Cmdr Dixon-Phyre
Role
Bounty hunter / Adventurer
Registered ship name
Vindicta
Credit balance
-
Rank
Elite
Registered ship ID
Type-10 Defender DX-8F5
Overall assets
-
Squadron
RazorGoat
Allegiance
Independent
Power
Yuri Grom

Logbook entry

Paths of Absolution, Part Six: Life Anew

23 Sep 2022Dixon-Phyre
Contains adult content.

More beer had been consumed, and whilst not drunk, they were definitely very merry, as they whirled barefoot around the hotel room.
“ - and shall we still be together -“ sang Mikael.
“ - with our arms around each other -“ Ramona continued.
“- shall we dance, shall we dance, shall we dance!” they chorused, coming to a giggling, breathless halt.
It probably wasn’t much of a coincidence that they had ended up next to the bed. Ramona’s face took on a serious aspect as she began to unbutton his shirt, slipping it down his arms and tossing it to one side. Ran her fingers over his chest.
“Hmmm….not bad….” she murmured. He was no muscle-bound hunk, but kept himself in reasonable shape. Her hands dropped to the waistband of his shorts and began to work them off.
She stepped back, and there was a flutter of material as she discarded her dress.
Glanced down. “Oh my,” she said, “I see one rumour’s true, at least.”
Mikael raised an eyebrow. “There’s never a rumour about that, is there?” Her face remained straight for a few moments, but she couldn’t help herself and grinned.
“Okay, no,” she admitted, “but I’m certainly going to start one!”
They both began laughing as she stepped towards him. She was well-proportioned, nicely curvy without excess. The prosthetic did nothing to to detract from the fact she was an exceptionally attractive woman.
Their arms were around each other, flesh against flesh and mouths meeting.
“Mikael?” she said softly.
“Yes, Ramona?”
“Please be gentle with me.”
“I’d never be anything else….”
And then, with the inevitability of a star falling into a quantum singularity, they were drawn down to the embrace of the mattress.

Bathed in the gentle warmth of flesh and blood, Mikael and Ramona kissed and cuddled, everything else forgotten in their mutual desire. The touch and feel of skin, breath and hair; nothing else mattered.
His lips worked their way down her neck, across the collarbone and shoulder, moving slowly down the length of her arm - a hand caressing his face - and back again. Down the curve of the flank, and then set out on the trek across the smooth plain of her belly, the faint trace of shrapnel scars still visible. Up the other flank and the arm and across the shoulder. That circumnavigation complete, the explorer made his way towards the magnificence of twin mountains, following a gradual circling route until paying homage at each summit.
Ramona’s hands wandered over his torso, feeling the smoothness of his skin, noting the occasional mole, the movement of muscles. Fingers slowly skimmed down his front until she reached the pelvis, and slowly grasped him, smiling at his groan of pleasure. Delicately passed him back and forth over her loins, teasing them both. Finally, she could wait no longer, lay back and guided him in. Gasping as he entered, even though he was as careful as he had promised. Moving against each other, senses drowning in their actions. He cradled her head in his hands, their eyes fixed on each other. Then her hands moved and grasped his buttocks, driving him in deeper and harder, teeth clenched and hissing as the sensation gradually spread outwards from below, the inevitable peak rushing towards them -

The climax was the most intense Mikael had ever known, almost like a blow to the head. His body spasmed and his face ended up in the crook of her neck, inhaling the sherbet-sweet scent of her perfume.
Ramona seemed similarly affected. Her head arched back, arms flung to outstretched, eyes closed. Then opened again, staring at him strangely, as if she momentarily did not recognise him. Lids fluttered and she took his head and drew it to hers, kissing him soundly.
“Wow,” she said, repeating the osculation.
“Wow indeed,” he replied.
Lights extinguished, they lay in the dark under the sheet, in a loose cuddle.
“When…when you’re young and the hormones begin to flow,” Ramona mused, “you wonder what it will be like. The first time.” Finger tracing a figure-of-eight around his eyes, “and I’m pleased to say, I have no complaints whatsoever.”
Mikael wound a lock of her hair around his fingers. “So that’s why you said to be gentle…”
“Well, that and I am technically an invalid,” she said, then sighed. “and soon the future will beckon and I don’t know what I shall do.”
“The ship would seem empty without you.”
“I can’t go on freeloading forever!”
“You won’t have to. Fancy being a fighter pilot? Flying a zippy little GU-97 from the comfort of the telepresence suite aboard In Nomine Mortis?”
“Really? You mean it?”
“Of course I do, you daft wench.”
She pinched him in a sensitive place.
“Ow! Or you can scrub the decks if you carry on like that!”

“Mikael,” Ramona called. She was stood in the central corridor of the T-10, looking at the welded-up cabin door.
“Yes, milady?” She heard the sound of bootsteps echoing towards her. As he appeared, she looked at him.
“You’ve got an arc cutter, right? Well-equipped guy like you?”
“I do indeed.”
“Would you fetch it for me, please?”
“May I ask why?”
Ramona tapped the sealed door. “This. Needs something done about it.” She observed the way his face changed, the faint lines of stress. Turned and stepped towards him, cupping the back of his neck.
“You can’t let the ghosts of the past haunt you forever, my knight,” her voice soft, “so I’m going to evict the bad memories from this room and replace them with positive things.”
“What…exactly do you mean by that?”
“You’ll see.”
He knew better than to argue, and brought the cutter and a mask. She nodded, and pointed at the door.
“Get on with it, huh?” She winked.
Muttering something under his breath, Mikael stuck his tongue out at her and got to work.
Within a few days, the empty room had been transformed into a small arboretum. One side held racks of hydroponic gear, the other shelves with soil-filled pots, all adapted for low or zero gravity. Ramona began planting seeds and bulbs. “This side,” pointing to the hydro setup, “some fruit and veg, and that side, pretty flowers and succulents!” Mikael watched her work, saw the gentle smile on her face and wondered how long she had ached to do this…how long she had kept it repressed.
Her progress as a fighter pilot blossomed too. From shooting at slowly spinning chunks of ice in a planetary ring system to taking down her first live target, the whoop of victory over the comms. And the less glorious moment where the GU-97 disintegrated after she misjudged a turn and ploughed it straight into the T-10’s shields.

In Nomine Mortis hung in realspace, orbiting a desolate rocky world. Its parent star was slowly emerging from behind it, filling the sky with radiant light.
Two people stood side-by-side on the bridge of the ship, arms around each other’s waists, drinking in the view.
“Nice juicy compromised nav beacon not far from here,” said Mikael, “shall we go find some paydirt, my dear?”
“Ooh yes, let’s go kick some pirate ass.” She paused, looked at him. “You do know you’ve made me a very happy girl. Are you happy, my knight?”
“Yes. I am. And Ramona…”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
They kissed.

THE END
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