat filled her. It was like the first sip of a fine wine, that first bite of cake barely out of the oven. She writhed beneath him, trying to tilt her hips up into his.

"So good..."

Miller bit her lower lip and whimpered. She tried to force herself to keep scanning the horizon, even as her eyes fought to close in pleasure.

"Oh, gods, you long-dicked bastard," she moaned.

He drove down into her with long, deep thrusts that made her gasp hotly. The position caused her to grip him extraordinarily tightly, and the friction was almost unbearably good. It was relentless heat, the brakes on a runaway train.

"More, more, you sweet, hot fucker," she whined.

The climax tore through her like thunder. Eyes screwed shut, Miller clenched her fists and desperately did her best not to howl her enjoyment to the winds. Number One froze above her, hips shuddering as though he were coming inside her. The pantomime made her clench even harder.

"Oh, gods!" She bit her finger in an effort to keep quiet.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he withdrew... in one long movement that sent more hot tremors spilling through her.

Number One flopped onto his back on the sand beside her and let out a heavy breath. She considered that sometimes his simulations of human behaviours were unnecessarily thorough. At least, he didn't roll onto his side and start snoring. Her head sank towards the sand and she fought for breath.

"You have a disturbingly pornographic mind," she gasped.

Lifting her head, she looked at him and grinned.

"Perhaps your best feature."

William returned her glance and smiled.

Wiggling back into her pants, Miller buttoned them and glanced back down the valley toward the drifting clouds. Sudden movement caught her eye: a head popped up, seemingly from the sand itself, only a couple hundred metres away. Sneaky bastard! All this time, right there in front of her. Her hands instantly flew to her rifle, and she sighted in on him. As she focused her scope, she watched a man climb out of a sand dune. It was an optical illusion, of course. She knew by the way that he moved that he was getting out of a vehicle that was covered in camouflage (either netting or a shelter), and buried in sand. He was tall, brown-haired, and had disproportionately large arms. She'd found her man.

She thanked the maker that she was behind him. With her vehicle on higher ground, there was the risk of being silhouetted against the sky. She'd tried to avoid it by not sitting right on the dune's crest, but there was no accounting for chance. As she watched, a new danger revealed itself. He raised a scope to his eye, then consulted something he was holding in his other hand. She wasn't sure what he was using, but it was obviously how he was tracking the hapless duo trapped inside the storm. Was it some kind of enhanced infrared? Was it tracking a radio frequency she wasn't aware of? Had his company planted a bug on X? If he turned around, would he see her, force her hand?

"Devious, rotten, son of a bitch," she muttered under her breath.

Her pussy was still quivering distractingly from William's fucking, and she took a deep breath to get herself under control. She mentally cursed the corporate arsemonger again, for disrupting her afterglow. All she wanted to do was pull out her vape and unwind while assigning Number One the boring task of looking for the bad guy. Now, because of his sudden imitation of a prairie dog, the task fell to her to watch him.

"Just what are you doing, Benny?" she muttered, licking suddenly dry lips.

Derek may think Gina was his goal, but his target was obviously X. Her company had already proven once that they felt she was disposable. Well, damned if they'd kill a member of her team, and they sure as hell weren't getting their hands on her droids.

She considered taking care of this immediate irritant right now, but suddenly, a rover appeared on the horizon, approaching fast. It was headed directly toward the agent.

"Danger, Captain Miller, danger, danger," Number One muttered, cheekily.

Miller shot a glance at Number One, but decided to wait and see what happened.

The rover drove straight toward him, but the agent didn't run, and didn't reach for a weapon, which she thought odd. He looked at the approaching vehicle through his scope, and waited patiently.

How were they tracking him? They'd headed straight for him, yet showed no sign of noticing her. She was thankful for that, but it struck her odd. This whole thing was getting more bizarre by the minute, and she didn't like it one bit. Did they know each other? Were they working with him? She'd been led to believe that he was alone. Apparently, her intel had been incorrect. Perhaps they'd been hired after he'd dropped off her radar, or had been here on Mars already, waiting for him.

The approaching vehicle was a full-sized rover, like her own—tall, with enormous wheels. If most of the gear was carried on top, it could act as a personnel carrier, which was what they most closely resembled. That was how this one was being used. It rolled to a stop a few metres from Benny and five people climbed out.

Thankfully, they had approached the agent from behind, which meant that even though they were scanning the area for any other hostiles, they were facing the storm, rather than facing her. None of them thought to turn around.

The newcomers didn't look remotely corporate. Even as roughneck as the agent looked, he was nothing like this new group. Everything about them screamed professional criminals, or perhaps mercenaries.

Miller watched intently for the appearance of weapons. Obviously, everyone was bound to be armed. It was simply a question of what with. Guns were illegal on Mars. Should she be caught with the ones she herself owned, the penalty was deportation and a life sentence. Unless they'd been brought in officially, she was one of the few people on Mars who could get one, and that was one thing she wasn't inclined to share. That didn't mean that these people wouldn't be armed. She was hardly the only smuggler on Mars, and legitimate security services might have them, if the company jumped through enough hoops. Of course, there were a lot more weapons in the universe than just guns, but it would certainly make life easier if she was the only one here to be so blessed.

The apparent leader of the mercenaries marched right up to the agent while the rest of them fanned out in a rough semi-circle around him. She wasn't sure why, but the two men didn't appear to be on friendly terms. The merc acted as though he owned the desert, and his stance was definitely confrontational. If Benny were worried, though, he didn't show it.

"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise," she whispered. "Looks like daddy should have called before going out with the boys."

Her eyes widened at what happened next. The agent and the mercenary exchanged increasingly heated words, each man getting in the other's face. Neither would be intimidated. The argument ended when the mercenary suddenly stepped into the agent. They stood nearly motionless for a long moment, then the agent staggered back several steps, turned and collapsed into the sand. The merc was holding a bloody knife. He spit at the body.

Miller inhaled sharply. She'd expected that there might be an argument, but assumed that if they were on the outs over something, that the agent would be forced to just go away mad, or at worst collect a beating. She hadn't expected such a cold and fatal end. She herself hadn't intended to kill the man unless she had no choice. She preferred to remain in the shadows, and failing that, to bribe, buy or intimidate. Only if that failed, would she consider resorting to the ultimate resolution. She'd planned to capture and interrogate him, then send him packing.

"Do I need to guess what their next target is?" she asked, shooting the droid a sidelong glance.

"Short of learning the force, I see only one option," he replied after a moment.

"I don't think androids can learn the force."

"Shall I?" he asked, shifting out from beneath the vehicle.

The captain deliberated a moment before giving the order. She sighed. "Make it so." This was not her first choice, but she didn't see any alternatives, either.

"Number One?" she called after him.

"Yes, captain?"

"Don't get hurt."

"I'll try."

"Do, or do not. There is no try."

"Yes, captain." Turning, he quickly slunk off down the hill, circling so as not to draw attention to her position.

The captain watched through her scope as impassively as possible. Her droids were repurposed military robots, updated and reconfigured by the twins the best they knew how. Thanks to their ingenuity, and Gina's artistic skill, the clunky, functional and obviously robotic things they'd started with were now visually indistinguishable from human from only a short distance, encased in the toughest armour known to man. That armour could still be pierced by the right ammunition, and anyone could land a lucky blow through a joint. As clever as they were, her droids were also far from infallible, a fact she didn't like to think about, though it was always in the back of her mind.

"Have a care, tin man," she muttered as Number One sauntered into view, and walked right up to them.

Though the mercenaries were shocked by his sudden appearance, not a single one drew a weapon. That was a bonus. They likely assumed that this new interloper, alone, unarmed and seemingly unarmoured, would be as easily dealt with as the overconfident Benny was. She had no doubt as to their intentions. Though they'd rifled his pockets, they'd made no attempt to hide the body, even with the appearance of an unexpected stranger.

She had no idea what Number One's ploy was to get in close to them; she assumed he'd either pretend to be a friend of Benny's or, more likely for an android, simply walk right up to the man without explanation. Regardless, it worked. Their leader stepped in to interrogate the droid, his knife drawn and concealed behind his back, while the others closed in to prevent One's escape.

A threatening question was posed. One responded. Miller smirked. She could read the droid's lips. 'Fuck you, asshole.' She could hear the iconic accent in her mind's ear. The violence started a split second later. While the mercenary was still registering the insult and working up to anger, Number One stepped into him and drove his forehead into the man's nose. His elbows, harder than bone, quickly finished the job.

Weapons were instantly in all hands. She didn't see any guns, but there were an array of blades and electrified batons. She wasn't at all certain what that might do to him. Theoretically, his systems should be shielded well enough to survive quite a jolt, but it wasn't like she'd ever electrocuted him just to find out.

"We're bloody well not going to find out," she cursed under her breath. Miller adjusted her grip and took a slow, steady breath.

Boom. One less.

Stunned, the mercenary closest reeled back and stared at his fallen comrade.

Boom. One less.

Meanwhile, Number One fought a pitched battle with the remaining two. She didn't dare fire for fear of hitting him. All she could do was watch and wait for an opening.

It was unnecessary. As the one's baton swung down, the droid caught his hand in an iron grip. He jerked the man from his feet effortlessly, and drove the electrified weapon into the face of the second assailant. She was thrown, mid-lunge with her knife, backwards into the sand, writhing in pain. Number One continued to jerk the man about like a rag doll, using his wrist for a pivot and throwing him heavily to the ground, on top of his ally. The movement broke the wrist. The droid then picked up the dropped weapon and thrashed the both of them with baton and boot until they stopped moving. At the end of the brutal, but effective, display, Captain Miller got to her feet, slung her rifle over her shoulder and slogged down the hill to join her companion.

"Excellent work, Number One," she offered, stepping around the nearest body and into the midst of the carnage.

"Thank you, Captain. I could say the same."

"Well, let's find out who that was, shall we?" she said, spying Benny.

"Crewman number six?" he hazarded.

"Your doctor is going to be cross with you," she commented, glancing down at a gaping wound in his side. Of course, the blade hadn't been capable of piercing his armour, but his RealSkin would need to be patched. With the subdermal sensor array, she was sure that it had to have been painful, but he'd never reacted or let it slow him down.

William felt her concern, but didn't respond with words. Caressing her cheek, he bent his head for a kiss. It was sweet and deep. The captain's eyes sparkled and she smiled at him when their lips parted.