The Auditor

Act 1, Scene 2

A Moreauverse Novella

The man calling himself The Auditor leaned back in his command chair and kicked one leg up over the arm. “How's the nav plot look?"

Seated slightly below and forward of him, where the imager for the holo comm would not put them in frame, was a tall, lean, heavily furred beast. Conforming largely to a humanoid physiognomy, they were very much not human despite keeping to the two arms, two legs, head and torso of humanity. They also possessed a pronounced tail, far more than the norm for almost any other line of corporate designed genetically enhanced quasi-human animals. That was neatly draped through a vertical slot in the back of its chair to drape itself across the floor. Its fur was a uniform black, an ever so subtle shift in just the right light defining two broad stripes of a different hue of black following its spine. At the moment it only wore a simple pair of dark blue shorts, mostly to keep the seat from chafing the fur of its backside than for any necessary modesty. They were the only life forms on the entire ship and both were intimately aware of, and comfortable with, the nakedness of each other.

“Easy, even with the increased density of sub-meter debris around the outpost." The black furred creature said in a smooth, warm tenor without a hint of the soft growl they shifted to in moments of stress.

Or passion.

“How long until we reach the light-second comm limit?"

“A touch over four hours."

“Hazards?"

“None that the ghost identifies. Even at this speed the inversion field should bounce pretty much everything before it reaches the hull."

“Set auto nav, then. No sense sitting here for hours, waiting. Let that chuvasz stew in his own sweat until then." The man flowed smoothly from his relaxed sprawl to stand and stretch slowly.

“We could slow, buy enough for a good rest." The heavily furred humanoid said quietly, “Go in fresh. And it will still take time to put on your face." The creature's head was distinctly animalistic, with a long, tapered muzzle full of frighteningly sharp teeth. Rounded ears perked toward the human as its lush tail swayed leisurely behind it, long fur draping downward from it in a cascade of black.

The man chuckled and nodded, “Get some leisure time in before act one begins, mmh?"

Bright white teeth gleamed predatorially from the creature's muzzle. “Are you amiss?"

The man laughed and shook his head, “Oh, not at all. Not at all, indeed. What do you propose?"

“Well, I think I would like to drink from something long, strong, and thick." The dark blue eyes, incongruous in its black face, drifted markedly downward. “And then we can go from there."

The man laughed warmly. “You are insatiable." He stepped forward, reaching out to slide one hand along the side of the creature's neck, fisting into the thick fur at its nape and drawing the head forward until their lips met in a heavy kiss. “That's one of the things I like about you." He said after breaking the kiss.

“Just one?" It churred playfully, looking up through its black brows, muzzle drawing back in a coy, toothy smirk as long, plentiful whiskers folded back slightly.

“One of." The man admitted with a nod, giving the glistening black nose pad a peck. “There are others." His free hand dropped and neatly cupped the crotch of the creature's blue clad groin.

The lush tail bushed and lifted slightly as it grunted softly, coy smile widening, revealing more deadly predator's teeth, as its hips rocked forward into the warm grope.

Releasing neck and crotch the human turned and walked around the command seat toward the back of the bridge. A door slid silently aside revealing a much larger room beyond, filling most of the launch's interior.

It was a richly appointed if austerely decorated chamber with a kitchenette to one side nearest the door and a bathing room toward the opposite wall. Unlike their mother ship there was no tub to bathe in, or for other activities, but the shower was not small. Beyond the kitchenette was a desk and, beyond the washroom, a wardrobe and large reclining chair similar to those used in media cosmetics departments. Above it hung an armature, inert at the moment, from which dangled half a dozen dexterous manipulators.

The black furred quasi-human animal caught up after the man had crossed more than four steps into the suite, sliding their arms around him from behind and deftly releasing the tabs of his severe looking uniform jacket. “Let's get this costume off before it gets wrinkled." It said into the man's ear, tickling it with their whiskers. “Or soiled."

The man lifted his arms slightly and let his lover busy themselves with the skills earned early in their life, when they had been a body servitor for a powerful syndic family. The coat and shirt were swiftly removed and carefully hung in the wardrobe while the shorts that had been shed while the man's back was turned were set, neatly folded, on a shelf beneath.

The not-very servile servant returned for the man's pants, which had been shucked while the creature was busying itself with the upper garments, revealing that the human wore nothing beneath. It smiled at the slightly tumescent maleness standing at half mast, their dark hand reaching out to caress it as they retrieved the pants. The human's maleness responded with a twitch and further thickening.

When they turned away to stow the pants the creature's tail was held high, the long waterfall of black fur flicked slightly aside to expose the black furred curves of their rump revealing, also, the fur-softened curves of the sack that was nestled deep in the fur that tail revealing that the animal was quite male. Of course, with all of that fur there was nothing else to see; merely a slightly deeper shadow following the cleft of its - his - ass. The prize at the apex of that shadowed vale was still hidden by the fur at the thick root of his tail.

The man stepped forward and slid his hands into the thick fur of the animal's hips, pressing close to let his awakening erection settle into the warm, inviting cleft of fur over flesh and muscle. Salen churred a soft sigh and hung the pants. “Not where I want that, Johan, love." The black furred creature said though his hips shifted back, further grinding the length of the man's shaft along that inviting cleft. “Now, anyway."

Johan leaned forward and nibbled at the curved tip of one black furred ear. “Mmmhh, I know. You want to taste it, first." Strong hands slid forward around his lover's hips, coming together upon the creature's own all too apparent gender. Where Johan's cock was naked and exposed, the others was secreted in a sheath of short, satin soft fur but the man's slow caress along its length produced a gleaming hint of flesh peeking from its tip.

Dark ears flicked as the quasi-animal turned his head slightly, grinding back and down against Johan's cock before rocking forward into the warm, teasing caress of those fingers along his thickening sheath. “I do, you know I do. I always do."

Johan drew his hands away, to either side of those powerful, fur clad hips, and turned him around to smile down at his paramour, meeting his deep blue eyes and looking into desire widened pupils. “Then why tease me so with that handsome tail upraised, Salen?" He asked teasingly, lowering his head to share a slow, deep kiss.

“Because I can't help it." Salen said when they came up for air, the two males standing body to body, cock grinding against sheathed cock. “That you know, too, Joh."

“If only I had a tail." Johan laughed as he stepped back toward the bed, his hands sliding back and down to cup Salen's warm, furry rump firmly and draw him along. While, genetically, Salen was a dog, heavily modified for his form, upright bearing, and intelligence, he had been made to look like a skunk at the whims of his former masters, now long dead. His normally stark white stripes had been dyed black, except the subtle differences in hue, for this production.

The back of Johan's legs fetched up against the edge of the bed and he sank down, drawing Salen's hips between his knees as he looked down at the dark, argent flesh of the dog-cum-skunk's arousal poking needfully from the flesh and fur of his sheath. Salen's hand came up to touch his brow, pushing his head back before he could lean forward to taste that glistening flesh. “I desire you to not have a tail, Joh, just as you are." He said as he knelt at the edge of the bed, once more looking up at his human lover, meeting his eyes briefly before he, too, directed his attention down.

And his head followed his gaze, dipping between Johan's spread thighs to bury his tapered muzzle firmly against the side of the human's cleanly shaven scrotum as he inhaled deeply of the rich, earthy musk of his lover's arousal. Johan leaned back, one hand on Salen's shoulder, the other stroking back between his ears, and let out a long, shuddering thigh.

Seven years together and still the thrill of Salen's attentions felt as arousing as the first time. No further words were exchanged as Salen's whiskers tickled his inner thighs, his lips caressing his balls with lavish kisses, his tongue stroking the hollows between thigh and scrotum, those dangerously sharp teeth nipping playfully. Centimeter by torturously slow centimeter Salen worked from his balls upward along the now solidly erect length of Johan's aching cock.

When that muzzle, those deadly teeth, and that wondrous tongue finally cupped the head of his cock in their hot embrace Johan felt that he might burst at that moment but managed to hold himself back, if only slightly. He felt the nimble tongue flick against his tip, taking up the salty sweetness of his pre as his cock jumped in the confined cage of tongue, teeth, and palette. His fingers fisted into the fur of Salen's shoulder and nape, but he did not pull nor push; Salen would set his own pace, torturous as it was.

For long minutes the skunk-dog teased and tortured his way down Salen's length, easily accepting all of him into the depths of that wonderfully talented muzzle, until his mind was a delightful fog of pleasure. He gripped the fur behind Salen's shoulders and pulled, firmly but slowly. “Salen, love, c'mere." He croaked as the skunk's cool nose pressed into the hollow of his groin, fully taking him to the root and backing off slowly.

Salen released his cock, letting it drop to his loins before springing back up, eager for more of that hot embrace. “No, Joh." Salen cautioned warmly, stroking his tongue up that shaft from root to tip, drawing away a thick dollop of leaking pre. “You'll have that when I give it to you. I cannot simply let you take it."

“Fucking tease." Johan croaked, then let out a deep, growling gasp when his cock was consumed, completely, once more.

That was Salen's kink, so to speak; he commanded, Johan followed. Where he had once been forced to follow, to obey, to comply with the desires of the humans that had owned him, he had been granted freedom only weeks, if not days, from death. And he had chosen his liberator to follow.

And to lead, to command, in the private intimacies of their bed.

Let the public see Johan as the dominant member of them outside that privacy; they both knew who was in charge within.

Johan bit his lower lip as Salen toyed with him ever closer to the brink, the tingle of that end building through his groin and coloring his thoughts with a fugue of pleasure as his senses were deluged with the sight and mingled smells of Salen enjoying his power and arousal. “Must… I… oh, stars." Johan's hips lifted into the downward dip of Salen's muzzle, the tight construction of the skunk's tongue against the underside of his cock driving him ever closer. “Beg?"

The word was drawn upward into a strained falsetto as Salen's tongue pressed upward firmly against his tip, driving down along his length in a single long, powerful stroke that jerked Salen's slow climb to its precipice and hurtled him over. His balls tightened and the muscles of his abdomen clenched as his cock swelled, stiffened, and jerked powerfully. His release exploded into Salen's half-lifted muzzle, spilling across his tongue in a hot release that sent Johan's mind reeling. Each swallow stroked and massaged the human's twitching cock, coaxing thick heat free with each muscular jerk within the confines of sharp teeth and hot tongue.

Seconds that seemed like hours later Salen lifted his head and softly, leisurely, licked at the tender flesh of the human's spent length. “Will you, Johan my dear? Will you beg?"

“Y- yes." Johan, flopped back full length on the bed and gazing up at the ceiling myopically, breathed as he came down from the euphoric heights. “Have, and will." He did not move when Salen rose up from his crotch, leaning forward to climb slowly upward over Johan's boneless, supine sprawl. Johan felt the slow drag of warm fur across his spent, but still proudly erect, cock. Fur gave way to the warm, firm brush of Salen's half sheathed length, a brief stroke of flesh breaking the caress of fur, followed by the weight of the skunk's heavy balls. Those could produce a surprising amount, Johan knew from considerable experience.

And he vowed to never let even the least drop go to waste.

Salen's sheathed girth and heavy balls pressed his erection against his groin as the skunk's heated gaze bore down upon him. “That is what you beg for, my human, my pet, hmm?" The weight shifted up and down, grinding against him, leaving a warm trickle of the skunk's own pre upon his skin.

“Yes." Johan's hands slid down to the skunk's waist, then hips, grasping and drawing him down more heavily. Salen shifted and continued his slow crawl, leaving a warm trail of dampness from Johan's groin to his stomach to his chest, to his chin.

And then the skunk's own eager pride was hovering above Johan's face, the tapered glisten of his canine girth dripping pre onto his lips and filling his nose with the rich mélange of the skunk shaped dog's arousal. The heavy balls, usually invisible in the thick fur of his loins, brushed Salen's chin with the promise of what they held while the soft caress of Salen's tail brushed against him from chest to knees.

Johan grabbed Salen's hips and pulled, grinding those heavy orbs against his chin, mouth, nose as Salen rose upright to gaze down at his liberator's, partner's, paramour's face gazing up at the spear of his cock standing half released from his sheath leaking pre to dampen the fur. “All yours." Salen moaned softly at the warm grind of the human's face under his balls. He shifted back slightly against the firm grip on his rump, rolling his hips and gliding his sheath across Johan's lips and then chin.

Johan's tongue quested from his mouth, tasting the pre on his lips and the fur that slid across his lips, then the sharper tang of sheath lubed flesh, hard and hot against his tongue.

And then the prize was there, dripping hot wetness upon his lips from the narrow, tapered tip as Salen's hips continued to rock back, drawing it from vertical to horizontal. He lifted his head, cupping his tongue about the skunk-dog's thick, crimson veined flesh. Pre washed across in a short spurt, spattering against the roof of his mouth as he lifted his head and wrapped his lips about it.

Salen grunted deeply and rocked forward, driving himself into Johan's mouth in a single smooth thrust that buried his length in that heat. Johan's lips pushed his sheath back as his mouth was filled with the thick, throbbing girth, driving across his tongue and into the back of his throat as even the nascent knot was powered past his lips, forcing his mouth open even further. His fingers fisted into the fur of Salen's rump, pulling him down as he swallowed the spatters of thin, salty pre that pulsed rapidly from Salen's shaft. It thickened still further even as Salen bodily jerked back against the pull of his hands, freeing his rapidly swelling knot.

That would be far too much for his human's shallow maw, even for Salen's much more capable one. The skunk's teeth would do considerable damage to something as large as his knot, though Johan's thickness fit delightfully between them.

Or had, minutes earlier.

With short, churring chuffs Salen drew back almost completely before dropping his hips to thrust deeply into the eagerly suckling mouth again. His hips bucked with short, powerful, eager thrusts as Johan huffed through his nose and growled with lustful eagerness. His own cock had reawakened, bobbing freely in the draping fur of Salen's tail with each needful thrust as the skunk leaned forward over him and became lost in the need to mate.

Even if he was mating a passage never designed by nature for the firm pounding of a cock, bracketed by blunt teeth rather than the forgiving clench of female passage. Johan's strong, clawless fingers clutched at his rump, dimpling the muscle under his thick fur, urging each thrust with a wonton growl that vibrated through his throbbing cock.

For several minutes the only sounds in the cabin were the skunk-dog's soft, gasping churrs, the human's rumbling growls and nasal rasps of breath, and the slithering hiss of flesh against flesh. Salen felt his balls drawing up rapidly, far moreso than they had for anyone else in the duration of his life before or after servitude. Sure, he had known other males since being emancipated, and even a handful of females though that had never been his greater preference. He and Johan had their singular attachment to one another, but both shared. The human had even been with two of Salen's sisters, within the first few years of their mutual emancipation, but they had not formed the same attachments. The same bond that skunk-shaped dog and human had.

So it was that Salen rocketed toward his peak within a few short, intense moments and let out a rough, churring bark as his hips dropped down solidly and held there, his weight bearing Johan's head firmly down upon the bed. His cock swelled, his knot pressed hard against Johan's lips, the tip of the cock buried against the back of his throat halting the human's breath for a few seconds. Johan did not, had never, and would never complain at that ever so brief asphyxiation knowing what it heralded as he felt the thickening within his all too shallow maw. When Salen's first spasm hit he jerked his hips up, withdrawing half or more of his length in a spastic twitch as his cock poured a sudden hot torrent of seed into Johan's mouth, filling it almost completely within a second.

Johan gulped greedily, fingers clasping at fur and muscle as he swallowed the rapid surge of semen before the second spastic twitch. Salen produced four times or more what the human did, which seemed to only arouse his human lover beyond measure. It also took him three times as long for that first climax to play its course but nothing leaked past the corners of Johan's gaping mouth and tight sealed lips. He drank every drop with thirsty abandon, relaxing the tight embrace of his mouth only as the twitching faded and Salen's cock subsided slightly.

But most certainly not completely. That would take another twenty minutes or more and, Salen knew, Johan would not release him through the dozen or so subsequent minor climaxes that would give him even more of Salen's gift. Each of those would produce a quantity more in line with Johan's own.

Sagging forward Salen carefully shifted himself, turning even as Johan twisted to follow, and settled carefully onto his side, curled around Johan's upper body like a cat, his tail draping across the man's legs. He stroked Johan's hair as the human nestled in close and continued to suckle, though far more gently, upon him like a nursing pup. One of Johan's hands shifted from his rump, up between his thighs, to cup his churning balls and rub gently at the base of his still swollen knot.

Shifting further, slithering around Johan's secure connection to his loins, Salen turned about until the human's rigid length was before his muzzle, lying on Johan's hip as he rolled onto his side. With a slow caress of his tongue he lifted that weighty, thick length and returned it to its proper resting place.

Within his own muzzle.

A soft trill woke Johan some time later and he blinked muzzily into… darkness. Not a darkness caused by the absence of light, but a textured darkness. A darkness that smelled musky and warm, unmistakably male, and ever so Salen. After a moment of assessment he realized that he was lying with his head half on Salen's thigh, one of the skunk's legs cocked slightly over his head pressing the lower half of his sheath and his balls directly against Johan's face, mostly his nose. His gaze was darkened because his opened eyes were merely staring at the cleft of the skunk's ass with his tail occluding the dim cabin lighting.

He chuckled softly at himself and sent his thoughts inward, at the computer interfaces implanted within his brain. “Status?" Salen had identical implants, but had never integrated as seamlessly with it as Johan had.

“One point nine eight light seconds to designated target." Came the emotionless, genderless response somewhere from the rear of his head; the ghost. His computer, connected directly to his brain via complex implants, enabling the computer to 'speak', for lack of any better term besides telepathy, directly to his gray matter. That translated through his neurons to his speech and auditory regions allowing him to perceive the computer. Other aspects allowed visual stimulation as well, though that was not currently in use.

Salen shifted at that moment as well, lifting his head from where it similarly rested on Johan's groin, using his flaccid cock as a pillow. Johan felt a brief peck just below the head of his length before the leg was lifted from his own head and the balls drawn away from his face. The lighting was, thankfully, dim enough not to be blinding. “Time to prep for act one." Johan murmured muzzily, yawning and running his tongue over the roof of his mouth that still tasted powerfully of Salen's release.

A pleasant taste, for all of its musky staleness.

Once Salen had fully disentangled himself, briefly swishing the length of his massive tail across Johan's face, the man shifted his legs over the edge of the bed and used them to lever himself up. He stretched languidly and stumbled for the washroom, Salen close behind him.

They shared the shower in companionable silence, each shifting to help the other with areas they could not reach on their own. And, of course, areas that they could though that did not lead to any distractions other than mumbled, ribald jokes and stolen kisses.

While Salen availed himself of the air assisted sonic drier Johan returned to the main cabin, toweling himself dry, and settled into the makeup chair. “Open communication channel, utilize act one imagery."

“Channel open, awaiting acknowledgment. Acknowledgement received."

“Polaris outpost." Came the reply after a few seconds as the receiving operator established the communication uplink.

“This is the Auditor for your commander." Johan said, though in truth he merely 'thought' toward the ghost, which would parse his desired reply, overlaying the holographic representation of Johan with his costume fully in place. The previous recorded communication had been made in real time, in full costume save for the prosthetics, so that the ghost could overlay the appropriate post processed alterations.

“I'll let him know. He's not yet in his ready room but is en route. Ten minutes, probably less." While more or less professional the operator sounded mildly bored and irritated at the unexpected visit from an Outsider from the Corporate Office.

“He was told to expect my communication once we reached a sub-second communication delay." Johan continued, the ghost adding a touch of irritated inflection to his faux voice.

“He was, yes, but not when you would cross that threshold. I've relayed your request and he should be back in a bit." If the operator had been able to from their end Johan was sure they would have put him on comms hold in the interim if merely to annoy him.

Probably a bad idea if Johan had been the real thing.

“I will wait." He left the channel open. “Begin." He sent to the ghost hiding somewhere indecipherable to the right rear of his proprioception.

The chair rotated toward the mirrored makeup station and raised up as the armature above shifted into motion, its manipulators spreading out like the talons of a raptor sweeping in on unsuspecting prey. Two arms lifted a complex webwork of nanometer scale wires from a faux head on the makeup stand and swept it over his face. Johan felt the subtle tugs as the mesh adhered itself to his skin with microscopic claws. The webwork had several functions, the most coarse of which was to dampen the micro-muscular motions to give his prosthetic face, which was to be overlaid upon it, that expected sense of stiffness that one with considerable fresh scarring would exhibit.

A second mask was procured from another faux head, this one gnarled and wrinkled with those scars which would defeat any sort of facial recognition that would identify him as a long retired media star, whose disappearance had rocked the media industry for over a decade, a porn star before that, and a street level con artists before either. Would that Paragon Matrix truly knew what had happened to their A-list propaganda darling.

The mesh drew at his face as it shifted and captured the overlying faux-flesh and drew it snugly down upon his face, transforming his fair, unblemished skin into that of a horribly scarred, hardened man who looked years older than Johan actually was.

While his face was being transformed his arms, neck, legs, and shoulders were all undergoing similar prosthetic overlays to expand the scarring over most of his right side. Since the injuries were, ostensibly, from severe burns it made sense that there were no hair follicles in the scar tissue. Only the hair on his head remained, though another process imparted streaks of scar-white through the normally brown tresses.

“Commander Jeyev." A new voice came over the comms, relayed internally via the ghost and broadcast into the cabin, at a lower volume, for his ears. It created a strange sort of dual presence that the actor had long grown used to.

“This is the Auditor. I have broached the light second latency and am re-establishing communication. I understand that you have received my earlier transmission?"

“Yeah, we did." The commander said flatly, though Johan could not see the return holo-image that would be hovering over the bridge comms station. “What's this all about? Who are you?"

“This is about an audit, commander, and I am The Auditor. I have been dispatched from the Boardroom to conduct a thorough review of your operations and records. This is not a negotiable or deniable request from the highest levels."

“Why was I not informed?"

Johan's computerized facsimile gave a sardonic twitch of scarred eyebrows at the obtuseness of the man. “That is the nature of an audit, commander. And, had they desired to submit a schedule of the action they would have been unable to do so, as it seems your deep space comms array is non-operational."

“Yeah, it is. It's been down for months."

“If I might inquire, why then did I detect a data burst from that installation shortly after acknowledgment of my previous transmission?"

“You couldn't have, it's down, like I said. Hit by asteroid debris. Whatever you detected was probably a short-range transmission between prospecting drones. Those are pretty high power to cut through the debris field caused by the mine tailings. They also use high energy scans to navigate when they bring in ore."

“As you say." Johan let the coldness of the Auditor persona bleed through as he caught sight of Salen emerging from the shower and making his way toward the makeup center. A second armature emerged from beneath the countertop a short distance away and began its grooming routine to make the chaotic fluff of fur caused by the drying look presentable again. “Have the requested preparations been made?"

“Yeah. We've got a landing berth on the command cap opened and prepped to receive your launch. A cabin in the command levels has been set aside for your use."

“As an office only, commander. That is where I will conduct interviews with command staff after all data analysis has been completed. We will continue to use my vessel for housing during our stay."

“Huh, okay. How long will that take?"

“Difficult to determine at this time, commander. Several days, at the minimum, perhaps longer depending on the size of the data to be compiled against corporate ledgers and subsequent interviews. I will require a full bandwidth data channel made with my vessel where its computational arrays will make reviewing all the more efficient." And, of course, allow the ghost full access to the station's systems at an administrator level.

“Physical?"

“Whichever provides the clearest signal, commander. I understand the geologic nature of the outpost interferes with wireless connection without amplification nodes?"

“It does. The docking facility can provide a physical trunk, as well as power, fuel, and mass, of course."

“That will be satisfactory." Johan's fake holograph head nodded, marginally. “Our current course plot has us reaching the perimeter of your outpost in approximately forty minutes. We will request docking instructions at that time." Without waiting for the commander's reply Johan closed the connection, purposely brusque.

Once the grooming apparatus had finished, rendering Salen's lush black fur smooth, it produced other tools to collect the considerable heap of discarded fur. Salen stepped out of its way, still handsomely unclothed, and began dressing. His wardrobe was nothing more than an austere, unadorned black jumpsuit of severe cut.

It took another fifteen minutes for the costuming armatures to complete their work on Johan before they, too, raised up to their stowage position and went still. The soft hum from an inset cabinet to one side was the only clue that printing had begun for a replacement set of prosthetics. He could not, after all, wear the setup for the days they might need for the production to reach the end credit scroll.

And anywhere throughout one mistake could lead to a rather permanent reel cut.

Salen quietly helped him dress in the severe looking black professional business uniform he had adopted for the scene, the one which the outpost commander had seen in the earlier recording. The skunk worked efficiently and deftly, several years spent as a slave performing the same tasks for the House that commissioned his creation well-honed before he had been thrown at Johan's feet coming into play. And, of course, the subsequent seven at his side through numerous 'productions' similar to the one that had liberated the skunk and almost fourteen thousand other genetically modified labor animals.

Moreaus, they were called, after some work of fiction written centuries before either of them existed. He had not been bred naturally, as most modern liberated moreaus, and many corporate ones, were. He had been grown in a gestation tank and decanted when he was almost an adult by conventional measurements, a process that took less than a year from the first cell culture of his germination. He had never been a child, had known no childhood, the knowledge and skills to serve his House hard coded into him during the gestation period.

He had also been encoded with the ability to learn with amazing speed and allowed him to adapt to his new life with alacrity, as had all of his lineage. Only Salen had chosen to partner with Johan, however, learning skills that would compliment the human's abilities and several more as well. He had also undergone surgical processes that connected him to the ghost in the same way.

After helping Johan don the uniform he assisted with the final sections of the costume; an unwieldy looking powered leg brace to compensate for 'injuries' associated with his scars and a cane to facilitate walking. Both were, of course, simply more props though they did have numerous other functions to support other needs.

Standing and testing the brace, which made appropriately awkward sounding mechanical hisses and squeals as it flexed, Johan nodded. “Let's get the stage set, my protege, and begin act one." They both made their way back to the bridge and assumed their seats; Johan in the command chair and Salen at the control panel that ran everything else.

He was hardly needed there, though, since the prodigious computer power of the ship itself could do everything more accurately and swiftly than even the most enhanced moreau. That technology was decades, if not centuries, more advanced than anything the outpost could field, or even most of the local political entities. They were coming from considerably further afield, from somewhere well beyond the political aura of the Yucatan Alliance, jurisdiction, or even official knowledge. Only the Grand Orion Soviet had some inkling, being the closest polity, but they were most certainly not sharing.

The outpost asteroid loomed ever larger in the forward image screen, an oblong remnant of a world long deceased. It was one of trillions of asteroids that ringed the system's orange dwarf star, one of the largest stable enough for long-term excavation. Over sixty kilometers in length and twenty at its widest girth, it rotated on its long axis like a pencil left to spin on a desk. The center of rotation was not at its center, either, being about ten kilometers toward what the ghost had identified as the command node at one end. At the opposite end a cloud of debris spewed, leaving a spiraling tail of processing waste as the innards of the asteroid were consumed.

Like worms in a gourd, massive boring machines ate their way slowly outward from the central gravitational point, separating the exceedingly volatile explosives precursor for purification. Research had indicated that it was all done using sonic devices which vibrated the harder strata from the softer mineral which was then further bombarded until it reached a purity sufficient for fabrication into ingots and eventual transportation out of the system.

Its location and function were a highly guarded secret within the Corporation, so tightly held that not even the Alliance Government knew of its location, though it was well within their borders, far from conflict zones. A dense nebula rich with metals ions rendered scanning all but impossible so the only way to locate it was to, quite literally, stumble upon it which was how it had first been discovered.

But such information always found a way of leaking, or being released, which was how it was brought to Johan's attention. He was not here for the ore, however; he had come for something he found far more valuable.

There were no lights on the outside of the slowly spinning mountain in space, no indication that anything was within save for the spiral of debris slowly fanning outward from the discharge adit. Nevertheless Johan's ship detected considerable energy sources within; fusion reactors and the huge boring machines they powered.

“Polaris outpost, this is the Stateroom on final." He used his true voice, this time, rather than the ghost's facsimile. “Requesting approach vectors and landing guidance."

“Got you, Stateroom, transferring now. Assisted or manual?" A wide spiral of lines appeared on the view, approaching the command node in ever tighter circles to match the asteroid's slow rotation. The ship automatically slid into the approach lane and set the indicated speed which was much slower and far more roundabout than Johan would have preferred. Either a purposeful delaying tactic or simple poor navigation plotting by the traffic control officer.

“Manual. Free to amend?"

The person on the other end of the channel sighed a bit and grunted, “Whatever you want, buddy, just shut down your thrusters before crossing one thousand kilometers. The dust still has trace amounts of material that'll go up like dynamite the instant it goes through your radiants. It gets thick enough to daisychain and none of us want that sort of fireworks this close to home."

“Copy inertial approach within one thousand. Plot acknowledged and amended, seven minutes forty-three seconds to indicated bay aperture." He cut the channel. “Threat assessment?"

“Minimal." the ghost replied flatly. “This vessel does not use thermal variance thrust and energy radiants are offline. Reactor temperatures will remain well below emission threshold."

“Maneuver using mass discharge jets." Johan advised quietly as he watched the slow rotation growing rapidly larger ahead. “No need to let on we're using a G-drive." That was advanced technology for the inner systems, though not unheard of, but standard where Johan operated from. In essence their drive used a gravity bubble to 'fall' in any direction it required.

“Confirmed. Utilizing ejection mass thrust." Essentially super-heated water released through thruster ports along the ship's hull to redirect their inertia. Inefficient but serviceable; it made them turn like a foundering boat.

The landing bay proved to be inset deep within a natural crevasse on the asteroid's surface, the lighting within directed in a way that did not reveal its location until directly in line with the bay. The floor of the bay was inverted, momentarily, from their approach, toward the cap of the asteroid rather than its center. With a smooth roll the ship aligned itself and coasted along a short, illuminated path into the bay.

As soon as they passed the threshold beacons the lights winked out, plunging the approach path into darkness through which not even stars were visible. Lighting was limited to the pad designated for the ship, leaving what lay beyond in darkness save for the external sensors. Those painted false images of other ships, most of them large, blocky prospecting drones resting on the massive arms used to secure material for transport.

A few, further away, looked to be small, angular combat ships. Their hull configurations were designed solely for space, with stubby wings supporting hardpoints for missile racks and an open port where canons would normally be mounted beneath their blunt noses. None would be a threat to Johan's ship had they been fully armed, not even in numbers, but for others who might threaten the outpost they would prove formidable. In their current state of partial disassembly they would be a threat to no one.

Their ship rotated toward the hangar entry while it settled to the bay floor with little more than a subtle creak as its landing systems took on weight. To one side of the bridge a door hissed, equalizing the airlock beyond to the pressure of the landing bay, and then opened. They stepped into the lock, allowing the inner door to seal and the outer to open with a sharper hiss as their atmosphere mingled with that of the station which was bracingly cold but not unbearably so. Two forms stood just beyond the painted lines that delineated the safe area and waited soundlessly as Johan limped down the descending ramp. Salen fell in just behind and to his right, adopting a wary but subservient posture.

“You the Auditor?"