Chapter 8 – Gifts From the Sky

Thule's day was shorter than Earth's, but because everyone lived in domed settlements, the colonists kept to Earth time. As a result, on this Saturday morning Thule's star was dipping below the horizon.

This Parade was special, even for a Promotion Parade. To Samantha's astonishment, she was advanced in grade to Decurion – the youngest in the Confederacy. To her amusement, she still outranked her father – promoted to Sergeant-Major and made Company Sergeant-Major of the First Company, 1204^th Armoured. The Old Man was now officially Brigadier General Michael Deschenes, commander of the 12^th Division, which consisted now of the 121^st, 122^nd and 123^rd Brigades. Plenty of other officers and NCO's found themselves promoted as well. Sergeant-Major Blondell was now the Divisional Sergeant-Major, and when he returned from extraction duty, Kowalski would take her place as the 121^st Brigade Sergeant-Major. Each brigade would consist of a third of the original 12^th Brigade, and receive a third of the draft coming in next month.

Unfortunately, that would mean that the core of the 123^rd would not even be on Thule. They were off garrisoning Hesperus.

Cadet Sergeant Daniel Bachelor marched smartly away from the just-concluded ceremony and toward the trio of people standing at the side of the parade square, near the cenotaph lined with an ever-changing list of names of those who had paid the ultimate price for survival of the species. He hoped to take the younger of the two naked females there to lunch, with the permission of the uniformed male standing with them.

"Sergeant Bachelor!” came a call from behind him. Inwardly he groaned, but he halted, yelled “SIR!”, and gave an about-face to discover that the unknown individual was newly-promoted Colonel Charles Desrochers, newly appointed commanding officer of the 121^st Brigade.

"I just got the call that the CSS Sir Francis Drake has some cargo for us. Seeing as that ship is assigned to the Targeted Extractions Task Group, that means the cargo is likely organic, and probably either a sponsor or concubine.”

"Sir?” Danny couldn't see how anything regarding Targeted Extractions could involve him.

"They specifically requested you and your father attend the offloading.”

"Sir, yes, Sir.” So much for that luncheon with Miss Deschenes.

"The General is going to be there as well, if you're interested in escorting his daughter to the Nexus Room.”

Danny didn't need to be bashed over the head by a clue-by-four. Saluting Colonel Desrochers, he quickened his pace toward the trio at the edge of the parade square. Through the Bluetooth-like headpiece that all Cadets had been recently issued, he contacted his father to find that Batch was already on his way over with one of his two concubines and would meet the young man in the Nexus Room.

A few paces later found Danny saluting the august form of the Old Man himself. “Sir, I understand we are both to report to the Nexus Room as soon as possible?”

"Oh, they'll wait for me,” Michael advised amusedly. “Still, we don't want to keep them waiting too long, do we?”

"Sir, no Sir.” Danny paused before asking the critical question. “Permission to escort your daughter to the Nexus Room?” A trickle of sweat began to make its way down his spine.

Michael regarded his daughter as if contemplating the question. The naked preteen crossed her arms and glared at her father. “Stop teasing!” Diana growled.

"Civilians,” he snorted, turning to Danny. “If she's amenable.”

"She's amenable,” Diana replied for Danny, her voice dangerously even.

Swallowing a chuckle, Danny extended his left elbow. Diana tucked her hand under his arm.

Penny did the same with Michael, and the two couples walked arm-in-arm to the Nexus Room in the Headquarters Building.

When the Deschenes party arrived, the Nexus Room held, besides the duty corporal and a private learning the ropes, Batch and one of his two concubines, two other red-coated figures who Danny recognized as having commanded the Primary Defence Line and the Shackleton Defence Line, the two cadets' fathers plus a single concubine escort apiece, medical corpsman Corporal Sheena James and Decurion Redburn. The only females in the room wearing anything, Danny noted, were Decurion Redburn, the corpsman and the duty corporal – all three of whom were also the only female members of the Armed Forces of the Confederacy in the room.

The nexus controller had been talking to her young assistant, and turned to Samantha. “How do you pronounce the name of your home town?” she challenged the teen.

"The way it's spelt. 'Barrie',” replied a mystified Samantha.

"Oh... I thought you were from Ontario's capital. How do you pronounce that?”

“The way it's spelt, too,” advised Samantha, still unsure as to where the conversation was going. “'Tronna'.”

"The way it's spelt...” pondered an amused private. “Funny spelling you Canucks have.”

Samantha reddened as she realized her Ontario accent had betrayed her.

At that point, the board before them beeped.

"The Captain of the CSS Sir Francis Drake is requesting permission to land passengers, Sir,” reported the duty corporal to the General.

"Permission granted. The Captain is invited to join us for a visit, if he so chooses.”

"Aye aye, Sir.” She touched buttons on the control in front of her, and a second later a tall black man dressed in the uniform of a Fleet Auxiliary Commander emerged from the nexus.

"Captain Mark Danielson reporting, Sir.” He saluted the General, not as sharp as a marine would have but smartly enough, and handed the corporal a chip bearing the ship's manifest.

"Welcome to Thule, Captain Danielson,” Michael responded, returning the salute. “I understand you bring goodies courtesy of the Office of Targeted Extractions?”

"Yes, Sir, and I trust you'll find these to your liking.”

"As long as they aren't more damned rabbits.”

The look on the Captain's face grew a trifle uncertain. “All humans, Sir.” He turned to Samantha. “Ah, Decurion Redburn? I've been told we had to do a bit of work to find your gift, but she's something the entire planet can appreciate.”

"Oh, goody,” Samantha exclaimed happily, clapping her hands in girlish delight. “She's a slut!”

With that, the Captain turned to the nexus operator. “The first of our little gifts, please.”

First out of the nexus was a brunette in a wheelchair-like hover chair, escorted by a Fleet Auxiliary corporal whose uniform bore a caduceus. Both Bachelors, pere and fils, recognized the shift-clad woman immediately.

"Aunt Teresa!” Danny called, amazed. He'd seen some wondrous things from Confederacy medical technology, but still this was amazing. His aunt, paralysed from the neck down and bedridden since he was four, was not only breathing on her own, but sitting up too.

"She'll need another night in a med tube before she's completely recovered, and the nanites will need her to consume a high-protein diet for another three or four days so that they can continue their magic, but she's well on her way toward walking,” the Fleet Auxiliary corpsman pushing her chair advised. He handed over a chip to Sheena with Teresa's medical records. “She can actually walk now for a few steps with someone steadying her, but she has absolutely no sense of balance yet, and we weren't able to give her enough time in a med tube to restore muscle tone properly. K'Treel Explorer ships aren't colony ships, and as a result we don't have a large number of med tubes on board this trip. Plus we shipped here at flank speed, which limited both the power to the med tubes and the time we could throw at her case.”

Sheena nodded and took over operation of the hover chair.

Teresa gave her brother-in-law and nephew a dubious look – each had an attractive and quite naked female clutching his arm. Batch himself was almost unrecognizable, thanks to his Marine-standard enhanced body which made him look over a decade younger than she remembered, and even Danny looked far more mature with his red tunic and matte-white swagger stick – smaller than his father's pace stick, but still impressive. “Roger?” the formerly paralysed woman asked dubiously.

"It's me,” Batch assured her gently. “Tuned up, with the dents bashed out and the paint job buffed to a high gloss, but it's still me.” He smiled at her affectionately. “I missed you. How is everything back home?”

"It was rough. There was only Mom and Dad, and they're getting so on in years. And the nursing home staff, of course.”

"I didn't know you had a CAP card, Teresa,” Batch said, grasping for something to say.

"I didn't,” she responded to his surprise. “In the middle of the night, this sub-decurion from the Office of Targeted Extractions took me to orbit, where they gave me a screening. They took all the patients and even all the staff at the facility, got four or five volunteers out of the deal. My CAP's a 4.2, and they tell me my mothering scores are great, and the average can only go up.”

With that, her visage turned fearful. “Is it true what they say of concubines, that we're just sex slaves?”

Batch took her by the hand. “If you get the right sponsor, it can be more than marriage. Much more.” He nodded to the comely young lady at his side. “Ask Anne, here. She's carrying my next son. I won't give her up for anything, and she knows I'll fight to the death to protect her. I love both my concubines, and I'm willing to bring you in as my third. I love them both, but neither have any experience as mothers. Will you be my concubine? You'll finally get those kids you always wanted, and lots of them.”

"Will I get more to wear than that?” she asked, pointing to Diana and Anne.

"No, and after a few hours in the med tube, you won't want to – you'll want to show off your beautiful new body.” Batch grinned at her.

"I will?” Teresa sounded dubious. “Well, to be with Danny and Susan again, and with the promise of even more kids on top of that....” She bit her lip nervously. “I hope my sister can forgive me, for taking her man.”

"First,” Batch pointed out, “she's been gone for years. Second, out here women share men. If she were still alive, she'd have to share me to start with, even if it didn't include you.”

Teresa pondered, but realized this was the best offer she was likely to have. “I accept. I'll be your concubine.”

"Recorded,” broke in the voice of the AI, to Teresa's astonishment. “Teresa Swift is now the registered concubine of Corporal Roger Bachelor.”

While Batch was hooking up with his formerly paralysed former sister-in-law, Samantha was receiving her present – a short blond-haired woman in her late 30's, with two equally blond daughters in tow. Unlike their crop-haired mother, each daughter wore her hair in a long ponytail. The elder matched her mother's busty chest measurements and the younger showed promise of being just as stacked. Mother and older daughter nervously clutched the hem of the concubine shifts they wore. From their movement, it was obvious to any observer that neither wore a bra, and Samantha was certain from how they pulled on their shifts that they were likely “regimental” as well. The younger daughter wore a pair of tight jean shorts, a belly shirt and a look of apprehension – although she didn't need one much yet, it was quickly apparent from her chest's movement that she was as braless as her mother and elder sibling.

Captain Danielson was in full “gentleman” mode. “Decurion Redburn, it is my distinct pleasure to introduce unassigned Fille du Roi concubine Mrs. Melodie Wilson, 37 and CAP score of 5.3, and her delightful daughters, fellow Fille du Roi concubine Miss Candace Wilson, 15 and CAP score of 5.1, and dependant Miss Clarisse Wilson, who because she is 12 is unscored as yet.” He turned to the Wilson trio and addressed the matriarch. “This is the individual I was telling you about, the one you need to convince to sponsor you.”

Samantha waved at them in a friendly manner, and cocked her head inquisitively. This held the potential to be interesting, very interesting indeed. “Call me Sam,” she offered in as friendly and disarmingly a manner as she could.

"Well, ah, Sam,” Melodie gulped, her nervousness making her stutter, “I'm Mel, and, ah, I am the mother of these two beautiful girls, and I am, or rather I was, a, ah, goalie coach.”

Samantha's eyes flashed in ill-concealed delight. “Well, well, well. Goalie coach, eh?” She flashed Danielson a look of happiness and triumph. “AI, please show Mrs. Melodie Wilson my dependant Allison in action. Her first practise, please.”

The wall opposite the two women showed a video of five-year-old Allison in her cute white-on-pink goalie gear, doing her best imitation of a tree being felled.

"Oh, my,” Melodie muttered.

"You're still a goalie coach. Meet your first trainee.” Samantha then lowered her voice and whispered in the older woman's ear. “Do you like sex, too?”

Melodie found herself growing moist as Samantha's fingers found her sex. “I... yes...” she panted.

Samantha continued to work the woman into a sexual frenzy. “There's lots more to come. Want me for your sponsor?” she breathed, licking Melodie's earlobe as Candace and Clarisse turned bright pink with embarrassment. Their mother was too far gone to be embarrassed; she was too far gone to realize her daughters were still in the room. Without the slightest sign of protest from the panting hockey coach, Samantha gently pulled her concubine shift over her head, leaving her completely nude.

"Well? Do you, Melodie Wilson, consent to being Samantha Redburn's concubine?” Samantha asked remorselessly as her busy fingers continued to play with Melodie's quim.

"Yes... I consent... to being... Samantha... Red... Redburn's... con... concubine.... Can I... cum now?” Melodie panted.

"Sure. Here, let me help you.” And with that, Samantha ran her tongue from the woman's ear down her neck and on to her crotch, taking some time to enjoy both nipples and her belly button on the way. Melodie was quickly screaming in orgasm, her knees buckling. Her daughters were left boggling at the sight of Samantha, dressed in her full-dress greys with wedge cap, simultaneously performing cunnilingus on Melodie and helping the woman settle into a convenient chair.

"Recorded,” Melodie barely registered the AI as saying. “Melodie Wilson is now the bound concubine of Decurion Samantha Redburn.”

The two Marines manning the transporter controls stared transfixed by the delightful scene.

Samantha then looked at Melodie's two daughters. “You're drooling, dear,” she advised Candace, using a handkerchief to pretend to dab at the corner of the older teen's mouth. “Are you interested in joining your mother as my concubine?”

Melodie started. “She's still a girl!” she protested to her new sponsor, still somewhat glassy-eyed as she waved vaguely in Candace's general direction. Clearly she hadn't a clue that Samantha herself wasn't yet fifteen. The uniform, and especially the officer's rank, had confused her as to how young Samantha Redburn really was.

"She's an adult, by well over a year,” Samantha contradicted. “In the Diaspora, she should have one kid by now, and if not already pregnant again, be putting the heat on her chef to put a second bun in the oven.” She sighed. “It's different out here, I know. The standards of behaviour are opposite to what you're used to. You'll adapt to it.” 'Adapt or die,' Samantha mentally added fatalistically.

"What about Clarisse?” asked Candace, concerned.

"She was your mother's dependant, that makes her my dependant.” Samantha glanced at Melodie and pointed at Clarisse. “Don't worry. She can watch.”

"Watch? Oh, she was watching when I...” Melodie made frantic hand gestures indicating she was referring to the just-concluded lesbian love scene, whilst using those self-same hands to try to cover her nudity.

"Being less than two metres away, probably.” Samantha patted Melodie's elbow reassuringly. “Exciting, isn't it, being watched?” Her grin grew as she watched her newest concubine's face turn a delightful shade of pink.

"I'm sorry,” Melodie apologized to her daughters, on the verge of tears. “You must think your mother is a horrible slut.”

"Yes, you shouldn't think that,” agreed Samantha, to Melodie's temporary gratitude. “She's a wonderful slut!” Melodie's face froze with shock at the approving tone of Samantha's voice. “We like that in a concubine. Now Candace,” she added, turning her attention to the elder Wilson daughter.

"'Candy', please?” begged Candace.

"OK, Candy. If you're going to be my concubine, you're overdressed.”

Candace looked at her naked mother and still-dressed little sister, gulped, grabbed the hem of her shift and in one move pulled it over her head. She put one hand on her hip and tried her best sultry and seductive look on the grey-clad goddess in front of her. She then sauntered over, exaggerating the roll of her hips, and gave Samantha a red-hot French kiss. Her hand snaked down and began rubbing Samantha's clitoris and labia through her uniform trousers.

As several voices went “Wow!” around the couple, a breathless Samantha panted aloud to the AI, “Samantha Redburn... offers a... contract of... concubinage to... Candace 'Candy' Wilson. Whew!”

"Yes, I accept,” Candace purred as she started nibbling on Samantha's earlobe.

"Recorded. Candace Wilson is now the bound concubine of Decurion Samantha Redburn.”

"Oh, you're going to be lots of fun,” predicted Samantha. “However, for now, we need to grab some lunch and then your mother needs to get started on her new second job.”

"Making babies?” Clarisse guessed.

"Training goalies,” Samantha corrected. “Her first job is making babies.”