BattleMaster (The BattleMaster Corps Book 1) Page 2

  Stanner nodded.

  “Heard you guys found yourselves in a world of hurt.”

  “You could say that.” Stanner looked down. “Not all of us made it back.”

  Olsen cleared his throat. “Who you with?”

  “Corporal Rob Kilroy, Third Company.”

  Olsen’s eyes looked past him and widened. A smile crossed his face. “Look, it’s your girlfriend.”

  Stanner and Rob turned. The gorgeous redheaded BattleMaster from the hill was walking toward the special dining room reserved for them. Her white casual uniform top had the thunderbolt emblem of the BattleMaster Corps over her left breast. She moved with a kind of grace, an arrogance, really. She acted like everyone in the mess hall was beneath her, probably because they were.

  Stanner scuffed. “Yeah, sure she is. I think she likes her machines more than real men.”

  Rob chuckled. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” He ran a hand through his blonde hair. “I take it you boys don’t have a lot of experience with BattleMasters.”

  Stanner shook his head. “Just what I’ve read and my little chat with her last night.”

  “Well, there are a few details they leave out of the media reports.”

  “Like what?” Olsen leaned in.

  “Testosterone.”

  “Huh?”

  Rob turned back to the center of the table. “It might take a woman’s mind to coordinate a team of drones, but for most of them, they’re not aggressive enough to wield ‘em like the offensive weapons they’re meant to be.” He shrugged. “So they take testosterone to sharpen their edge. It’s not enough to make them start growing hair on their chests, but there are other side effects.” He arched an eyebrow.

  Stanner nodded. “I guess that would explain her attitude.”

  “Oh, no.” Rob waved off the comment. “She’s a natural ice queen. The treatments just encourages her to show it.”

  ***

  Lieutenant Stephanie Butler jumped to her feet on reflex when Captain Reba Chandler entered the private dining area. Her chair squeaked across the floor of the nearly deserted room. A strand of her brunette hair fell down the center of her face and she left it there.

  The captain was known for her fiery temper, a reputation punctuated by her red hair. Stephanie’s performance with the aerial drones during the battle had been less than stellar. It wasn’t protocol to stand at attention in the dining room, but she felt stuck now since she had.

  The sudden movement froze Reba at the door. She crossed her arms and dragged her eyes across Stephanie. An emotionless expression betrayed no hint as to her thoughts. She walked to the beverage dispenser, not saying a word, keeping her subordinate at attention.

  “Coffee, black, extra hot.”

  A soft clank echoed as the cup fell into place and a stream of steaming black liquid flowed in. Reba took the cup and brought it to her nose to savor the aroma.

  Stephanie’s mouth was dry as cotton. She prayed her voice wouldn’t crack if she had to speak.

  Reba lowered the steaming cup from her lips without taking a drink. “You know, lieutenant, I had my reservations about accepting you into the Second Company’s BattleMaster detachment. Do you know why?”

  Stephanie cleared her throat and licked her lips. “No, sir.”

  “No, I imagine you wouldn’t. After all, you were the top of your class. You probably thought you were hot shit coming out of the Advanced Tactics and Strategy course with the highest scores in the last five years.” Reba paced, sipping her drink. “Bet that’s why your call sign is Hotshot. But guess what, Lieutenant Hotshot. Your test scores mean less than zero out here.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  Reba stopped mid-step, mid-sip, and looked directly at Stephanie. “I seriously doubt you do. If you did, you wouldn’t’ve requested assignment to this company. This isn’t some second tier unit protecting supply lines. This regiment sees more action than any other in the division.

  “We took the hill last night, but the Euros were without their own armor. A couple of Goliaths and we’d have likely lost because you wasted strength on that bombing run.

  “They’ll reinforce and try to retake it soon. If not them, the Chinese might make a deep push. I need veteran BattleMasters, not nervous ninnies who get most of their bots knocked out in the first pass.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you have any idea how lucky you were? We would’ve needed those bots if the fight had been harder. You’re damn lucky those idiot slug-throwing apes in the infantry powered through it with my support. We are the only Masters in this company. We are the ones who determine victory or defeat.”

  “It won’t happen again, sir.” Beads of sweat rolled down Stephanie’s forehead.

  “It had better not.” Reba flipped her hand forward. “Relax. We typically keep things casual in here. I don’t need you screwing up one of the only places I can unwind because you’re jumpy.”

  Stephanie released her muscles but remained standing.

  “Sit down, lieutenant.” Reba kicked out a chair for herself. “You’re making me nervous.”

  “Sorry, sir. It’s just…” Stephanie twisted her lips. “I feel anxious and can’t seem to snap out of it.”

  A sly grin crossed Reba’s cheeks. “When was the last time you got laid, lieutenant?”

  Her jaw dropped. “Um, what?”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “Um.”

  Reba raised a hand and laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not offering. You’ve still got pent-up nervous energy from the fight and your meds have revved up your engine.” She jerked her head toward the door. “Go ahead and pick out an ape to help you burn it off.”

  Stephanie’s eyes darted side to side. “What?”

  “Sex, lieutenant. I’m telling you, you need to have sex. It’s the only thing that’s gonna help.”

  “Isn’t that against regs, sir? I mean, we’re officers and they’re in our regiment, right?”

  “We’re BattleMasters, queens of modern warfare.” Reba grinned. “We have our own set of rules. Besides, they’re a bunch of dumb men who should be happy to get a chance to please one of us.”

  “And if they aren’t?”

  Reba shrugged. “Who cares? They do as they’re told, and if anyone is stupid enough to complain, the brass looks the other way. They’re grunts, lead-throwing apes. A dime a dozen. One goes down, just replace it with a fresh one.

  “We’re the ones who will win this thing for the folks back home on Liberty. Think of it as a perk we’re afforded. And if it weren’t for the meds, we wouldn’t be so hard up in the first place. It’s what we do. It’s a widely-known secret people choose not to talk about.”

  Reba rose and waved her over to the door. Clanking tableware and a hundred conversations flooded into the private room. She jerked her head at the mass of males. “Go ahead and pick one that tickles your fancy.”

  Stephanie fidgeted. They’re soldiers. They fight in the trenches and will do anything for victory. They deserve more respect than that. Damn, I am horny, though. I think I can hold out until I find someone I know is interested in me. I need to say something to satisfy Chandler. Play to her aggressive nature. “I don’t know, captain. I’m not comfortable with just picking a plaything out of a crowd. It takes some of the fun out of it for me. I like the hunt. You know, pick a target in the wild and conquer it.”

  Reba smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I do that, too. Find an unsuspecting grunt all alone, going about his day. Then I tease him and make him my bitch. I’m in the mood for an easy kill today, though. No screwing around.” She scanned the hall and pointed. “There, that ape gave me lip after the fight. Even tried putting one of his dirty hands on my bot.”

  Stephanie followed her finger to a soldier with jet-black hair. He talked with two others. He’s cute. Looks young. “Who is he?”

  Reba tapped her temple. “Just pulled up his file. Private Michael Stanner, twenty-one years o
ld and from New Portland.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “It’s a shitty little college town.” Reba licked her lips. “Yeah, I think I’m going to teach him a lesson in domination. I can’t let him think we’re on the same level. That’s how these apes get ideas.”

  “You really don’t like them, do you, sir?”

  “Oh, no.” Reba shook her head. “That’s not it at all, lieutenant. I just know what men are good for. Fucking and stopping bullets.”

  Stephanie forced out a chuckle. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “I should get going. I’ve sent our friend a message to meet me in my office.” Reba winked and walked away.

  Stephanie sighed. Great choice, Stephanie. You really know how to pick ‘em. Can’t believe I requested and fought for this posting.

  ***

  “See you guys around.” Rob rose and waved good-bye.

  “Later.” Stanner glanced down to read the flashing message on his wrist computer. The color rushed from his face.

  Olsen met his eyes when they rose from the tiny screen. “What’s up? One of our wounded not make it?”

  “I’ve been ordered to report to Captain Chandler’s officer?”

  “Who?”

  “BattleMaster Chandler.”

  “Oh...crap. What do you think she wants? Oh, man, you are in trouble.” Olsen stabbed his fork at him. “I told you not to touch that drone. You probably broke it and they’re gonna bust you down.”

  “Relax, I didn’t break anything and I’m only a private. What the hell are they going to bust me down to?”

  “They’ll think of something. Trust me, things can always get worse. Maybe they’ll send you back to basic.”

  Stanner grimaced. “Shit. She did hate me, didn’t she?”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Stanner threw his hands in the air. “Go see her. What the hell else can I do? Not like I can just ignore a direct order.”

  “Oh, man, this isn’t good. You’d better get going. You don’t want to make her wait. I’ll take care of your tray. Just go.”

  “Yeah,” Stanner sighed. “I guess you’re right. Damn it.”

  Stanner jumped to his feet and jogged until he reached the captain’s hallway. He walked slowly down the hall with his head turned to read the numbers. She’s in one-seventy-two. Oh, there it is.

  He rapped his middle knuckle against the wood door to make a soft thud.

  “Come in.”

  Stanner entered but was stopped in his tracks by the sight of a man behind a desk. “Uh…”

  “Is there something I can help you with, private?”

  “Um. Ah.” Stanner glanced around the room but saw no other doors. “I was ordered to report to Captain Chandler. Is this room one-seventy-two?”

  “Wrong room, son. This is one-twenty-seven.”

  Stanner’s face turned bright red. “Oh, sorry to bother you, sir.” He got out of there as fast as he could, his heart racing. There it was on the number plate, one-twenty-seven. Damn it, I hate when I do that.

  He made his way further down the hall. “One - seven - two,” Stanner read the numbers aloud to himself. He sucked in a breath and knocked.

  How am I going to talk myself out of this shitstorm? Who am I kidding? She’s a hard-ass. Nothing I say will get me out of this. I’ll just have to wade through it.

  “Enter.”

  Stepping into the lioness’ den, he found Reba behind her desk, hands folded on the glossy top. A portrait of her in revealing black clothes standing in the turret of an antique tank hung behind her. His stare shifted between her and the painting for several seconds before settling on her.

  She tried to maintain a neutral expression, but the look in her eyes sent a chill up his spine.

  He went as straight as a rail. “Private Stanner reporting as ordered, sir.”

  “Do you know why I’ve called you here, private?”

  “No, sir.” He assumed it had to do with their meeting, but he’d done nothing wrong and wouldn’t play along with her power-trip.

  “I think you do.” She leaned back. “You, private need to learn your place and I know just how to teach you. Come around my desk.”

  “Sir?”

  She narrowed her gaze and pointed at the floor next to her. “Come around my desk and don’t make me repeat myself again, private.”

  What the hell? Sweat streamed down his face. This felt creepy. Wrong.

  He dragged his feet forward. She rolled away from her desk and swirled the chair to face him. An evil grin warped her lips. His eyes bulged out. Reba’s black pants were folded neatly on the floor. She was naked from the waist down.

  Her thighs parted. “Get on your knees.”

  Stanner’s eyes shifted toward the door. I could run.

  “Don’t even think about it.” She wagged her finger. “Now, get on your knees. The rest should be obvious, even to you.”

  Heart pounding, mouth bone-dry, he couldn’t form the thought to go backward or forward.

  She sighed and stood, grabbing a handful of his hair. “Either you’re dumber than I thought, a virgin or gay. Whatever your problem is, I don’t care.”

  The roots on the back of his head strained as she sat down, pulling his face into position between her legs. “Do it.”

  He did.

  Fortunately, Stanner had experience in the oral arts. Her body responded with heavy breaths and moans. He shuddered to think what she’d do if he was bad. She pushed him harder into her. Getting enough air became a struggle.

  Her hips convulsed as a groan slipped out from between her lips. The pressure on his face disappeared, allowing him to gulp in oxygen like a near-drowning victim breaking the surface.

  Face flushed, her chest heaved up and down. “Well...done, private. Now, pull your pants down and lay on the floor.”

  He did as told. The fact that he was erect for her use made him feel ashamed. He didn’t want to have sex with her, but biology is biology.

  She glanced at his manhood. “That’ll do.” Straddling him, she took hold of his throat and lowered herself into position. “Don’t you dare finish before I give you permission. Understand?”

  He nodded.

  Stanner lay motionless on the cold hard floor as she rode him. Her nails dug increasingly deeper into his neck as her pleasure increased.

  Time lost meaning. Her body rocked against his until it shook and a gust of air burst out of her lungs.

  She bucked violently. “Go now.”

  It felt good but he didn’t want to orgasm. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of believing her sex pleased him.

  A flick of her fingers drove their tips into his neck. “Finish.”

  Giving into the most basic elements of his nature, he followed her command. It felt amazing. It was disgusting.

  Hopping off him, she put on her pants.

  He remained still, ashamed and humiliated.

  “Pull your pants up and get out.” She sat at her desk, turning her back to him.

  Head held low, his hand touched the door when her voice hit him like cold water.

  “And private, if you know what’s good for you, you won’t mention this to anyone. Ever. Cheer up. You did good and I’m sure I’ll be calling for you again. Just remember your place.”

  A tear rolled down his cheek. “Yes, sir.”

  The door closed behind him. A full body shiver struck him, drawing odd looks from passersby. He shallowed his shattered pride and soldiered on.

  Chapter Three

  General Kyle Mendez’s hard-soled shoes hit the polished white stone floor with a clank that echoed down the empty hall. There were never many people down here. Planetary Commander, PC for short, General Samantha Pendergast had sectioned her office off from the rest of the HQ staff. In-person interactions were a rarity since her metamorphosis.

  He stopped at her door. “Mendez, Kyle, major general, one-four-six-nine-bravo, reporting.”

  A wide ban
d of red light shone in his eyes. “Identity confirmed.”

  The door slid open.

  He entered and waited in a small room until Pendergast let him into her inner sanctum. The walls were covered in screens displaying data so fast his eyes couldn’t catch it. They lit the room in a depressing glow.

  Bent over her command station, she didn’t bother looking up at him. In fact, her eyes weren’t even open. He knew she could see him, though. A camera somewhere was feeding his image to a window open in her mind’s eye, one small window among several.

  Samantha did everything that way now. The cable plugged into the back of her shaved skull was a blunt reminder of how much she’d changed.

  Seeing her like this made his heart ache. Kyle preferred to remember her as the woman he fell in love with so many years ago. Before the BattleMaster program choose her as one of its first recruits and, in his opinion, mutilated her body and mind.

  Samantha had been a kind, outgoing young woman, once. Now she was cold, impersonal and almost never left her bunker. Raw data pumped directly into her brain meant more to her than any actual human interaction. She was an extremely efficient commander, but he felt she’d lost a major part of her humanity and that scared him.

  “Good morning, Kyle.” It was her voice but it emanated from a speaker. “It is nice to see you.”

  He sighed. “Please, Samantha, talk to me with your real voice. And look at me, if it’s not too uncomfortable.”

  She licked her chapped lips and revealed her brown eyes. He needed to see her eyes. Through them, he could still see her human soul. It brought a smile to his face.

  “Sorry. I get so used to living in a digital world I sometimes forget where the real one starts.”

  He cocked his head. “When was the last time you went to the surface?”

  She opened her mouth but then shut it tight and shook her head. “No, Kyle. I am not going to do this with you. I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”

  “That long, huh? You really need to be more careful with yourself. Everyone has a limit, even you. You need more R&R or else you won’t be fresh when the next major crisis hits.”

  “I get plenty of rest, mother.” She cracked a smile.