Cmdr Kodeyne
Role
Fighter / Adventurer
Registered ship name
Big Bad Wolf
Credit balance
-
Rank
Elite IV
Registered ship ID
Federal Corvette K-666F
Overall assets
-
Squadron
RazorGoat
Allegiance
Independent
Power
Independent

Logbook entry

Escape Lane, part two

10 Jan 2021Kodeyne
Ophelia's eyes flickered open. Above her, an unadorned cream-coloured ceiling, the panel of an darkened light fitting. Unable to work out what had woken her up.
She slowly turned her head to the right, saw the mass of black curls that topped a figure snuggled under the duvet.
Alison.
Ophelia wiped her hands down her face. Almost always before, waking up next to someone had involved a wave of guilt and self-loathing. Quietly dressing in the dark and creeping out, back to her ship where she would take a razor blade and add another line to the tally on her biceps, watching the blood run down the arm until it dried.
But for the first time, waking up next to someone felt good. She lay and listened to Ali's breathing.
 
Ping. Still half-asleep, she wasn't sure if the muffled sound was real or not. Sat up and looked around the room, dimly lit by a soft green glow from the wallscreen. 
She mumbled random nonsense and strained to locate the noise. After a couple of minutes, she gave up and pulled the duvet back up. Rolled over and found herself looking into a pair of sleepy brown eyes.
"'Sup, girl?" Alison's voice was muffled by the pillow, "muttering away to yourself...."
"Nothing," Ophelia replied, feeling under the duvet until she found one of Alison's hands.
The light of the wallscreen increased fractionally. Station dawn...
Ping.  "What is that noise?" she muttered. 
Ali frowned. "It's your datapad, isn't it? Message waiting or something."
"That's it. Well spotted, girl!"
"Well, go get it, huh?"
Ophelia squinted at the mischievous expression next to her.
"I can see who's going to be the nag in this relationship," she said sourly.
"Ooh, you little bitch!"  Alison swung a leg across under the quilt, planted a foot on Ophelia's hip and pushed her slowly out of the bed.
"Ahh, it's cold out here!"
"Quit whinging, graffiti-face!"
"I'll get you for that, spud-muncher!" 
"Promises, promises!"
Ophelia padded over to her bag, goosebumps prickling her skin, and retrieved the datapad.
Turned and dived back under the quilt. Alison cuddled up and kissed her.
"Ophelia," she said softly, "before I forget..."
"Hmm?" Turned the datapad over and unlocked it with a thumbprint.
"Last night - thank you for making it so beautiful."
Ophelia rarely blushed. She did now, and there was an awkward, embarrassed moment of silence.
She brought up the message that had been waiting for her. "Hmm...that's odd...it's come from an encrypted service..."
 
'Commander Myshkin.
Having learnt of the attack on your person, I am given to understand you are on the road to recovery and this news pleases me greatly.  However, I need to warn you that the problems we have faced may not be over yet.  The men who attacked you on Mars High were supposedly taken into custody. But after this, they appear to have slipped through the net. All my enquires have turned up nothing. This stinks of yet more bribery and corruption in the Federal Security Service. The despicable Mr. Estri may be heading for a very long jail term, but he still casts a shadow over us.
 
What I can tell you, though, is that some digging has turned up who those men are. Mercenaries, obviously. Their leader is a former Imperial special ops sergeant, and the other two have similarly shadowy backgrounds. The impression I get is that they are the kind of men who will see a job through to its end, no matter what. Resourceful. Amoral. I strongly suspect that they will seek you and Miss Keenan out, because that is what they have been paid to do.
 
There is some time, though. They will be licking their wounds after the beating you gave them. I still have reliable contacts in the FSS and you may be assured that I am going to find these desperados and see them brought to justice.

Watch your back, Commander.

Yours respectfully,

Cornelius Monfort'
 
Ophelia said some very bad words. Ali closed her eyes, and thumped the mattress, hard.
"Hell and damnation," she growled, "will we never be free of him? I thought, finally..."
Ophelia switched the datapad off and put it on the bedside table.
"Likewise. But at least we know now. And we can plan ahead."
Her hands and arms were cold, from holding the datapad. Brought them back under the quilt. Ali wrapped herself around Ophelia again, and they slipped into a doze in the warmth of each other's bodies.
 
It was an hour or two later. Ali had her head nestled into Ophelia's shoulder. She gave a contented little sigh.
"Hey, Ophelia?" she murmured, "you still got that spiky ship?"
"Hmm? Which one? They're all fairly spiky!"
"The one we rode out of Mars High at the start of all this."
"Devil's Daydream? Yep. Why do you ask?"
"No reason. Just wondering..."
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