Fanfic

fanfic - Join the Navy, See the Worlds

"Join the Navy, See the Worlds"

by Anita Neal

Arlene Sanders was trying to get to sleep. Her thoughts drifted lazily, like objects in zero gee. Midshipman, f'rinstance. Why midshipman? Why not midshipwoman? Midship-person? Hnnn... Lieutenant. That's what I really want. But not enough ship time. Gotta get back on a ship. She turned over in her bunk. Nicky got a ship. Off interstellar. Vega or Hope Nation or somewhere. If he's lucky he might even be a looey by the time he gets back. That's the secret, ship time. Interstellar time. Out of Lunapolis and back on a ship. She drifted again. At least Admiralty middies are still in a wardroom. That much at least was familiar.

She turned over again. Can't get to sleep without the others snoring. She snorted to herself. Well, you were the one who chose to get an early night while the others went out. Can't have it both ways. And they needed some time out without their senior peering over their collective shoulder... The hatch opened, briefly silhouetting the tall, rather plump figure of Grant Taylor, and then closed quietly. He tiptoed across the floor toward his bunk. Arlene considered saying something, maybe asking him why he was back so early, but decided to keep her mouth shut. She hadn't been in this wardroom all that long. At the ripe old age of eighteen she kept finding herself riding herd on the other five middies just a little too closely.

Grant began changing out of his uniform by the faint light of the heating control panel. Surreptitiously Arlene watched him. There was something subtly wrong here... his movements were stiff, mechanical. He got into his bunk and lay there on his back, not moving. His breathing was deep and completely even. Wrong, wrong, wrong. She sighed to herself. Grant was lying in the dark crying. Lord God knew, Arlene had heard the small non-sounds of bunkies weeping in the dark many, many times. But Grant, babyish though his features might be, was nearly seventeen, had almost two years' seniority as middy and had left those bitter days behind long ago. She sighed again and tried to put exactly the right tone of friendly inquiry into her voice.

"Hey Grant. What's the trouble?" There was a brief pause.

"No trouble, Ms Sanders." Well, what did you expect?

She sat up and turned on the light. "You're back early and you're lying in your bunk crying like a plebe. I know you're no sniveller. Something's wrong and I'd like to know, Grant." She lightened her tone. "Aw, c'mon. I'm asking nicely."

The silence stretched. Arlene waited. If you wait long enough, they'll start talking just to break the silence. At last Grant cracked.

"There was this woman." He was blushing furiously, examining the floor.

"We met in a bar. She... she asked me to..."

"Come back to her place?" supplied Arlene. I think I've heard this story before...

"Yes." A long silence. "And then..."

Arlene inhaled carefully to help keep her voice completely steady. "And then she humiliated you."

Reluctantly. "Yes."

"And her name is Lynette."

Grant's tearstained face jerked up. "How did you know?"

Rage was beginning to flood her. Arlene's fists clenched. "Let's just say I've come across her handiwork before. You should know, Grant, that she's a member of a group calling itself the Molesters. This is what they do. They specialise in the sexual humiliation of young men and women. This particular bitch seems to prey especially on Naval midshipmen. I hope that makes you feel a little better."

Grant nodded slowly. He made to turn the light out again, but a thought suddenly struck Arlene. Better than a thought. A Plan. She stopped him with a gesture.

"Grant? You know that old saying, 'don't get mad, get even'? I've just had an idea that I think will help you feel a lot better..."

Half an hour later Grant and Arlene were dressed and strolling down a corridor three levels down, in the heart of Lunapolis' warrens.

"So what's your idea, Ms Sanders?" Grant seemed to have relaxed noticeably, though he was still very subdued compared to his normal self.

"I've been wondering off and on whether there was anything I could do about this woman for quite a while." Since my first middy leave, actually. "But I've been on a ship most of that time. Reporting her to the authorities is a no-go, if the sex is consensual what can they charge her with - being a nasty person? I thought of presenting her with a ticket somewhere - Mars or Ganymede or something. But what's to prevent her just setting up shop somewhere else? I'd really like to get her out of the system entirely, but who can afford a ticket interstellar? But then it struck me - the Navy'll take anyone..."

Grant's grin started slowly, then took over his entire face. "Oooh, I like that."

"There's even a sort of poetic justice, don't you think? She certainly won't be preying on middies any more. If we can pull it off."

"So how...?"

"I think I can persuade her that staying here is a bad idea. If I can rattle her badly enough we can take her to the twenty-four-hour recruiting station up on Level One and she'll find herself signed up before she knows where she is. But you have to deliver her to me."

"I thought you knew her."

"Only by reputation." Arlene grimaced. "I have no idea what she looks like or where to find her. Another small obstacle to getting to her." She stopped, and turned to face Grant. "The thing is, Grant, I wouldn't mind betting that at least some of their victims end up as Molesters themselves. I bet some personalities find themselves going back for more. Do you think you could pose as someone like that? Just long enough to get her off her guard and following you down a dark corridor somewhere. Then you pull a fade and leave the rest to me."

Grant took a good long time to consider that. At last he nodded slowly. "Yes, Ms Sanders. I think I can do that. But on just one condition."

"Yes?"

"I want to watch."

"I think that can be arranged, Midshipman." Arlene's smile was wolfish.

Lynette was nursing her drink and ignoring the dirty looks the barman was beginning to throw her. The drink was a prop, of course, but if she didn't buy something else soon he would start to think she was a whore and call the police. Ordinarily that would be fair enough, since that was what she was, but tonight she wasn't working. Tonight was strictly for zarks. So she was pleasantly surprised when a young man in a blue uniform slid onto the stool beside her.

"Lynette?"

"Oh, ah, Grant. It's you." She shifted uneasily, but the boy seemed almost cowed. An anxious smile played about his lips.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Lynette smiled graciously in return. "Why certainly, Midshipman."

"Umm, I just wanted to apologise. For what happened earlier." Was he reddening? Hard to tell in this light. He took a deep breath. "Lynette, I want you to give me another chance. Please."

Lord God, what a prize! Only rarely, once every couple of years if she was lucky, did one of these losers come crawling back for more.

"Oh Grant, I don't think so. You just weren't ready." Come to me, my little lamb. Come and let Lynette eat you up...

"No, honestly Lynette, I know I can make it this time..." he whispered urgently, darting an anxious glance at the barkeep.

"Well..." she pretended to consider.

"Please." Abject misery in the boy's eyes.

"Only if you'll give me your Yall," she said lightly. In the dim light she missed the fractional tightening of his lips before his eyes lit with doglike devotion.

"Oh, thank God. Oh Lynette, I won't let you down, I promise!"

She reached out and stroked his cheek. "Well, let's go then, shall we honey?"

Hand in hand they strolled from the bar.

Arlene waited by the door to a public toilet down a side corridor. The light was none too good, since she and Grant had taken the precaution of removing a couple of lighting panels. She saw the two figures come around the corner. Grant's voice drifted down the corridor.

"Sorry Lynette. I've just got to take a leak. There's a head down here..."

As they reached the door Arlene detached herself from the shadows and in one smooth motion slammed Lynette up against the wall. A forearm across Lynette's throat immobilised her and silenced her in one movement.

"Hello Lynette," said Arlene conversationally. "I've been wanting to meet you for quite some time." Lynette's eyes flicked over to Grant, but found no reassurance there. Gone was the puppylike devotion. His eyes were completely cold. She tried to struggle, but Arlene increased the pressure a little and she gave up.

"I was quite impressed when I realised what you were doing," Arlene continued in the same pleasant voice. "I mean, some boy spaces himself on the Vega run, another gets cut down from a ventilation grille somewhere out beyond Miningcamp, a third quietly sees out his hitch and then juices himself to hell, someone else is driven into the rebalancing ward. These things happen. No pattern, nothing to connect them to you. You only prey on middies, preferably green ones. The newly-promoted, about to ship out. Except you made a mistake and picked on two boys who happen to be friends of mine. A connection, you see? The game's up now, Lynette. The Navy looks after its own. You're going to stop."

She relaxed her hold on Lynette's throat a little.

"You think your precious officers give a fraz about what I do in my spare time?" Lynette spat back. "I know a thing or two about some of them. I'm safe here, you bitch. You can't touch me."

"Oh no?" Arlene's voice hardened. "So what am I doing now, hmmm?" She leaned hard on Lynette's throat. The woman turned purple. Arlene eased up. Shaking and spluttering, Lynette glared at her.

"You know, Lynette, I've just been thinking. What say I send Mr Taylor back to the wardroom and we make this a girls' night out. You see, although I'd like to send you far, far away where you can never harm anyone again, it might be more fun if I just dissed you instead. See, I can leave you beaten to a pulp in a corner somewhere or dumped Outside and there'd be nothing to connect me to you. I mean, here I am, clean young middy, fine record, no motive. They'd never think to P and D me. Any bruises I pick up, even, say, a broken hand, the officers just wonder to themselves who was dumb enough to pick a fight with me. Grant's safely tucked up in our wardroom while you're very slowly dying, no way they could charge him. No charge, no P and D. We just keep our mouths shut until it all blows over. Perfect solution."

Grant was staring at her in shocked fascination.

"You wouldn't." Lynette choked the words out.

Arlene favoured her with a smile. "Oh wouldn't I? Don't bet on it." Her voice sank to a singsong croon. "Fact is, honey, I'm faster and younger and tougher and meaner than you. I could really, really hurt you, Lynette." Her smile became almost tender, her voice sank to a whisper. "Oh, Lynette, I do so want to hurt you..."

There was real fear in Lynette's eyes as she twisted desperately and ineffectually in Arlene's grip.

Grant licked his lips nervously. "Ummm, this is going way too far..."

Arlene sighed. Regretfully she eyed Lynette and her tone became brisk. "Well, there is always the other solution. Have you ever thought of signing up with the UNNS, Lynette? It's not a bad life, the pay's good and there's that six-month bounty when you volunteer."

"What?"

"Mmm, yes, the idea grows on me. You'd gain useful skills, broaden your horizons - you know what they say, join the Navy, see the worlds!" This last was delivered in the hearty tones of a recruiting holo. Lynette's eyes widened from sheer shock at the change of pace.

"Come on, Lynette. The choice is yours. Grant and I can walk you up to the recruiting office on Level One and wait outside until you sign up. Or I can send Grant off and we can continue this discussion somewhere more private. You know, I really don't care which you choose, but you better make up your mind fast."

Lynette stood limply. She searched Arlene's face and found only a cold and implacable loathing.

The recruiting office was brightly lit, its windows inhabited by a gaudy montage of recruiting holos. Earnest cadets, cheerful middies, competent-looking ratings went through their motions in a continuous loop. Lynette's steps slowed as they approached, Arlene's hand oh so casually cupped around her elbow while Grant held her other hand with every sign of affection.

"Well, here we are, hon," Arlene trilled. Lynette glared and made to shake off Arlene's hand. Arlene did not oblige. Her fingers suddenly stabbed as she smiled and nudged Lynette and leaned in close, as though sharing a joke.

"Just listen to me, you bitch. Don't think you can walk in there and then just leave by the back door. This is a Navy town and by God I'll find you. You think the officers run this place? It's the ratings and the P.O.s and the middies like me. Once the word goes round that I'm looking for you there'll be nowhere to hide. So you just go in there and plant your thumb on that dotted line, honey, or believe me I'll see how many bones I can break before you pass out and then dump you out an airlock. Got it?" With a contemptuous little flick of the fingers she released Lynette's arm; Lynette reciprocated with a look of fear and rage and started towards the recruiting station. As she opened the glass door a dapper, greying petty officer emerged from an inner room. He smiled a sharklike professional smile; the door closed behind Lynette and Arlene breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh good, it's Sign-'em-up Simpson. She'll never get away now. I swear that man could recruit a six-month-old corpse and make the contract stick. Let's go home now, Grant."

On their way back to the wardroom Grant glanced anxiously across at Arlene. Her face was serene in the diffuse light of the corridor. She caught his eye and smiled wryly.

"Well, Midshipman. Tell me your worries."

Grant hesitated. Nervously he asked "Did you mean that? Threatening to kill her? Wanting to hurt her?"

"What, you're not wasting your pity on that piece of trash?"

"No." Grant hesitated again, and then burst out. "You really scared me, Ms Sanders. I never thought you were like that."

Arlene thought for a long moment. "You want an honest answer? I'm not sure how much I meant. Mostly, it was an act. I had to convince her that she'd fallen into the hands of a worse sadist than she was herself. I didn't see how anything less was going to panic her enough to get her into the recruiting office. But if she'd called my bluff?" She paused again. "Thing is, when you see some outcome you want, you have to do what's necessary to make that outcome happen. Know what I mean? And then take responsibility for the consequences. That's what they taught us at Academy. Killing her in cold blood? I'm not sure. I'm glad I never have to find out."

Grant wasn't at all sure he liked that answer. They walked on in silence.

Disclaimer: The characters and world of the Seafort Saga are owned by David Feintuch. Everything about the Seafortverse belongs to David Feintuch, and we wouldn't dream of taking anything away from him. This is all done in the name of fans having fun and no profits of any sort are to be gained from fan-fic by anyone except, or by permission of, David Feintuch. If David Feintuch should read the fan-fic and reuse any fan-fic in any way then that is prefectly OK. All copyrights for the fan-fic published here belong to David Feintuch regardless of who writes the stories.

fanfic - Join the Navy, See the Worlds