Logbook entry

The Olive Grove - "Future, Imperfect"

03 Mar 2018Jemine Caesar
January 9th, 3304


While Suki was performing her allotted task with Apollonia in the ladies' room, Jemine stood duty at the reception podium, using the security cam feed to keep a watchful eye on Idris. As she waited for Suki to return, a young man entered The Olive Grove and made a bee-line for the podium. Jemine gave him the standard greeting and asked his name.

"Jacyn,” he replied, flashing a winning smile. “Jacyn Rynhardt. With a Y."

"Well, Jason Rhineheart Witherwigh," said Jemine, her mouth flickering into a playful grin, "If you'd like to go through to the bar and get yourself a drink, I'll arrange for our loveliest girl to attend to your needs shortly."

"And what if I already found that girl right here?" he said, tapping a finger on the podium. "Surely someone else can do all the meetin' and greetin'."

Jemine looked up at Jacyn, and gave him a mischievous pout.

"I'm afraid everyone else is otherwise engaged at the moment," she said. "And the owner of the club might not like it if I just left the reception area unattended. Even if it was to accompany a devilishly handsome young man."

But Rynhardt was not to be easily deterred.

"I'm sure your boss," he said, folding his arms, "in the interest of making a profit and entertaining the clientele, would be more than happy take your position at the podium herself. All you have to do is ask. So whad'ya say? Give this crew-dog some company?"

"Mister Witherwigh," said Jemine, batting her eyelashes at the smooth-talker, "I can think of nothing I'd rather do right now than to keep you company. But I'm afraid I can't ask my boss to cover the podium for me. You see..."

Jemine beckoned Jacyn towards her and whispered in his ear.

"... I am the boss."

"Well then,” said Rynhardt, clapping his hands, “why don't you take some time off from that dry old management stuff and have a drink with me? You won't regret it. Or maybe, with a bit o' luck, you just might!"

Jemine chuckled softly. "You're persistent, aren't you?" she says. "Look, I shouldn't be too much longer here. Why don't you go through to the bar, find an empty booth, order us some drinks, and I'll be with you as soon as I can."

With that, Rynhardt sauntered happily into the bar. Jemine shook her head and smiled in amusement. Moments later, Suki returned and quickly recounted all that had been said in the ladies’ room. Apollonia’s declaration of love came as no shock to Jemine; that the waif had feelings for her had been evident back in Pegasi. Whether those feelings were born of genuine affection or dangerous obsession, Jemine could not be sure. But one thing was now certain; Apollonia was daring to contemplate escape from Marra Morgan at last.

After asking Suki to keep the matter secret, Jemine entered the bar and found Rynhardt standing at the counter. He was pleasant enough company, with an irrepressibly boyish charm, though Jemine thought that his flight-of-fancy style of flirting was really rather corny. As she listened to his succession of tall tales, Jemine glanced across at Apollonia. The blonde waif was tapping away on her dataslate, an anxious expression on her face.

“Oh, what grand adventures I've been on!” Rynhardt was saying, in full flow. “Like the time I retrieved the Sacred Horn of Gallhallia from the marauding chieftain, Frixus deLaouve."

“Really? That’s fascinating!” said Jemine, just as Suki appeared by her side. In her hand was a dataslate, which she handed to Jemine.

"Forgive my intrusion,” said Suki, “but there is a message for you from Hodkin san. It is marked urgent."

Taking the ‘slate, Jemine read the message.

Jem (it said), Apollonia has been posting on the Pilots Federation social media site in the past few ten minutes. Two poems, apparently praising Marra Morgan, but which in fact contain simple coded messages. The first says ‘Monster’, and the second says ‘Trapped’. I think we know who she’s referring to. Then there’s a third post, in which she seems to be asking for pilots to take her on vacation. It ends, ‘Maybe you're the one who can take these ever-watchful eyes off me?’”

Jemine glanced over at Apollonia. The waif still sat waiting for her mistress, with Idris looming large over her. As Jemine was about to hand the dataslate back to Suki, the device beeped an incoming message. It was from Sam.

“Apollonia’s had a reply," he said. "And believe it or not, it’s from your friend Kyla Emmerich. She happened to be on Citi already, coming to see you. She’s heading for The Olive Grove right now.”

Good old Kyla, thought Jemine.

"Thank you, Suki,” she said as she returned the ‘slate. “Please tell Sam to standby, would you? But ask him to have the ship prepped and ready to leave at short notice. Just in case."

Suki gave a polite bow and left. Jemine cast another glance towards Apollonia, then turned her attention back to Rynhardt.

"Now, where were we?” she asked. “Ah, yes. You were telling me about this sacred horn of yours. Do go on. I’m so enthralled."

As Rynhardt continued to waffle on, Jemine glanced at the clock above the bar. Making a rough calculation, she realised that Marra had already been away with Monagh for almost thirty minutes. If Kyla was to succeed in getting Apollonia out of The Olive Grove, she was going to be cutting it very fine indeed. And, of course, there was Idris to be dealt with first. It was another fifteen nerve-racking minutes before Kyla finally showed up.

"Jem!” she said. “Hi! I probably should have told you I was coming. Sorry!"

"It doesn't matter," said Jemine. "I already know why you’re here, as will everyone in the galaxy with half an eye on social media! You've responded to Apollonia’s call for help. Fortunately, Morgan is at present being entertained by one of my girls, so she should be blissfully unaware of any shenanigans. But we don’t have long; she’s already been gone forty-five minutes. We only have a quarter of an hour at the most.”

Jemine nodded across the bar.

“Apollonia’s over there,” she told Kyla, “along with that big bugger, Idris, standing guard right beside her. If you've got a really ingenious plan to whisk Apollonia away from under his nose, you might want to share it with me now."

Kyla winced. "Apollonia sent me a message telling me to distract Idris somewhow, but all I got right now is 'annoy the big guy without getting my arms ripped off.' Maybe a bar fight...? I'm sorry, Jem, I just didn't think this through."

Jemine frowned and shrugged. "All I can come up with,” she said, “is to switch off the lights and sneak Apollonia out under cover of darkness. But I'm willing to bet that Idris has some sort of night vision thing in his visor. So that's out."

Biting her lip, Jemine shook her head and rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

"Shit,” she hissed, “I can't believe I'm going to even try this. Shit, shit, shit..."

Jemine took off her jacket to reveal a sleeveless black lace top. "I have zero confidence that this will work," she says. "But if it does, be ready to make a move."

Kyla blinked. "What are you going to do?"

"This is a brothel, Kyla," replied Jemine. "The air is full of sex pheromone, and Idris is a fella. What do you think I'm going to do, offer him a cup of tea and a piece of cake?"

Taking a deep breath, Jemine sauntered across the bar, picking up a half full bottle of Pegasi Moon from an empty table as she passed by. Placing a hand on her hip, she slinked her way towards Idris, catching sight of her own reflection in his mirrored visor. Apollonia looked up as she approached, a hopeful smile flickering across her face.

"Hello, Idris," purred Jemine. She tilted her head and smiled coquettishly at the massive man. "This is not much of a party for you, is it? Your mistress is having fun with one of my girls. Who knows what they're getting up to. Can you imagine? This is a pleasure house, Idris. You should be having some fun on your mistress's birthday. Would you like that, Idris? Would you like to have some fun with me?"

Idris’ helmeted head turned slightly toward Jemine.

"Do you like what you see, Idris?" Jemine continues, her voice silky. She laid one hand on the bodyguard’s armour-covered chest. "You must be feeling sooo hot in that thick, heavy black suit. Come with me, Idris. Come with me and take it off. Let me show you a good time."

Suddenly and slowly, Idris raised one gauntleted hand toward’s Jemine’s face and gently caressed her jawline. Jemine held her breath.

"Do you... sing?" Idris asked, his deep, rumbling voice low and uncertain.

Jemine nodded. "Oh, yes!" she replied, breathing faster. "Yes, I sing. You want me to sing for you, Idris? Come with me and I'll sing for you."

As a tearful Apollonia looked on in total bewilderment, Jemine reached up to take hold of Idris’ hand. Furtively tossing a wide-eyed grimace at a dumbfounded Kyla, she nodded urgently towards Apollonia as if to say 'get a move on', then led Idris out of the bar. The moment the door slid shut nehind them, Kyla wheeled round and bolted across to Apollonia.

"Hello, Apples,” she said, offering a hand. “I'm Kyla, a friend of Jemine’s. I’ve come to get you out of here. But we don’t have much time, so we kinda need to move. Like right now."

Apollonia shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

"Merci,” she said. “But I... I can't."


*     *     *     *     *


In bedroom number 3, Jemine stripped down to her underwear and draped herself seductively across the bed. She batted her eyelashes at Idris, pouting and posturing for all she was worth and desperately fighting to control her fear. Idris simply stood, watching her.

“Dim,” he murmured, shaking his head and pointing to the corner of the room. “Stand and sing.”

Jemine blinked. “You mean... you mean you want me to actually sing for you? As in sing a song?”

Idris nodded. Jemine slid herself off the bed and stood where the bodyguard had indicated. As she did so, Idris stepped across the room and lowered his massive frame onto the bed. Jemine waited until he seemed comfortably settled, and then began to sing a soft romantic ballad...


*     *     *     *     *


Meanwhile, at the reception podium, Suki Hai gave her customary greeting of welcome to another arrival at The Olive Grove. It was a bearded man, with a deep scar down the right side of his face. He showed Suki an ID badge which bore the name ‘Jubei Himura’ and the legend ‘Chapterhouse of Inquisition’.

“Within the last hour,” he said, “a young woman posted a series of coded cries for help. Her messages contained the words 'monster', 'trapped', and 'help me'. This is very similar to situations involving abused employees, slaves, or lovers. As a matter of honour, I cannot ignore this. The woman is thin, waiflike, with blonde hair. She looks like someone I last saw two years ago, back in Pegasi. Do you know where she currently is?"

Suki nodded.

"I believe I know the woman of whom you speak. She is presently seated in the bar, awaiting the return of her companions..."


*     *     *     *     *


Along the corridor, fifteen minutes later, the door to room six slid shut. On the floor inside lay Monagh Mallone, naked and staring up at the ceiling, grinning broadly. Her breasts rose and fell with the rhythm of her raptured breathing, and her face glistened with perspiration.

"Now that," she gasped, "was feckin' amazin'. Oh, she's goin' to take some beatin', to be sure."

Getting to her feet, Monagh picked up her bra and knickers and put them on, then surveyed the mess she and Marra had made of the room with their frenzied lovemaking.

"Worth it," said the prostitute as she began to tidy up. "Totally one hundred percent feckin' worth it."


*     *     *     *     *


In the bar, Jacyn Rynhardt was intrigued. He may have been a smooth-talking libertine with an overactive imagination, but he knew a rescue when he saw one. He ambled over to join Kyla, who was doing her utmost to convince Apollonia to leave the bar quickly.

“I can’t,” Apollonia repeated. “I can't leave Idris. Not now. I've never seen him react to anyone like that before, not even Marra. Don't you see? There's a man in there, trapped under that armour and brainwashing! I cannot leave him now. Not with her."
 
From the corner of her eye, Kyla saw the door slide open. Fearful that it was Marra Morgan returning, she sighed in relief to see a bearded man walk in and sit at a nearby table. She turned back to Apollonia.

"Okay,” she said. “How do you propose we convince him to betray her and come with us without tearing us to pieces?"

"I don't know,” replied Apollonia, her eyes shimmering with hope. “But it will take time, more time than we have here. Jemine has shone a light to his darkness, as she did mine. I'm so sorry, but I cannot come with you."

Before Kyla could protest further, a female voice suddenly rang out behind her.

“What the fuck!”

Kyla spun round to find herself face to face with Marra Morgan, hands on hips and snarling with rage.


*     *     *     *     *


In bedroom number three, Jemine came to the end of her third song. Without warning, Idris heaved himself up off the bed and moved slowly towards the door, leaving Jemine to frantically gather up her clothes and put them back on. She followed the bodyguard along the corridor to the bar, hoping that she’d given Kyla and Apollonia enough time to make their escape. As the door to the bar slid open, however, the first thing Jemine saw was the furious face of Marrakech Morgan, glaring at Idris as he stepped obediently into position at her side. Behind Marra sat a distraught Apollonia Purduto, with a terrified Kyla Emmerich and a mystified Jacyn Rynhardt standing next to her. The rest of the bar’s occupants gawped at the scene in silence. Even the music system was mute.

With a sneer of contempt on her face, Marra Morgan slowly walked over to where Apollonia sat, and then turned to face Jemine.

"In Pegasi, we have a saying," she said, reaching down to caress Apollonia's delicate cheekbone. "If you can't defend it, you don't deserve it,"

Suddenly grasping Apollonia by the neck, Marra hauled the startled woman to her feet and shoved her towards Idris. The black-clad man-mountain placed a firm hand on the trembling waif’s shoulder.

"These two are mine," hissed Marra, her eyes blazing at Jemine, "and I am more than capable of asserting that. Try to take them from me, and I'll take from you tenfold."

Jemine stared at Marra for several moments, and then burst out laughing.

"Oh, Morgan!" she said. "You are priceless! Priceless... and totally paranoid. Always jumping to conclusions, seeing threats in every shadow. What makes you think I tried to take anyone away from you? No one is missing, are they? You've been out of the room for an hour, plenty of time for, well, for anything to happen. But nothing did happen. Nobody died. No one has gone missing. Your... friends... are still here, waiting for you."

Jemine's lips curled into a half smile.

"You've had a good time here, Morgan. But you had to go and spoil it for yourself with your baseless accusations. Always bullying, always manipulating... I actually feel sorry for you. As for Idris and Apollonia being yours, you might do well to remember that compassion goes a long way towards keeping loyalty. And the way you're going, it may not be long before that loyalty evaporates completely. Then you'll be all alone, Morgan, and you'll have only one thing to defend. Yourself."

The two women glared at one another for several long, awkward seconds. Finally Marra, her smile unfaltering, took a lingering look around the room.

"Nice place," she said, her voice laden with an underlying malice. Spinning on her heel, Marra beckons Idris and Apollonia to follow her out of the bar. As the armoured minder led Apollonia past Jemine, the pleasure house proprietress heard him mutter a single, barely audible word to her.

"Diolch,"

As soon as the door slid shut, Jemine rounded on Kyla to demand an explanation. Kyla outlined the reason behind Apollonia’s sudden change of heart.

"She wouldn't leave without Idris,” she concluded. “I tried to convince her we'd come back for that brute." She looked down to the ground. "I tried, alright?"

"It's OK, Kyla," said Jemine. "I'm sure you did your best. But Apollonia is totally in thrall to Morgan. It's probably not surprising that she turned down the chance to escape. And as for Idris..."

At that moment, Jubei Himura stood up and stepped forward.

"Young lady," he said to Jemine. "It seems that compassion is the word of the day. Apollonia did not want to leave while Idris is still in Morgan's grasp. That's going to pose a large problem. The big guy has been legitimately brainwashed into a loyal, and I mean to-the-death loyal, guard. If Idris had started anything violent, I don't think Morgan would have stopped him. It was your quick and brave actions that saved this establishment, and the people inside. Exemplary work."

"Thank you," said Jemine. "You sound like a law enforcer, Mister...?"

"Himura. Jubei Himura. You are correct, I am a member of Imperial law enforcement. You recently met with my student, Veronica Richardson. She gave your establishment an absolutely glowing review for the way you treat your employees. You have my respect."

Veronica Richardson had requested a meeting with Jemine in mid-December, to negotiate a contract with The Olive Grove for the supply of sake, an alcoholic drink which Jemine had never heard of. She’d asked Sam about it later, and had been given a comprehensive account of its history and associated customs.

"Ah, Mister Himura," said Jemine, wincing slightly. “I'm afraid you chose a somewhat inopportune moment for your first visit to The Olive Grove. I can assure you that's not the sort of thing which happens here every day."


*     *     *     *     *


Later, in the privacy of her office, Jemine tapped her desktop display and selected a public information access menu. From the menu she called up Galpedia's language database.

"Now then, Idris," she said to herself, "let's see what it was you said to me as you left. Cambrian, I believe..."

Highlighting Cambrian from the list of languages on Galpedia Translate, Jemine activated the audio input option. She cleared her throat.

"Dee olk," she said. It may not have been a precise replication of the phrase Idris actually used, but Jemine knew that Galpedia Translate’s audio-phonetic thingamajig would sort it out. After a few moments the search result appeared on the display:



Input Language Selected....................CAMBRIAN
Input...................................................."Diolch"
Translation..........................................."Thank you"



Jemine Caesar smiled in satisfaction.

"Happy birthday, Marrakech Morgan..."



============================================================================================================

Author's Note:


A huge thank you to Stryker Aune (Jacyn), Sam Hodkin, Simon Datura (Kyla), Marra Morgan (Marra, Apollonia and Idris) and Jubei Himura for their participation and support.
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