Even if he had contemplated shooting him earlier. After all, what’s a flesh wound between old pals?
***
If Tiger had only known what Jocko had been doing, at that time, on his PDC, he would have truly regretted the silly notion he’d had earlier about popping his old buddy. Tiger was a man of action when it came to being quick with his Spacehawk or to stand up to some asshole who needed to be put in his place. He could fly circles around almost any other pilot out in the Black. But there were other ways of taking action when the time called for it, and Jocko was once more coming through on his end.
***
Some quarter-million miles away, in the old, domed city of Luna Seven, a woman read his text and smiled. Luna Seven was one of the original colonies from the early pioneer days of the Moon’s settlement. It was also one of only three of those initial settlements still standing, originally built almost fifty years ago as a barebones modular pod settlement. As more modern and spacious domes had been built over the years, most industrial and research facilities had migrated to them for the expansion potential. Most of the colonists employed with these industries followed suit.
Over time, “Lucky Seven,” or simply “L7”, as most of its inhabitants referred to it, became something of a Bohemian community, as an eclectic mix of people slowly filled the void left behind by the metalworkers, miners, and pharmaceutical lab people. Artists set up small shops. Painters hung portraits in storefront studios. Artisans made and sold handmade crafts and souvenirs sculpted from moon rock and glass to the endless stream of tourists from Earth. Niche restaurants and bars opened up, serving unique dishes and spirits. If you strayed a few blocks off the beaten path, you might find more “colorful” entertainment, in the form of “companion” clubs. Or if you prefer more “pow!” for your point, the houses of ill repute were some of the finest this side of Mars.
The woman sat at a large console in a tower overlooking the city. With full-length, floor-to-ceiling windows on all four walls, she had a spectacular view not only of L7, but also of the panoramic moonscape as well. In the infant years of the colony, the tower had served as a control center for the high-speed mag-lev rail systems that were built for travel between the domes. She had converted it into an ultra-chic loft apartment and workspace.
Probably in her mid-thirties, she had dark shoulder-length hair with a texture that suggested Hispanic descent. However, it would be difficult to gauge, as her skin had been infused with the green “Moon Maiden” pigment that had been such a fad among the female lunar colonists back in the day. It had been a way to distinguish themselves from their Terran and Martian cousins, a source of colonial identity and pride. After the Lunar Uprisings, the Authority had banned the practice, calling it “inflammatory and subversive.” All Moon Maidens at this point were “grandmothered” in by receiving a tattoo showing they’d received the treatment pre-ban. Any woman caught green afterwards without the tattoo looked at some serious prison time, not to mention some very painful bleaching treatments.
The altered skin pigment only added an exotic element to an already beautiful woman. Her eyes matched her skin, vividly emerald in color, with gold-like flecks in them that gave off a brilliant sparkle when she smiled. Her nose was small and pug and her mouth displayed strong, white teeth behind lips that were just a slightly darker shade of green than the rest of her skin. She had the high cheekbones and strong chin indicative of a refined bloodline. Her body was that of an athletic woman who was only now starting to show just a slight tinge of aging. In her prime, she’d probably been ten pounds lighter, but she still stopped traffic and turned heads when she walked down Tranquility Boulevard in her favorite pair of Daisy Dukes and Luccheses. A short, form-fitting “sock” dress accented the curves of her body, pulled up over her breasts just enough to cover her nipples and just down far enough to keep her bare ass off the cold cloned leather of her office chair.
Her eyes sparkled golden again as she completed typing something into the console and allowed herself a smile of self-satisfaction as she watched the resulting operation carried out. Once she was certain it was finished, she pulled up the dialog box in which she’d been conversing with Jocko.
“Done!” she spoke into her mic. “The sky above you just got a little darker, my friend!”
TYVM! His reply took a few minutes due to the distance. I owe you … as usual.
She smiled again, a slightly naughty one as she replied, “Come see me and we’ll settle up!”
Just might do that!
She squirmed slightly in her seat, as lusty thoughts raced through her head, imagining the things Jocko had told her earlier.
She licked her lips, as her pulse quickened. “Bring your friends … they sound so … stimulating.”
***
“What do you mean we just lost the satellite feed?” Frost asked Cee Tee, as they sat in the command craft waiting on the head ZiP to arrive on the scene. He was calm. Too calm. Cee Tee hated it when he was that calm.
“Well, actually, we didn’t lose it, sir,” he replied, afraid to look up from his monitor.
Frost threw his head back and rubbed his eyes wearily. “It’s been a long night, Tee …”
“Yessir, I
