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Hatchette Ch. 01

By: Ducheau



1. Dick and Jane

Roku was late for class again. Her heels echoed as they clicked down the cavernous corridor that connected the school's central cloister with the Social Studies classrooms. She should be running, but knew she'd twist an ankle if she attempted it. Stupid fucking shoes... The two inch heels served no purpose but to stick her ass out from under the ridiculously short pleated skirt of her uniform. She couldn't reach over for as much as a pen without flashing her panties at the whole world. But Roku guessed that was the whole point – the tight cotton shirt hugging snuggly to her breasts, the white knee-high socks contrasting into the black of her fuck-me pumps – the Matrons were a bunch of fucking perverts, all the way up the chain-of-command. Even the bureaucrat, hidden away in a small office somewhere in the capital, must have been masturbating frantically when she conceived of the school uniform dress code. Just the thought of every pubescent girl in the world showing off their ass – you could just see her fingers buried up to the second knuckle, deep in the wet warmness of her Jane...

...Thinking like that wasn't getting Roku to class any faster. 

She took the next corner too fast and her feet gave out underneath her on the marble floor. An ankle buckled and her arms shot out to balance her. Her history textbook went flying, along with her leather folio. Shit! She cursed to herself. She'd better be careful with that. The folio contained her tablet and stylus, as one might expect, but it also doubled as a secret holster for her burner – the small plasma handgun she'd, as a Hatchette, been issued. If that thing went off at school... Well, her cover would be blown for sure. Eighteen year old girls don't carry around energy weapons, and her mission would be over before it even started if anyone found out she'd been surreptitiously recruited as a Hatchette. 

Gathering up her things, she hopped the last few meters to the door of her history class. She sucked in a deep breath and turned the handle of the door. She hadn't made it one step into the room before Matron sent the black, heavy battery pack flying. This was the normal punishment for tardiness: A spare battery pack for a tablet thrown, full force, by the Matron at the offending party's head. There'd be more punishment later, of course, but the blow to the head was supposed to instantly punctuate the Matron's displeasure. Roku could have caught the battery pack... Even taken by surprise, the door still only half open, she could have reached out and caught the black block in the air – all Hatchette's reflexes were artificially enhanced and augmented – but she let the battery smack her in the left temple. She was late, she knew she was late, and she'd have to take her punishment. Now and later.

"Late again, Roku?" The Matron asked, not expecting and answer. The other girls, already in their seats, tittered like the school girls they were. 

"Sorry, Matron." Roku replied, trying to sound contrite. Roku held her hand to her head in an attempt to make it look like the blow had caused her pain. It hadn't. Her body registered the injury, that was all. Pain was irrelevant to Roku. 

"Pick it up." The Matron ordered, and Roku knew that this was the second part of her punishment. She bent forward and reached out to where the battery had landed. She had the top three buttons of her shirt undone, as all the girls did. It was the style and an unofficial part of the dress code. She knew the Matron was now getting a good solid look down her cleavage, the smooth flesh of her C-cup breasts pushing out of her shirt. Roku looked up to see the Matron smiling. The pervert! The hint of a tongue emerged and licked the bright scarlet of the Matron's lips. Roku stood up and walked the short distance across the classroom to the Matron, letting her heels click on the stone. 

"See me after class, Roku." The Matron said, taking the battery pack. Roku turned and skulked away, but she could feel the Matron's eyes burning into her rear. She found a seat in the front row.

The Matrons were supposed to be chaste – they belonged to an ascetic order – but they treated the schools as little more than their own personal harems. Punishments, as Roku knew, were usually sexual – pain an pleasure all wrapped in one. 

All the Matrons were insane, Roku thought, draped from shoulder-to-toe in their long block robes, a tight corset worn on the outside to give their middle-aged frames shape; with white pancake makeup apply generously to their faces, giving them the appearance of some sort of crazed kabuki actresses. They were rapers of teenage girls, pure and simple, but the Order gave their acts an air of godliness. But the Hatchettes didn't exist to punish the Matrons – no, that wasn't Roku mission. The Hatchettes existed to hunt down and destroy a much worse form of predator. The most evil predator of all: Men.

"As I was saying before I was interrupted:" The Matron continued, shooting Roku a glance that was half disapproval, half lust. "The Dick and Jane Wars were the seminal events that created our civilization, and this semester, we will be studying each of the wars in great detail."

Roku pulled her tablet out of her folio and turned it on. The Matron's lecture notes appeared on the screen.

"As strange as it may seem to all you young girls." She said with a tone that only a middle-aged deviant could obtain. "There used to be two sexes of humankind: Male and female. But at the end of the last century, after countless generations of subjugation, the female sex rebelled.

"There were six wars in all – but that is misleading... Though we distinguish between the separate wars, they were all part of the same struggle: The liberation of womankind, the end of male hegemony, and birth of our Great Society." The Matron paused to let her rhetoric settle into the ears and impressionable minds. "Now, if you'll navigate your tablets to entry fifty six, we can begin this lecture with a discussion of how technological advancements in ex-utero fertilization led to..."

And Roku switched off her brain.

The Matron went on to describe how the creation of the birthing centers had given womankind the ability to control its fertilization without relying on the male of the species for genetic material – how men had used this detail of human biology to always oppress the female – and how once this biological link between the sexes was broken, relationships between men and women degraded quickly into open warfare. 

Those were the Dick and Jane Wars. Roku had studied it all in Hatchette training. The real history, though, not the propaganda that the Matron's peddled straight from the Commissariat. 

The Janes eventually won, driving the last of the male species off the planet. They still existed, of course: The men, on other planets in the solar system – colonies and moon bases and so on. But the earth, for a hundred years, had been Dick free. It had been the birth of the Great Society. Freedom for all Janes. The end of male oppression. But the Dicks had not taken their defeat lightly. No, they were determined to return from the cold blackness of space, and retake their place, once again, as the self-appointed masters of the earth. All that stood between womankind and a return to subjugation was the collective will of all women. The collective will, and the Commissariat...

The Men had assaulted the orbital defenses a number of times, but always they were sent back into the blackness, defeated. So they had begun to connive and attempt to assault the earth from within. They send spies. Terrorists. Male terrorists, yes, but converted. Pumped full of estrogen, breasts augmented, they came to the earth as transsexuals, able to hide amongst the Janes and move around freely. The early spies had been easy to catch – poor imitations of women – but their techniques had become more refined. The Dicks had succeeded in pulling off some high profile attacks. Attacks on governments installations. The threat had begun to panic the population. This was the genesis of the Hatchette Project: Recruiting young girls into the ranks. Spies for the spies. Counter spies. Thousands – millions all over the planet, seeking out the Dicks wherever they could be found.

The bell signaled the end of the hour.

As the classroom began to clear of girls, Roku contemplated slipping out. But she knew it'd just be worse the next time if she skirted her punishment. Now was as good a time as any. The Matron had another class soon. What heights of perversion could she reach in the ten minutes between classes? Roku shuddered to think. But Roku's next class was Calisthenics, and she hated to be late. Calisthenics was hell, but meant showers afterward, and showers meant The Mosh. Roku hated the idea of being late for The Mosh... But now was as good a time as any, she kept telling herself. The Matron had another class, too.

Roku skulked up to the Matron's desk, behind which the Matron was sitting, tapping at a tablet.

"Late again, Roku?" The Matron said, not looking up from the tablet. 

"Yes, Matron. I'm sorry, Matron. I fell. In the hall, and twisted-"

"You're getting to be quite a pretty girl, Roku." The Matron interrupted. Roku clutched her folio closer to her breast. Oh, if only the Matron was a Dick... If only... Roku could pull out her burner and this would be over...

"Yes, yes Matron." Roku said weakly. But she was right, the last year had treated Roku very well. The Hatchette genetic augmentation had packed muscle onto Roku's frame, and she was a good five centimeters taller than she had been at seventeen. Her breasts were round and full and needed no support to stand up against her shirt. She had taken to cropping her straight black hair off at the shoulder so as not to get caught in combat, and her pretty girlish features had started to turn womanly. Yes, she was starting to become quite a pretty girl, as the Matron said, but she had also become extremely deadly. The Matron didn't know this about Roku, though Roku ached to show her just exactly how deadly she had become...

"So many, many, pretty, naughty girls..." The Matron looked up from her tablet and smiled a lizard smile. The caked white face make up made her look ancient. Ancient and evil. "Three lashes." She added, suddenly stern.

"But-" Roku began to protest, but knew she'd just make things worse. Matron was already raising from her seat and pulling out her leather strap from a desk draw. Roku knew the drill, she put her books down onto the Matron's desk and leaned forward, pushing her firm buttocks out from under her short skirt.

"Will you be late for class again?" The Matron asked, circling the desk. She pulled Roku's skirt up and slipped a hand down the back of Roku's white cotton panties. The Matron's hand squeezed each cheek of Roku's ass, then explored down the back of her thighs. 

"No, Matron..." Roku allowed, trying to sound afraid. She was hanging on with her fingers to the edge of the Matron's desk, her head hanging down between her arms. She knew she wouldn't feel the spanking, her training had taught her to ignore pain, but she needed to sound scared – humiliated. The Matron had to get her pleasure out of this, or she might start to get suspicious.

The Matron pulled Roku's panties down to her ankles, and dropped to her knees as she did so, bringing her face inches away from Roku's bare behind. The Matron lingered there, holding the panties down, looking up into the black hair of Roku's Jane. Roku arched her back slightly and bent a little in the knees. That should give her a good look, Roku thought. Roku couldn't see, but she suspected the Matron was positively lapping her lips, looking up into the pinkness of Roku's labia. Roku began to feel a warmness growing inside herself, too... Maybe this wouldn't be so back after all. It was a turn-on to have that old pervert looking up and sniffing at her ass. If nothing else, it'd get her fired up for The Mosh later.

Then the first lash came. Sharp and searing across her rump. Roku hadn't see the Matron raise to her feet. The power of the blow buckled Roku at the knees. Roku faked a whimper of pain and stayed squatted down beside the desk – all the better for the Matron.

"Up! Get up!" The Matron ordered. A hand came down a pulled Roku up by the thigh, back into the spanking position. The second lash came, but Roku had her knees locked now. "Will you be late for class again?" The Matron asked one more time. You could almost hear the glee in her voice.

"No, no Matron! I promise!" Roku laid it on good and thick. "No more, please! I've learned my lesson, I swear!" You had to beg, that was all part of it for the Matron's. They had to know you'd do anything they wanted. Anything to put and end to the lashings.

"That's a good girl..." The Matron hissed. A hand caressed the welts on Roku's ass. It explored the firmness of her cheeks, then sneaked down between her legs. A finger slipped between the lips of her Jane, into her wetness. It found her clitoris and rubbed it. Oh, that felt good... An old, disgusting pervert the Matron might be, but who knows their way around a Jane better than a old pervert? The finger dug its way deeper inside of Roku, to be met with a friend and pushed hard against the vagina wall.

Oh... Just when Roku thought she could cum, the fingers were quickly removed and the strap came down across Roku's buttocks with full force. Bitch! Roku, thought. The Bitch knows exactly what she was doing. Pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain. If there had been time, no other class, The Matron would have had Roku eating out her Jane just for the chance to cum. Roku would be begging for it... And She'd do it, too: Eat out her desiccated cunt just to have those fingers back inside her for a few more seconds.... 

...Just think about The Mosh, Roku had to tell herself to calm down. The Mosh was less than an hour away...

"I hope you'll think about this the next time you dawdle before class..." The Matron said, composing herself. More students would be arrive any second, she couldn't enjoy herself violating Roku anymore. Roku felt sorry for whatever girl made the tiniest of errors in the Matron's next class. That was the last class of the day, and the Matron would have all the time in the world to release her tensions when that class finished. Yes, the next girl would get it good and proper from the Matron. A lot more than three lashes on the ass...

Roku pulled up her panties and picked up her books. Without a word, she headed for the door. She knew she was supposed to feel humiliated – that was what the Matron wanted to see, so Roku played the role. But she didn't feel humiliated. The Matron had actually manged to turn her on. Maybe Roku didn't feel sorry for the next girl... Maybe she wanted to come back after the next class and force that old bitch to make her climax... But that was no good. That was the Hatchette training talking. She wasn't humiliated because she couldn't be humiliated. She was a Hatchette now. She'd do whatever, fuck whoever was required to complete her mission – to maintain her cover. She was above simple humiliation – she was a weapon of the Great Society. But she wasn't above sex... The bottom line. The Matron had finger fucked her and she wanted to cum, but she couldn't without acting in a way that no eighteen year old girl should. She had to look like a sad puppy and slink out of the door. 

Oh well, Roku would just have to take care of herself in The Mosh. After all, that was what The Mosh was for. She'd have to run her five miles, but then it'd be back to the locker room, and into the showers. The showers meant The Mosh. 

And the Mosh was absolutely the best thing in the world...

Hatchette Ch. 02



2. The Mosh

Roku was only two minutes late for Calisthenics. In the locker room, she slunk out of her uniform and underwear and pulled on her gray flannel shorts and shirt. She made it out to the edge of the school grounds before the Gym Matron had finished giving the other girls their instructions, but the laces of her running shoes were still untied, and she was squatting down tying them when the Gym Matron gave the order to go.

Roku was a hundred meters behind the last girl by the time she got going. It didn't matter. Today, it was a ten kilometer run across the low country beyond the school grounds. Roku had twice the stamina, and three times the strength of any other girl. It was more an effort not come in first than it was to not come in last. They had fifty minutes to cover ten kilometers. By the end, the other girls would be devastated, soaked in sweat, and good for nothing but The Mosh, but Roku would just be warming up. 

Fucking Matron, Roku thought, her mind beginning to wander as she found her stride. Now that the warmness had died down inside her, the tepid spanking and the perfunctory molestation began to anger her again. How dare she think that Roku was just something that could be played with like a toy – prey for a Matron's pent-up desires? The worst of it was that the girls were supposed to look up to the Matron's as examples; as pure females, married to the State; as high-minded martyrs who'd sacrificed their sexual needs for the betterment of all. 

It was hypocritical bullshit! 

The Matron's we hardly even teachers. They regurgitated the propaganda of the Commissariat like it was fact. And then to indulge their every carnal desire with the young bodies entrusted to their care... Roku wished the Hatchettes were tasked with the clean up of the Order of Matrons, now that would be something... To have those bitches on their knees, skirts up, with their asses in the air... A leather lash in Roku's hands...

Roku was in the the middle of the pack now. Other girls were beginning the lag, the sweat outline their nipples through their shirts. Roku had to throttle herself back, resist the urge to push out ahead of the pack. Running a two minute kilometer would definitely draw attention. The Gym Matron was less of a fool that the other Matron's. Roku almost had a soft sport for her. She was a big, butch wall of a woman, almost shaped like the images of men from the vidcasts. When Roku had been younger, and had first learned of the male threat, she had worried that the Gym Matron was one of those men. But Roku had seen her in the showers a number of times. No penis, nothing of the sort. She was a normal Jane under her clothes, and she seemed less inclined than the other Matron's to think of the students as her property. She watched the girls change, yes, and Roku had met her a number of times in The Mosh, but there was nothing wrong with that – that was consensual. It was the forcing sex on young girls, that Roku despised.

Roku was at the halfway mark: A large oak tree on the edge of the Obar Estate. If it wasn't for The Mosh, it was hardly worth turning around. Roku would be back to the Estate within the hour. She had a position as a maid in the Manor, and her shift started promptly after school. The job wasn't her idea, but it was normal for the girls from the school to take part-time jobs for extra money on the nearby estates. The job had been Lt. Zee's idea. Lt. Zee was Roku's Hatchette handler – her direct superior. She had ordered Roku to take a job on the Obar Estate. To keep her eyes open. What Lt. Zee suspected, she hadn't elaborated on, but Roku had done as she was ordered. There could only be one reason to place a Hatchette on the maid staff of the Estate – only one reason the Commissariat would need an agent on the inside: Men. Roku had worked there just over a month and found no incriminating evidence, but it was still early days. If there were Dicks in the Obar Mansion, Roku would find them. Find them and burn them out.

Passing click five, Roku began to sweat. She was all on her own now, all the other girls had fallen behind. There was no way not to return first, unless Roku faked some sort of injury, and Roku was in no mood for that. She let he feet fly underneath her – really pouring on the speed. It felt good to get an actual workout – really work her muscles. Her time wouldn't be that amazing, the Gym Matron wouldn't suspect. She crested the low hill that was the last climb of the course, and sprint the last five hundred meters back onto the school grounds. She paused before the door of the Gymnasium and let herself catch her breath. She looked down and could now see her nipples clinging to her shirt through the sweat. That was a good workout, Roku thought, but she could see her nipples hard and erect underneath the thin gray shirt. Not good enough, Roku told herself. The run had done nothing to satisfy the fire the Matron has light inside her. She just wanted to get out of her sweaty clothes and into the showers. Where were those other girls?

"How long have you been here?" The Gym Matron said, stepping outside. She had her tablet, and was looking in her short's pocket for her stylus. She was obviously surprised that Roku had beaten her back to the Gym. 

"Just arrived." Roku replied, pretending to be out of breath.

"That makes..." The Gym Matron said, looking at the clock on her tablet. "Thirty eight minutes..." She wrote this down. 

Yeah, thirty eight minutes, Roku thought, minus the five I'd just spent there waiting. Roku pulled her sticky shirt off up over her head, and stepped towards the door.

"Good hustle, Roku." The Gym Matron said, and slapped Roku firmly on the ass as she passed. The slap made Roku's bare breasts jiggle. Roku gave the Gym Matron a look of surprise, and the Gym Matron gave Roku a sly grin. 

I guess all the Matron's aren't that different, Roku mussed. It was just the two of them, none of the other girls were even in sight of the Gymnasium, so Roku slipped off her shorts, and walked the rest of the way into the Gym wearing nothing but her running shoes. She knew the Gym Matron would be watching her slippery, red bottom with interest. After all, she had always sort of liked the Gym Matron – the big, butch beefy Jane...

In the locker room, Roku took off her running shoes and laid down on a bench. It was no good getting into the showers before the other girls came. The Mosh had rules, though Roku had never really figured out why. It was a totally prohibited tradition. The Matron's constantly harped-on about the sin of sexual contact between students. That the Mosh was tolerated at all probably had more to do with reducing sex in the dormitories that anything else: Let them play with their Janes in the showers, and they wouldn't be playing with each other in the night – was probably the thinking. But there were rules and guidelines that the girls had made up for themselves: You couldn't touch anyone else's Jane in The Mosh. Not with your hand, not with your mouth. That was strictly prohibited. Perhaps that mean it wasn't actually sex? Whatever... But you could grab all the tits and ass you liked, and a soapy thigh between the legs was welcome. Kissing was okay – encouraged, and it was bad form not make out with anyone who wanted to make out with you – but mostly it was about rubbing your clit, and watching the other girls do the same. It was one massive circle rub, with the hot showers running, and the soap all over your body, and the smell of the other girl's cum mixing in with yours...

It was bliss! Fucking bliss, and Roku had to rub her Jane, just a little, laying there on the bench, even though The Mosh was just moments away. That was bad form too: Taking The Mosh outside the showers – starting it before you were in the showers, but Roku didn't care. She ran a finger of her right hand down the length of her trim, curly black Jane, and squeezed her left nipple with her other hand. She could cum right there and then, on the bench alone...

...Hell, Roku had run out of patience. She stood up and grabbed a towel. Might as well have a Mosh of one, she through, heading into the showers.

She turned on the water at each shower head as she passed, but kept moving until she was at the very back of the white tiled T-shaped shower. The steam began to build around her, and soon she couldn't see more than a few feet. She put her body under a running spigot, letting the scalding hot water wash down her front. She could feel then tension in her muscles beginning to unknit as she rubbed soap the full length of her long, porcelain white limbs. She ducked her head under the running water and let it blind her. She wet her hair and ran her soapy hands through it. With her eyes closed, she explored the curves of her own body until her fingers came to the tip of her nipples. She pulled on them, squeezing, pinching, and let them stand out erect. She could feel her clitoris hard between her legs, and she explored down her body with her hands to find it. She pinched it between for index fingers and moved it in a slow circle. She let out a soft moan, image of the other girts dancing in her mind: On their knees in front of Roku, lapping hungrily at Roku's Jane.

A hand reached out and cupped Roku's left breast. Roku jumped in surprise. She opened her eyes, rubbed the water away with the back of her hand to she the blurry figure of a redhead standing in the steam beside her. It was Pelli, Roku's bunkmate in the dormitory. Roku's best – only friend. Pelli was rake thin, pale as a sheet, with a head of long curly red hair that matched the bush of her Jane. She had small breasts, almost none at all, but her nipples were large and erect. They were fully extended as Pelli leaned forward to take Roku's right breast into her mouth, fully devouring it. Her tongue made three circles, then she sucked on the nipple hungrily. Her other hand still cupped Roku's left breast, squeezing.

"Started early?" Pelli whispered after she pulled free of Roku's right nipple with a slurp. She leaned in to lock onto Roku's lips, her tongue already pushing out of her pink, soft mouth. Roku let Pelli kiss her, letting her tongue search restlessly around in her mouth. Roku embraced the smaller girl, reaching around and cupping Pelli's petite ass. She thrust a leg between Pelli's, and lifted her up onto her thigh. As they kissed, Pelli wiggled there, rubbing her Jane against the soapy slickness of Roku's leg.

Roku was dimly aware that they had company. Roku broke of the kiss and looked around to see three girls showering themselves nearby, watching. That was doubly exhilarating: To be watched. The other girls were cleaning their tanned bodies as Pelli was putting love bits down the length of Roku's neck. Her tongue licked along the length of one of Roku's collar bones, and she again began to suck lovingly on Roku's large, firm breasts. The other girls closed in, watching it all with interest. Roku's fingers were down in her Jane now, rubbing frantically. Pelli began to push Roku's breasts together and lick at both nipples simultaneously, as the three girls formed a circle around her. 

They were playing with their Janes now, too, but still watching Pelli intently. 

Surrounded by girls, with Roku up against the shower wall, Pelli dropped to her knees. Down there in the steam, Roku could see Pelli's hand slip between her legs, but her face was now inches from Roku's masturbation. Oh, if she would just kiss me there, Roku through, but that was against the rules. Stupid fucking rules! What point was there to them? But Roku just doubled the rate of her masturbation. Pelli was watching it intently, fingering herself, Roku's Jane just inches from her face – Roku wide open and inviting. The other girls tightened the circle, bringing their Janes in close. Pelli looked around in excitement. All the fingers frigging away at all the clits. She let out a high pitched squeal, and Roku knew she was cumming, her fiery red cunt bouncing up and down on her fingers. Another girl climaxed too, and when she had finished, Pelli pulled away her hand to suck on the offending fingers hungrily. That sight was too much for Roku. The orgasm began to ripple through her body. Deep and intense, enough to buckle her knees. The other two girls were only seconds behind, and when they had all done they offered up their fingers to Pelli, who devoured them each in turn – gleefully licking and sucking them clean.

This was why The Mosh was so fucking amazing – Roku thought, sliding down the shower wall in exhaustion, coming to rest of the slick floor – dirty little girls like Pelli. Pelli snuggled into Roku, and kissed her lips gently. The warm water washed over them as the lay there intertwined. The other girls returned to washing their bodies at the shower heads around them. Roku looked around at the hard, tanned asses that were all at about her eye level. She looked down at Pelli in her arms, who still had the energy to play with one of Roku's breasts. The Mosh was absolutely, positively the best fucking thing in the world, Roku through, and it was something the Matrons could never take away. 

Never.



Hatchette Ch. 03



3. Kissing the Lily

"Are you heading back to the dorm?" Pelli asked later, back in the locker room, as she dried her hair. Life was back to normal. Outside the shower, no one discussed what happened in The Mosh. You could cum as many times as you wanted, with as many girls as you wanted, but once you left the showers – it was like it had never happened. Pelli and Roku were friends again, not lovers.

It was the end of the day. Calisthenics was Roku's last class. All the other girls would be heading back to the dormitories for dinner, and to watch the vidcasts. But not Roku.

"No, I have to work." Roku said, despondently. She was pulling on her panties. 

"Quit." Pelli said without hesitation. "What do you want to clean someone else's toilets for?" She made a good point.

"I can't." Roku said, pulling on her shirt. "I need the money." She lied.

Pelli shrugged. She was standing naked in front of Roku. She turned to pick up her clothes, and Roku looked longingly at her tiny, cream colored bottom. She wondered if Pelli could still taste the cum on her lips – she wanted to taste Pelli's. Roku shook herself and reached for her skirt. That was The Mosh, this is the real world... She told herself to get a grip.

"I'll see you at lights-out." Roku said after slipping into her skirt and putting on her heels. Pelli didn't answer, she was adjusting the padded bra she always wore. You don't need to wear that, Roku almost said out loud, your tits are just perfect, she thought. But that was The Mosh talking again, not reality. Pelli didn't want Roku's opinion about her breasts.

Roku did stopped off at the dormitory just long enough to change her clothes. She took off her preposterous school uniform and slipped into her only slightly less preposterous maid's uniform, the dress of which – at least – complete covered Roku's ass. It was a simple black outfit, with lace at the cuffs of the short sleeves and around the neckline; a lace petticoat and black stockings were worn underneath; and a simple, practical white cotton apron on the outside. Otherwise relatively normal – no, it was the neckline of the costume that was ridiculous. It plunged so low as to expose a great expanse of cleavage. If Roku leaned far enough forward you could easy see her bellybutton. Again – like the school uniform – the wardrobe was a mark of sexual submission – impractical except to humiliate the wearer. Separate and above their menial duties, the maids of Ober Manor were there to be ogled. Roku had to squash down the anger that built up inside her just putting on the uniform. She had to remember her mission – it was always about the mission.

Fearing she might miss the trolley, Roku bolted out of the dormitory as soon as she was dressed. Out through the cloister, across the Grand Hall, and out the main doors, she was soon crunching across the gravel of the school's long driveway. Where the driveway met the main road was the trolley stop, and Roku wasn't a moment too early. If she missed this one, it'd be an hour 'til the next. It was pulling away as Roku cleared the driveway, and she had to sprint to catch up and leap onto the open back. She must have been quiet the sight: Sprinting in high heels and shear black stockinged legs, her full bosom almost bouncing free of her cleavage. But she caught the trolley and found a free seat, to the admiring, lusty glances of the old ladies already aboard.

Oh shit, Roku needed to pee.

She hadn't thought to do it after The Mosh, and cumming always made her need to pee. There hadn't been time in the dormitory, and it was a twenty minute ride to the gates of the Ober Manor. Oh well, she'd just have to hold it... She crossed her legs as best she could in the uniform. She had brought her folio. She wouldn't need her tablet, but she was always supposed to remained armed. There hadn't been time to transfer her burner to a concealed holster – not that there was really anywhere under her uniform to conceal a gun. Just like there had been no time to pee... Roku was beginning to regret bother decisions: Not going to the bathroom, and not hiding her gun away under her skirt. The folio looked out of place with the maid's costume. Roku really needed to think about these things. It was the little things that made a cover, Lt. Zee always said – forgetting the little details was how you got yourself killed. Roku might be a highly trained, genetically engineered, elite Hatchette, but she was supposed to be an average, everyday eighteen year old girl. She had to think like an eighteen year old girl, not like a secret agent.

Now she really had to pee...

Think of something else, Roku told herself. The Tolley was stopping at its next stop, letting off an old lady. She was taking her own sweet time getting down their stairs. Come on, you old bitch! Roku gritted her teeth. She uncrossed her legs and crossed them the other way. It would be fifteen more minutes before she arrived at the Ober Mansion. Maybe she should just get off the trolley here and pee behind a bush? But then she'd have to wait an hour for the next trolley. She could just run cross the open country. Fuck, she could run faster than this damn trolley. No, that was the Hatchette training thinking again, Roku told herself. Normal girls don't just run five kilometers in heels dress as a maid. She'd just have to sit there and grin and bear the pressure. That's what a normal eighteen year old girl would do. 

Eighteen year old girls were fucking idiots...

The Ober Wives were the oldest line marriage on the planet – that's right, think about your mission, that'll take your mind off your bladder – the first line marriage, it is said, the trail blazers. There were currently sixteen wives, ranging in age from twenty five to fifty nine, all residing at the Ober Manor. The Ober Wives were a political dynasty. All the wives held high positions within the Commissariat. Lady Erel – former First Commissar – was the oldest, but Lady Aru was universally regarded as the senior wife. She was forty one, politically ambitious, with designs on becoming the second Ober Wife to serve as First Commissar. 

The mission made no sense to Roku – the Ober Wives were squeaky clean, beyond reproach. The first Ober Wives had been instrumental in the banishment of the male sex from the planet, to suggest that they were somehow involved in Dick Terrorism... Well, it was just plain insane. But it wasn't Roku's place to question her orders. Lt. Zee had assigned her to take a servant's position in the Ober household, to keep her eyes open, and – should the opportunity present itself – ingratiate herself sexually with one of the Ober wives. Did the Hatchette Command expect her to check each Ober Wife for a penis? It made no sense, no sense at all. 

When the trolley finally rolled to a halt in front the in imposing steel gates of the Ober Estate, Roku wasn't worried. It was just be a quick check at security, and she could hurry up the drive, in through the servant's entrance, and she'd be in the Scullery where there was a bathroom. But the guard at the gate – clad head-to-toe in black leather, eyes hidden behind dark glasses – took her sweet time looking over Roku's identification. She looked down at the card, up at Roku, and down at the identification again. Roku was practically dancing in pain – keeping her thighs pinned tightly together. It was a old ID, from before Roku had undergone her genetic treatments, so the picture didn't look much like her. The guard was right to give it a second look, but today of all days... Roku just couldn't catch a break. Late for class and now late for work. But the Housekeeper wouldn't paddle Roku's behind... No, she'd just fire Roku, and then Roku would have failed in her mission. The guard finally handed back Roku's ID and triggered the lock on the small pedestrian gate. Roku didn't waste a second. She yelled an abrupt 'thank you' and scuttled off toward the Scullery. She had to run now, even in her heels, or she'd wet herself right there on the Ober's driveway.

Roku made into the Scullery without any accidents. She pushed her Folio up onto a shelf where the maids stored their personal belongings, and turned toward the small water closet beside the doorway. 

"Roku!" The Housekeeper yelled across the room. Roku's hand was reaching out for the bathroom door, she contemplated pretending she hadn't heard the Housekeeper, but before she could stop herself, she had turned. "Come with me." The Housekeeper ordered. The Housekeeper was a gray haired, gray faced lady. She stood bolt upright like her spine was fused at the joints, in what Roku could only assume passed for dignity in her particular profession. Roku opened her mouth to protest, but the Housekeeper thrust up a stern finger. "You're late." She scolded. "Come with me." The Housekeeper repeated, and spun on her heels.

Fuck her, Roku said to herself, but instantly knew she was going to follow. She didn't have to remind herself about her cover. Lt. Zee had told Roku not to make any mistakes within the Ober household. That if a government agent was discovered spying on them, they would react aggressively – violently. It was doubly important that Roku do everything she was told. Roku might have been thinking: Fuck her, but the cover demanded that Roku falling in lockstep behind the Housekeeper. Full bladder or no.

Perhaps the scalding would be quick, but the Housekeeper didn't lead Roku to her office. They left the Scullery, took the servant's stairs, and emerged on the third floor. Roku had never been on the third floor before. The Ober Estate was the home of the Ober Wives, but in the month that Roku had worked there, she had never actually set eyes on any of them. The Manor was always abuzz with guests and hangers-on. It was more hotel than family home. The maid staff was kept busy tending to the needs of the politically connected guests. Only a small number of senior maids actually waited on the Ober Wives. The third floor, Roku assumed, was the private suites of the many wives. The upper floors were for the guests, with seniority and political clout diminishing the higher you climbed, so Roku assumed the third floor was ground zero. And here she was, for the first time on the third floor. Roku followed the Housekeeper down the immaculately decorated neoclassical corridors until they came to a group of maids lined up along one wall. There were perhaps half a dozen maids already waiting there. The Housekeeper shot her stern finger to an empty place at the end of the line where Roku was meant to take up her position. She'd be the farthest maid away from the large, ornate double doors that sat at the end of the corridor. We all must be waiting to be called inside, Roku assumed as she took her space in line.

"Ma'am-" Roku began to speak as the Housekeeper turned to leave. Surely it'd be okay if Roku went to the bathroom.

"No talking!" The Housekeeper barked at Roku. "No talking in line!" She yelled more generally to the whole group. "When Lady Aru rings, you will enter. Until then, be still!" The Housekeeper said again directly at Roku. Roku was dancing a little, trying to take the pressure off her bladder. "Be quiet and be still! You are not paid to make noise!" The Housekeeper finish, and stormed off down the hall. They all stood there in silence, listening to the Housekeeper's footsteps receded. Ten seconds of silence turned into thirty. Thirty turned into a whole minute, and that minute turned into two. Oh, Roku began to double over in pain... Stupid fucking Housekeeper – fucking Ober Wives, Roku cursed under her breath. Oh, Roku was going to pee all over the five hundred year old Persian rug that covered the oak floor of the halfway. She really was! She just couldn't hold it anymore! Damn standing in line! Damn her cover! She had to pee. Roku looked around for relief. There was a door just a few feet away. Roku stepped out of line and tried the handle. 

"Hay, where are you going?" One of the other maids whispered after Roku. Roku didn't answer The door was mercifully open, and – Oh, thank the Holy Matrons! – was a bathroom. A big bathroom... A large sunken tub – more like a swimming pool – sat in the center of the room, and a shower as big as The Mosh showers back at school took up one wall. But Roku was paying no attention to such details. There was a toilet just off another door in the far right wall. Roku moved urgently over to it. She hitched up her skirt and her petticoat, and pulled down her panties. This upset the whole length of her dress, and her boobs came loose from the neckline as she squatted down. But Roku didn't care. She let loose with a long warm stream of pee before she was even seated. The pressure on her bladder gave way, and she relaxed her whole body down onto the cold seat. She let her head bob down between her knees with relief – all the better to squeeze out every last bit inside her. She audibly groaned with pleasure as the last of the urine left her body. She left her head hanging there, hands on the floor, enjoying the peace like a calm after a storm. 

Someone cleared her throat.

Roku shot up in complete horror. In the doorway – the other doorway, right beside where Roku was sitting – a woman was standing looking down at Roku. She was incredibly tall, or seemed so, standing there looking down at Roku. Roku's mouth opened and closed in terror. The woman was completely nude except for the six inch stiletto heels on her feet. 

Oh God, what had Roku done?

The woman had wide, curvy hips and improbably large breasts for her tiny wasp-like waste. Every inch of her was muscle, like a professional athlete. Only her face betrayed any signs of age. She had a stunning, patrician beauty about her, with a distinct, glorious look of perfection about her features. But her eyes were not young. No, you could see they had seen many things. But the slight smirk on her wide, full lips told Roku that the woman had never quite seen anything like Roku before. There Roku sat, her panties around her knees, her legs wide open for all the world to see, her Jane still wet from urination and the shoulders of her dress down so her breasts fell free from the neckline of her ridiculous uniform. It was absolutely and complete the most embarrassing thing Roku could have imagined, but as she sat there looking up at the naked woman in horror, there was only one things running though Roku's head:

Who puts on their heels before their underwear?

It must have been the Hatchette training again – that total and complete lack of ability to be humiliated – the attention to the smallest detail even when everything else was going crazy around you. But intellectually, Roku knew things couldn't be worse. To be caught in this position...

"If you're quite finished." The nude woman said. Roku couldn't look away from her tremendous, luscious breasts. The woman didn't seem at all embarrassed – either for herself being found naked, or sympathetically for Roku. She made no motion of hide her body. Her hands remained slightly crossed across the tight expanse of her stomach. There were a few bracelets around her wrists, and her fingernails were long and painted. Oh God... A sinking feeling began to come over Roku. She scrambled frantically to pull up her underwear and climb off the toilet. She managed both and the automatic flush engaged. 

"Ma'am, I'm sorry-" Roku began, but the nude woman didn't wait for Roku to stammer out an apology. She simple turned and walked back through the doorway, giving Roku a view of her perfect, upturned heart-shaped ass.

"Follow me." She commanded, and all of Roku's fears were confirmed. The noble air, the casual authority – there was only one woman the nude could be... Suddenly Roku's brain was able to reconcile the face she had seen so many times on the vidcast and the face that looked back over her shoulder now at Roku.

It was none other than Lady Aru Ober herself.

Roku, of all places, had taken a giant wizz in the bathroom of the future – perhaps present, Roku didn't keep up with politics – Commissar of the Planet Earth. Lt. Zee had suggested that Roku insinuate herself into the Ober family somehow, but Roku doubted she had meant exactly like this. But Lady Aru didn't seem upset. She seemed amused, if anything. Though the door, following Lady Aru, Roku stepped in the Lady's bedroom – a vast room with vaulted ceilings, all rococo columns and gold gilt. Lady Aru walked over to a full length mirror that was standing in the center of the room and looked at her figure in it. There was a large collection of clothes tossed absently around on the furniture. Lady Aru was obviously in the midsts of wardrobe difficulties. She raised her arms to adjust her hair, looking in the mirror, and Roku got to take in the full extent of the Lady's stunning figure. 

She was tall, over two meters in the heels, with curves and definition no forty one year old woman could rightfully expect. In an instant, Roku knew the body was the product of genetic conditioning, just like Roku's. But not for combat like Roku's. No, Lady Aru was a sculpture in flesh. Her body was her instrument of command – of authority. Why the members of the Commissariat maintained such a high standard of beauty, Roku had never understood. But staring now at the immaculate perfection that was Lady's Aru's figure – undressed, as no one else ever saw it – Roku began to comprehend. That body was power. It spoke of absolute perfection. The voice that emerged from that body could no more speak a falsehood, than the hips could allow a gram of fat. You instantly fell in love with Lady Aru, the second you say her, and that – Roku understood – was power.

"The camisole, I think." Lady Aru said, snapping Roku back to reality. She gestured towards the bed. There was a light, white lace camisole among the other underwear laying in a pile. It took a moment for Roku to realize she was supposed to fetch it. Roku adjusted her cleavage in her uniform, making sure nothing untoward was hanging out, and jogged over to the side of the bed.

She picked up the fragile garment and held it out to Lady Aru, but the Lady had her arms held straight up. Roku was looking directly at the Lady's large, firm breasts. She had small nipples, centered in seas of large areolas, but the shape and cup of the breasts was perfect. They were shaped like smaller breasts, perhaps the size and shape of Roku's, but many, many cup sizes larger. They defied gravity, pointing out toward Roku. After taking in the remarkable sight, Roku began to understand that she was supposed to dress Lady Aru... But there was no way Roku could even reach the top of Lady Aru's head, no less slip the camisole over. But there was stool beside the bed, Lady Aru – not moving her arms – kicked out with a foot and deftly pulled the stool over. Roku climbed up, and slid the delicate garment down over Lady Aru's arms, over her head, and down around her breasts. 

"No..." Lady Aru said, looking at herself in the mirror. She looked at her profile from the left and the right, Roku watching every movement. Lady Aru. disliking what she saw, pulled the camisole off with a single movement and tossed it back onto the bed. "A corset, perhaps." The Lady pointed at a rigid contraption of black lace and strings. Roku picked it up and examined it. It was very similar to what the Matrons at school wore outside their black robes. Roku opened up the circle of the device, and Lady Aru's legs, one at a time, stepped into it. It was a tight fit around the hips, and Roku couldn't avoid running her hands along the lengths of Lady's Aru's curves trying to get the corset into place. Her skin was milky soft, but firm to the touch. There was no reason for the corset – there wasn't an millimeter of Lady Aru's shape that could be distorted. But Roku maneuvered the garment into place and stood behind the Lady to pulled the laces tight. The corset made the Lady's tiny waist seen even smaller and the sweep of her breast even higher.




Hatchette Ch. 03



"Yes, that will do." The Lady said, looking at herself full frontal in the mirror.

"I would like to apologize..." Roku began again, thinking the pause made for a good moment to speak.

"Stockings." Lady Aru interrupted. She lowered herself into a chair, holding out a leg. Roku scrambled around on the bed, finding a pair of stocking near the pillows. She started towards Lady Aru, but the Lady just said: "Black." And Roku dropped the white stocking she had picked up, and dug around for a black pair. 

When she had located some, Roku walked over to Lady Aru. The Lady held out one of her stiletto shoes to Roku, sitting lazily in the arm chair. Roku fiddled with the tiny buckles that held the shoe in place, and pulled it off. She found the end of the stocking, gathered it up until she had the toe, and slipped the stocking onto Lady Aru's long, slender leg. She pushed it into place, all the way up the thigh, and let her hands linger just a moment when the job was done. Roku's fingers were just a centimeter away from Lady Aru's Jane and the perfectly flat, tight stomach beyond. Roku looked up to see Lady Aru playfully bitting at one of her long, painted nails. 

She was enjoying this, Roku realized. She hadn't been angry finding Roku on the toilet, she hadn't even been amused. The sight of Roku taking a piss must have titillated Lady Aru. Why, Roku didn't quite fathom, but what turned on the rich and powerful was anyone's guess. As the Matron had mentioned earlier that day, Roku had turned into quite a beautiful girl. Perhaps finding a sexy young underling, breaking the rules – embarrassing herself, was just the sort of thing that fired up a powerful woman – a woman who could have anyone she wanted, anytime. Perhaps, like the Matrons, things had to be a a little degrading or it wasn't really any fun. And then to have Roku dress her... Yes, Roku sort of understood that. Roku would like to have Pelli dress her sometime, she thought. That would be fun. She could see how Lady Aru could get off on that: Roku's fingers touching the inside of her thighs...

Roku removed the other shoe, gathered up the second stocking, a slid that one into place. This time she was more bold and caressed around the inside of Lady Aru's thigh, as if smoothing out the top of the stocking. Lady Aru responded by opening her legs a little, giving Roku a full view of her most private place. Lady Aru had a full bush of public hair at the apex of her vulva, but her labia majora were shaved. The pinkness of her clitoral hood could just be seen poking though, but Roku's attention was drawn away to a small tattoo on Lady Aru's inner left thigh. It was of a small flower. 

"All the wives have one." Lady Aru volunteered, seeing where Roku was looking. "Tradition dictates that anyone who sees the flower is destined to become the next Ober wife..." Lady Aru giggled like a school girl and bit down on the end of her finger. "We call it 'kissing the lily.'" 

A cold sweat broke out on Roku's brow. What that an invitation? Roku looked down at the sweet deliciousness of Lady Aru's Jane and very much wanted to plunge her tongue into its warmth. But was she just teasing? Was this whole thing just one giant tease? Would miss-judging that cue be – on top of everything else – the perfect ending for an absolutely humiliating day? Roku looked between the tattoo, the separated legs, and up at Lady Aru's smiling face. There were no clues there. Wasn't it her mission to establish some sort of relationship with one of the Ober Wives? Well, the head wife – perhaps First Commissar of the Planet – had just suggested that Roku should pleasure her. You could call that mission accomplished. But how could Roku spin it if she'd got the cue wrong? There was no way to spin sticking your tongue in someone's Jane. That was a action that could not be misinterpreted... 

But, by the Love of the Holy Matron, Roku didn't have to make her decision. The door opened just then – one of the large double doors – and a woman in a white suit stumbled in. Literally stumbled. There was nothing to trip on, but she manged it. She almost landed face first on the carpet, but was able to right herself. She came up talking:

"I need a car for the night-" She started, but saw the compromising position Roku and Lady Aru were in and stopped. Roku instantly shot to her feet, slinking off to take up a position on the edge of the room. Lady Aru didn't move, she just lowered the leg that Roku had been holding to the floor.

"What is it now, Le-En?" Lady Aru said wearily. 

The woman in the white suit – Lady Le-En – the newest Ober wife. Only twenty five. She was a pretty woman with shoulder length blond hair. She was wearing a white jacket with matching white slacks, underneath which was a powder blue halter top and a few simple items of jewelry. She screamed money, but she was drunk – stinking drunk. She stared at Roku with that penetrating gaze of incomprehension only drunks could manage. 

"Hey, what's-" Le-En began. 

Lady Aru was slipping her foot back into her shoe and snapped at Le-En angrily: "Is there a reason you interrupted me?" 

"I..." Lady Le-En was looking back and forth between Roku and Lady Aru. Even through the impenetrable haze that was clouding over her mind, she had seen what Lady Aru and Roku were up to. "I need a car, I'm going out." She finally said, smirking.

"Then take a car, damn it!" Lady Aru stood up, scooped up and pulled a silk dressing gown around her shoulders. For the first time that evening, Roku saw that she was self-conscious of her body. 

"But you have all the security personnel on duty for your fucking party. There's no one to drive me."

"And this is my concern?!" Lady Aru raised her voice. She was gathering up clothes in big handfuls. "If you can't drive yourself, take the trolley." Lady Aru continued, calmer.

Lady Le-En just snorted. She turned and started back out of the door.

"Drunk already?" Lady Aru said before Le-En was completely gone. Le-En paused, then turned. "I mean, really? Have some self-respect." 

Le-En stood there in the doorway for a long second, looking at Lady Aru with wide, dilated eyes. 

"Fuck you, you old witch." She said softly, and stepped out of the door. Lady Aru flew into a rage. She stomped at the floor and threw the clothes in her hands at the door. It wasn't a very effective temper tantrum, but only Roku was there to witness. 

When Lady Aru calmed down, she looked over at Roku who was standing humbly by the bathroom door. 

"Send in the other maids." Lady Aru ordered. "And don't let me catch you using my bathroom again." 

And whatever it was – whatever had been going on between Lady Aru and Roku – was over.

Roku trotted on her heels to the two large doors. She opened them, and waved for the other girls to enter. After that, it was all business. Lady Aru was getting ready for some function. She barked orders, and let the maids dress her in a hurried, detached fashion. Roku remained in the room, doing her part, but Lady Aru didn't again directly address Roku, or even shoot her a glance. It was like nothing had happened. Like the locker room after The Mosh – just get dressed and go. 

When Lady Aru was dressed, she stormed off out of her room without a word. Roku though she'd better spend some extra time cleaning up the bathroom. After all, any mess in there was her doing. She wiped the toilet down, but there was really no mess to speak of. 

What a strange and unusual day, Roku thought. Was there anything there with Lady Aru that she could build on? Had there really been a moment between them? Well, Lady Aru was – with no uncertain doubt – not a Dick. Roku could report back that she had checked on that detail throughly. The thought made Roku smile. 

She was one step closer to completing her mission in the Ober Household, but she was no closer to understanding what that mission really was. Perhaps Roku should investigate Lady Le-En? Though Roku had little real understanding of the term: The suit that Lady Le-En was wearing could have been considered, at one time or another, to have been masculine. Was that the sort of leads Roku was supposed to follow up on? Roku finished up cleaning the toilet, and flushed away the disposable cloth she had been using. She pulled herself back onto her feet, thinking about Lady Le-En, only to find the woman in question watching Roku from the door to the hall.

"Ma'am?" Roku managed to say.

"Say, sweetheart..." Lady Le-En said drunkenly, leaning against the door post and almost managing to miss. "You know how to drive, don't you?"



Hatchette Ch. 04



4. Steely Dan

Of course, Roku knew how to drive. Roku knew how to drive an Atom Tank. Roku knew how to fly a Orbital Skip Bike. But most girls living in a Girl's School Dormitory probably didn't even know how to handle a car... The eighteen year old in Roku knew she should say no, but the Hatchette in her wanted to follow up on the Le-En lead. And to do that, she'd have to reveal that she did know how to drive an automobile. It was a small thing, Roku guessed, what harm could come on it?

"Sure..." Roku said guardedly. Lady Le-En was leaning against the door post. Roku could smell the Res on her breath from across the bathroom.

"Great! You're hired. Come on." Lady Le-En teetered back up onto her feet and gave Roku a 'follow me' gesture.

"But I-" Roku began to protest.

"-But nothing. Come on, lets have some fun." Le-En smiled cunningly. She turned and headed off unsteadily down the hall. Roku trotted on her heels behind her, taking two feminine steps for each one of Le-En's drunken strides. 

"I'll go get a..." and Le-En's voice trailed off. She stopped, turning back to Roku like Roku would remember what she was about to say. "I'll go get a car," Le-En remembered, "you..." She pointed at Roku's chest. She seemed to notice Roku's immense cleavage for the first time. She smiled and let out a soft grunt, leaning forward – almost fell forward – to get a better look at Roku's full protruding bosom. "You... Pretty girl..." She groped out drunkenly, roughly squeezing Roku's left breast through the uniform. "You meet me around the side. The servant's entrance. You know – shit, of course you know... You're gonna drive me into town. And there – there we're gonna have a good time, you and I..."

Lady Le-En un-sensually mashed around Roku's breast a little more, than pulled her hand away. She licked her lips, still looking down at the cleavage. After a second, she was able to pull her eyes away and tuned toward the nearby stairs. 

"Five minutes, max," she yelled behind her, tripping on the third step, and almost tumbling down the stairs. Roku, once again, realigned the neckline of her uniform. Nothing, it seemed, could keep her breasts covered today. 

She started for the servant's stairs, headed down, and arrived in the Scullery. She took a shawl off a hook by the outside door, there specifically for maid use; and just had time to reach up to the maid's shelf and trigger the quick release on the secret holster of her folio. Her burner popped out and she spirited it away into the front pocket of her apron. 

She was out of the door of the Scullery and standing on the gravel of the driveway when Lady Le-En brought the low, wide town car around the corner from the garages. She obviously had no experience operating the vehicle, and it spurted and stopped before it skidded to a halt besides Roku. The driver's door flew open, and Lady Le-En poured out. She took a header into the gravel as she tried to clear the car – made worse by the bottle of Res in her hand. She fell forward into the dirt, pulled herself up, took a large swig off the bottle, and fumbled for the handle of the rear door.

"Fucking witch!" she cursed, and Roku assumed she was referring back to Lady Aru. Roku stepped forward, and opened the back door. Lady Le-En fell in with one long motion, collapsing on the plush leather of the back seat. She let out a loud cackle, and drank again from the bottle. Roku closed the door behind her, and slipped into the driver's seat. She put the car in gear and started it rolling down the driveway. The leather clad guards at the gate didn't take a second look at the shiny white town car. The gates opened without Roku having to slack off on the accelerator. Finally clear of the Ober Mansion and on the main road, Roku quickly had the electric engines turned up to a hundred, heading toward the skyscrapers of downtown.

"So you're Aru's new taste?" Lady Le-En began suddenly from the back seat. She had been silent since climbing into the car – the green countryside rolling by outside the windows.

"I'm sorry," Roku said, looking back in the rear view mirror. She had assumed Lady Le-En had passed out back there, all laid out across the rear seat. But Le-En sat up and took a swing of her Res.

"I said: You're Aru's new toy, huh?" she said caustically. "I saw you two back there... The great Commissar with her legs wide open... You are a pretty thing, I'll give her that, but how old are you?" 

"I-I-" Roku begin to explain herself, but then decided against it. "Eighteen," she simply said.

"Finger the Holy Matron!" Lady Le-En cursed, then laughed. "Well, word of warning from last week's play-thing, girl: That woman is a stone cold whore, I can tell you that. And don't think that kissing the lily will make you an Ober Wife. She fucks half a dozen maids a week, and doesn't blink an eye. Unless you've got something she wants – unless you're someone the wives need..." Her voice trailed off as she took another drink.

"I'm sorry? I don't understand," Roku said to the reflection in the mirror.

"Forget about it!" Lady Le-En said quickly. "How about you and me have some fun!" She leaned forward in her seat and handed the bottle of Res over.

"I-I-I really shouldn't," Roku said, trying to push the bottle away.

"Come on, it'll loosen you up," Le-En insisted, pushing the bottle almost into Roku's face. It made driving difficult. Roku took the bottle just to avoid crashing the car. 

"Well... Alright..." Roku took the bottle and took a long slow drink. Roku wasn't afraid of getting drunk. Her Hatchette implants included a complete esophagual bypass – she could drink a bottle of strychnine and feel no ill effects. But Res tasted so God damn awful... Its use had almost completely replaced alcohol consumption. It was distilled from the resin of a type of cactus found on one of the moons of Jupiter. It had a mild hallucinogenic, euphoric effect. But Roku could never get used to the aftertaste. Maybe she was too young. Maybe you could cultivate a taste for the stuff with age. Oh well... Roku tilted the bottle back and drank, silently engaging her esophagual bypass. She wanted to seem eager – to ingratiate herself in Lady Le-En's good graces. It was all for the mission, after all...

"That's more like it!" Lady Le-En fell back into her seat and laughed. "Oh I like you! I like you, too! Lady Aru has always had good taste, I can say that much good about her." 

Roku took another drink, just for good measure.

"Where are we going?" Roku asked, handing back the bottle. Lady Le-En took it and chugged down the last of the Res. 

"I know a place," Le-En said when she came back up for air. 

"Where?" Roku prodded. 

"You'll see."

They drove into town, amongst the skyscrapers – the impossibly mile tall building, arching off into the sky. They crossed the river and were in the old town, amongst the building dating back to before the Dick and Jane War – building made by men. Cold and ugly and unloved. They turned onto a street that had, perhaps, once been a high street of banking. Large, imposing, classical building lined both sides of the road. Once-upon-a-time, they might have seemed impressive – speaking volumes about the wealth and power of their owners – but now they just seemed sad. Old and broken. Artifacts of forgotten age.

"You ever been to a brothel?" Lady Le-En whispered excitedly into Roku's ear. She was leaning up against the front seats, her mouth just inches from Roku's ear, watching the desolation roll by.

"A what?" Roku fained ignorance. She knew what a brothel was. Prostitution was not, technically, something that was illegal. In the New Order there was no conceivable reason for one woman to pay another for sex. The concept was a holdover from the evil days of male domination. Prostitution wasn't illegal because the Commissariat simple dictated that it didn't exist. But there were brothels where sex could be purchased, mostly of the 'phallus palace' variety. Unlike Prostitution, dildos were very much against the law. Dildos, vibrators, anything shaped or intended to be used like a penis... All contraband. Any image that even hinted at that most reviled symbol of male power was the worst sort of blasphemy. And that made their use all the more exciting... To be stimulated by such an evil item – to have another woman wear such a device and fuck you, to humiliate you, to subjugate you. Well, woman would pay money for that... In the darkest, dingiest parts of town. 

"Right here, pull over here," Lady Le-En called out, pointing. Roku pulled the car off the main road and down a small alley. "Yeah, this is it," she said with stratification. The alley was a dead end, ending in a brick wall, but there was a side entrance to one of the imposing buildings, with a red neon sign over the door.

"I don't think this is such a good idea..." Roku said guardedly, bringing the car to a halt. The neon sign read 'Mai's', and a flashing curved red arrow tried to entice customers inside.

"Think is a fucking amazing idea!" Lady Le-En countered, leaping out of the car. She was almost halfway to the door before she realized that Roku wasn't following. She came back, opened the car door, and pulled Roku out. 

"You-you just said to drive..." Roku tried to hint at a note of fear in her voice. Inside her, wild horses couldn't stop her from going in. The Ober Wives had a connection to a south-side brothel? This was amazing intel. When Lt. Zee heard this... But she had to remember her cover: The scared, simple eighteen year old school girl...

"Come on, you're gonna love this!" Lady Le-En said. She seemed to be altogether suddenly a lot more sober. The anticipation must be focusing her mind.

"But, I'm supposed to be-" Roku tried, but Le-En was opening the door. There was a short flight of stairs that ended at a desk. An unpleasant smell of antiseptic hung in the air. The lighting was florescent and harsh. An old woman was thick white makeup – like a Matron – sat behind the desk, smoking. She looked up as Lady Le-En and Roku entered. She looked Roku up and down, noting the maid's uniform poorly hidden beneath the dark shawl, and smiled around her cigarette. She gave Lady Le-En a familiar nod.

"Company, this evening?" the old woman said to Lady Le-En, pulling the smoke out of her mouth. The tone of the old woman's voice, the dismissive look she cast over Roku's body. Roku instantly identified the old woman as a Matron – or perhaps a fallen Matron. Roku had heard of that – that it was possible, and some woman had, left the order. The clothes were wrong, too casual, but that face... That evil, spiteful face...

"A new friend, sister." Lady Le-En leaned drunkenly against the desk, pulling a bundle of bank notes out of her jacket pocket.

"Then perhaps something special?" the old Matron suggested, putting out her cigarette. "The Surgery, perhaps? The Rubber Nurses?"

Lady Le-En shook her head. She was peeling large denomination bills off the bundle.

"The Rape of Lucretia, then?" the old Matron looked hungrily at the cash. "You could easily afford six gladiators, each with a twenty centimeter-"

"No, no," Le-En interrupted, "just the Sento Room," she handed a wad of money across the desk, "and Ciki and Tol..."

"As you wish," the Old Matron shrugged, but happily took the money. She started to count it as Lady Le-En took Roku's arm and started to lead her towards the back rooms.

"Oh, and Steely Dan..." Le-En remembered at the last moment, turning back to the Old Matron.

"Of course..." the Old Matron replied, curing her bright red, animal-like mouth into a twisted grin.

The Sento Room was dominated by a large, square sunken wooden tub; with large, back-lit rice paper screen lighting the room in an eerie warmth. A blast of humidity struck Roku as soon as she stepped through the door. The water in the bath was steaming hot, and condensation clung to every surface of the room. Two high, hardwood tables were positioned a meter from the water, with white towels spread out on them, ready for a nude body to be laid down and massaged. Lady Le-En strolled into the room like it was a second home, and made a beeline for a small bar in one corner, stocked with a half a dozen bottles of Res. She broke the plastic cap on one and took a long, deep swig. When the bottle tipped back down, she whipped her white sleeve across her month and turned to look at Roku.

"What do you think?" she said raising an eyebrow.

"We're going to take a bath?" Roku pulled her shawl off from around her shoulders. It was at least forty degrees in the Sento Room. She was sweating already.

"If you like," Lady Le-En smiled. She kicked off her shoes and took off her jacket. Her powder blue halter top contrasted with the creamy white of her skin. Her breasts were small, pert and unsupported, clinking to the inside of the light fabric of her top. She took another drink from her bottle of Res, and reached a hand back and behind, under her long flowing blond hair. She undid the strap of her top and let it fall loose, and with a tug, the top came free of her breasts, revealing her large pink puffy nipples.

"Lady Le-En, I don't think-" Roku tried to sound shy, but the sight of Le-En's breasts excited her. Lady Le-En ran one hand over her breasts and tugged at her nipples while she drank her Res with the other.

"What's wrong? Aru already fuck you dry?" she said provocatively. "One Ober Wife enough for one day?" she reached down with her free hand and found the clasp of her pants. They dropped free to reveal her shapely, strong legs. She worn no underwear, just the light roan of her pubic hair, well trimmed, at the apex of her muscular legs. 

Well, one more Ober Wife thoroughly examined, Roku thought to herself. Verdict: Not a man...

"I-I didn't-" Roku was about to explain herself – explain what she and Lady Aru had been up to – but she was interrupted when the door swung open and in walked two girls in garish, single piece dresses. Their faces were heavily made up, with bright scarlet lips and heavy black eyeliner. 

"Lady Le-En!" one said with a genuine warmness. They were small women, perhaps no more and one and a half meters, with waists that Roku could almost encircle with her hands. They shuffled in on tall heels, but kicked them off as soon as they entered. One of the girls was carrying a long shiny metal shaft, thirty centimeters long and maybe five wide, with a rounded – almost pointed end. That must be Steely Dan, Roku through, seeing for the first time in her life such a loathsome, yet titillating totem.

"Who's your friend?" the other asked, and looked Roku up and down. Roku suddenly felt self-conscious – still dressed in her maid's uniform. She felt extremely over – or under – dressed for the occasion. "She's pretty..." the whore continued, stepped over next to Roku, running a hand up Roku's thigh and under her petticoat. "Is she here to play, too?" And a hand cupped Roku's ass.

"She's Aru's new taste," Le-En said, casually walking over to one of the massage tables like she wasn't completely naked. The two whore oo'd like that idea impressed them. "So we should show her a good time..." Lady Le-En chuckled. She put down her Res, lifted herself up onto the table, and reclined back on her elbow. She let her legs swing open, unthinkingly reveling the luscious delicacy of her pink Jane. Roku felt her heart leap, but neither of the whores even batted and eye. "A really good time..." Le-En reinforced, taking another drink.

"Well, Steely Dan does not disappoint," the girl holding the dildo said. She held it up so everyone could get a good look at its brilliance. Even in the murky light of Sento Room it shined with an almost inner light. The whore stuck out her tongue and licked the full length of the phallus, taking it into her mouth when she reached the end. She curved her fiery red lips around it and almost chocked as she pushed it deep into her mouth. She brought it out with a joyful slurp and gave it a gentle kiss. "Who first?" the whore laughed, looking over at Lady Le-En.

"The taste," she said. Her free hand was already between her legs, pinching at her clit. The other hand remained throttling the Res bottle. The whore holding Steely Dan turned toward Roku. Roku was transfixed by the steel dildo – transfixed in both lust and terror. Through the show she hadn't noticed that other girl had pulled her panties down to her heels. A hand came up and tickled at her labia, bringing Roku back to reality.

"What are you going to do with that?" Roku honestly asked, but she knew. The thought excited her, but also horrified her. Roku. A Hatchette. A trained hunter and killer of the male animal. A tool of the State. To be penetrated in that way. It was abominable! But oh so delicious.... As one whore poked tenderly at Roku Jane, she could feel her wetness. And the other approached with the steel abhorrence... "Lady Le-En, please..," Roku pleaded.

The girl kneeling beside Roku gently sat Roku down on the second massage table. Roku didn't resist. She pulled Roku's knees apart, and brought her mouth up into position. Roku hardly noticed, her eyes were fixed on the shiny metal of Steely Dan. But as the whore's tongue dug deep into the depths of Roku vagina, and lapped aggressively against her clit, Roku let out a moan of pleasure. She looked down for the first time to see the woman between her legs, her heavily made up face expertly working away at Roku's Jane. Roku almost buckled over. If The Most – as Roku expected – didn't really count as sex, then this was Roku's first real sexual experience. Oh, that tongue up against her clit, those lips sucking on it... The other whore stood by, watching, still holding Steely Dan. Roku looked across to the other massage table, and Lady Le-En was frantically frigging at her blond Jane. She was enjoying the show. Roku untied her apron, and dropped it beside the table. She pulled her uniform up and off, and let it fall away. She squeeze her own breast as the whore ate happily away. She was close to cumming... She let herself lay back down on the table...

"Over," the second whore said. Roku had closed her eyes, ready for the explosion of pleasure. But the tongue stopped. The first whore was on her feet now. They slid their hands under Roku, and rolled her over onto her belly. Hands lifted Roku's butt into the air, and spread her thighs apart. 

"No, no, I don't..." Roku said through heavy breaths. But she really did. The two whores were kissing at the inside of the thighs now, and her buttocks. Fingers were exploring around inside her, pulling apart her labia. There were tongues, simultaneously at her clit and her anus, then there was pressure. Something was pushing up and inside her, into her vagina. It was pushing her apart. It hurt, but it felt wonderful it at same time. The tongues were still there, working hard, as Steely Dan slid slowly inside...

"Oh God..." Roku heard Lady Le-En moan. "Fuck the little slut, fuck her!" she commanded. And Steely Dan began to move. Back suddenly, and then hard in. Roku buried her face in the towel by her head. Oh sweet Holy Matron! "Fuck the bitch!" Roku could hear Le-En moaning. She was cumming. Steely Dan pumped in, once, twice, three times and Roku was cumming too. The tongues, the slick dildo, Lady Le-En watching it all... Roku came hard and long, biting down on the white towel. It might have been criminal, it might have been obscene, but the pleasure filled her with no guilt. She let Steely Dan fill her, and let her organism shake the full length of her body. As it subsided, she let herself relax, lowering down to the table, the infernal device still between her legs. 

"That your first cock, beautiful?" one of the whores asked quietly, stroking at Roku's hair. Roku didn't answer. She kept her eyes closed and enjoyed the aftershock. 




Hatchette Ch. 04



"Who's next?" the other whore asked gaily. But there wasn't time to answer. The door to the Sento Room was thrown open violently, and three women in black leather charged in. 

Roku was too limp to react. The leather clad women were carrying weapons – auto-burners. One of the whores rose to her feet, manged to mutter: "What the fuck-" before the butt of a gun came down on the side of her head. She hit the floor hard, with that rag-doll look of the unconscious.

"Stay where you are!" one of the gun women ordered, pointer her auto-burner at the other whore. Roku stayed prone. God, where was her burner? She'd totally lost track of it! Stupid, stupid mistake. Think, Roku, think. Clear your head of the cum and think. In the pocket of the apron... Which you untied when you were getting eaten out... Down the side of the massage table... To your right... But not right now, no not now...

After the gun women had cleared the room, one spoke quietly into a communicator. The sound of boots could be heard out in the corridor. The click of heels. A fourth leather clad woman stepped into the Sento Room, but this one was obviously in command. She carried no weapon and wore a long leather overcoat with a high collar over her uniform. She took the room in with one sweeping glance, and focused in on Lady Le-En. Lady Le-En had curled up into a naked ball on her table and chuckled to herself softly, the bottle of Res still clutched in her hands.

Roku recognized the uniforms. From the gatehouse back at the Ober Manor. That guard who'd taken so long to examine Roku's identification. Clad shoulder-to-toe in leather, with the mirrored glasses hiding their eyes...

"My Lady," the Guard Commander said to Lady Le-En, respectfully. Le-En just began to cackle louder. She drank from her bottle and curled up a little tighter into her ball. The Guard Commander studied what she had to deal with for a moment, then snapped her fingers curtly at two of her subordinates. Without further instructions, the two guards had Lady Le-En up into a sitting position, and quickly began to dress her. The silence and efficiency with which they worked indicated they'd had to do this service a number of times before.

This was Roku's chance. Two of the gun women were occupied, and the other was distracted. If she was going to make her move for her burner, it was now. But Roku hesitated. Waited. None of this was necessarily a bad thing – not for her mission. Lady Le-En was a Res-head. She liked kinky sex. But Roku was under orders to infiltrate the Ober family, and well... She was up to her neck in it... She couldn't predict who any of this was going to play out, but Roku could foresee some possibilities... 

The guards had Lady Le-En dressed – or dressed enough, and they picked her up between the two of them. They started towards the door. The other guard and the commander were leaving too. Roku suddenly realized no one had even seen her – they were leaving without her. She reached down and pulled Steely Dan out from between her legs, and jumped up from the table. She attempted a form of modesty with one of the towels and reached with a hand to the departing Guard Commander.

"I'm with-" was all she manged, before the truncheon came down across her face. Roku hadn't even noticed it under the Commander's coat; but fast as lighting, she had raised it and smashed it down across Roku's face. Hard. Hard enough that it would have knocked out teeth if Roku's weren't steel cored. Roku hit the floor hard next to the unconscious whore, all attempts at modesty abandoned.

"Silence, whore!" the Commander screamed in a shrill tone. She raised her truncheon to strike again, but decided against it. Roku's world was turning hazy, blurry. Sounds seemed strange and distant. 

And then the lights went out.

When Roku awoke, the Old Matron from the front desk was looking down at her. The two whores were there also. One holder her head in pain.

"What do we do with her?" one whore asked, looking down at Roku with a look of distaste on her face. 

The Old Matron brought an unlit cigarette up to her lips and put it into place. She didn't light it – she just stared down at Roku, chewing on the end of it, like she was chewing on an idea.

"We've got enough problems," she finally decided with a nod, "leave her for the Nanpa Girls."



Hatchette Ch. 05



5. Nanpa Girls

Roku landed in the alley on her ass.

The whores hadn't given her a chance to dress. She stumbled, dirty and naked, across the blacktop and collapsed into heap in the center of the alley, the door to Mai's Brothel slamming shut behind her. Her head was still spinning from the truncheon crack across the mouth. She coughed and spit out a mouthful of blood. She could feel the swelling starting, locking up her left jaw. Roku felt around inside her mouth and checked the settings of her teeth. Lucky, nothing seemed loose. 

As the whores had physically evicted Roku from the Sento Room -- each grabbing and arm and each grabbing a leg -- she had had the presence of mind to hang on to her apron and her dress. Now she was alone, she pulled the dress over her head and down over her body. Her underwear was long lost, along with her shoes, and a ladder ran the full length of her left black stocking. She dug frantically through the pockets of the apron and was rewarded with the solid heft of her burner still tucked away in the main pocket. It was little comfort, but at least Roku was armed. It was something, at least.

The Old Matron and the whores had made there point: Roku was not wanted. Bringing down the wrath of the Ober Security Personnel... It was trouble a place like Mai's didn't need. The jack booted guards had spirited away Lady Le-En, taking the white town car with them. Roku was laying in the gutter of a stinking back alley, half naked, with the shit beaten out of her. She'd had better days, Roku thought. She'd come down to the brothel with Lady Le-En in hopes she could insinuate herself, somehow, into the Ober household, but she had only manged to get herself mistaken for a common whore. The guards hadn't looked at her twice -- Lady Le-En hadn't bothered to speak up. With the amount of force that Guard Commander had used to smash in Roku's head... Well, she wouldn't habe cared if she'd killed Roku. What was one more whore to her? And now Roku was left in the darkness, in her bare feet, to make her own way back to school... And who knows what lurks around these parts of town at night, praying on whatever happens to stumble by? The Old Matron had mentioned 'Nanpa Girls', but Roku had no idea what they were... But something in the evil glee with which the Old Matron had mentioned them... It made something inside Roku stomach sink.

There was nothing to do but walk. 

Roku started off in her stockinged feet down the alley. She adjusted her uniform, hoping for some semblance of modesty, but it was a lost cause. The dress was ripped. Unless she held it up, it fell away from her left breast... And she felt sore where Steely Dan had penetrated her -- a cold breeze blew between her legs. Altogether, she felt seriously hard done by, and she cursed Lady Le-En, and all the Ober Wives, for their fucking self-righteous superiority. Roku might be a trained agent -- a genetically engineered killer, but for all Lady Le-En knew, she was a innocent, honest girl of eighteen. To abandon such a creature to the terrors of the south-side at night... Simply because Lady Aru had shown Roku some kindness...

Fuck them all, Roku thought.

Roku stepped back out onto the main street off the alley. She looked down its length, left and right. All was quiet. All the building looked abandoned -- their cold, neoclassical facades showing now signs of life. The river was to the left and Roku started in that direction. She kept her hand firmly wrapped around the grip of her burner hidden in her apron pocket. She methodically scanned the street as she walked, pausing to glance back over her shoulder. The whole street was nothing but a world of dancing shadows -- dark nooks that could easily hide a thousand adversaries. Roku told herself to get a grip. It wasn't more than a mile to the river and she'd be back on the north side of town -- the new town, built by, and for, the Great Society. That was the safe part of the city where girls could walk at night without fear of assault. Roku had to smile. What could she possibly look like? How would people react when they saw Roku wander across the river, in her torn maid's uniform, with a swelling, bruised face. How long before the police were called? But Roku didn't fear the police, the police would mean a ride back to school. Perhaps Roku would have to sit through a dressing down by the Head Matron, but-

-What was that? Back, probably a quarter of a mile, Roku had heard a car cross across the main street. There was the sound of breaks. Roku stopped in her tracks and looked back through the dingy light of the meager streetlights. Slowly, she saw the car backing up, out of an alley, back onto the main street. Someone wanted a second look at Roku. There was nothing to do but keep walking. Roku turned away and started off again in her bare feet. Behind her, Roku could hear the car's engine revving to life. She shot a quick glance back and could see the car approaching. Roku quickened her pace, keeping her burner firmly hidden in her apron -- her off hand holding up the neckline of her dress. The car was closing, the powerful engine roaring away behind her. A gas burner, one of those old petroleum fueled engines. Big and powerful and dirty. Roku looked back one last time and the car was almost on top of her. The driver suddenly hit the breaks and slowed the car to match Roku's walking speed -- rolling behind her no more than twenty feet back.

Roku kept walking. She dared not look around again. She could feel every inch of her body tightening. If an attack came, she was ready. She would hear the slightest noise, turn and fire her burner. But the car just kept rolling behind her, keeping pace, its old, angry engine muttering slowly. Roku didn't alter her step -- it'd do no good to run. She kept walking toward the river, letting the car follow. She must have been quite the sight -- whoever was in the car was trying to figure out what exactly Roku was... Perhaps they were a good Samaritan, Roku laughed to herself, about to offer aid. No, Roku knew, that was a lie -- she was easy pray. Too easy, perhaps. The car was sizing her up, looking for some hidden danger. In a few moments they'd realize that there was nothing else to Roku -- she was nothing more than exactly what she looked like: A scared, lone girl lost in a bad part of town. When the car came to that conclusion, then they'd act, Roku thought, but for now car was following her slowly, licking its lips in anticipation.

"Hey, sweetie..." A voice came from behind Roku, she turned. It was a big car, a massive car, like nothing they'd built for a hundred years. There were four girls in it, dressed for the night clubs, their faces made up and their hair in wild styles. The girl in the front passenger seat was leaning out of the open window, calling to Roku. She was wearing a small, glittering mini dress and she drummed on the door of the car with her long, painted nails. 

Roku kept walking.

"Hey, sweetie, come here," the girl, hanging through the open car window, said. Roku looked back again. The girl was smiling, waving to Roku. "You need a lift, hon?" she asked. 

"I"m fine," Roku lied. There were two girls in the backseat who giggled. The driver was watching Roku closely from behind the car's massive steering wheel.

"Come on, let's give you a lift. It ain't safe for a pretty girl like you to be walking all alone in this part of town." The girls voice was slightly slurred and her pupils were wide. Res. "Come on, baby, you look like hell. Some one beat you up, huh? You get a little rough lovin'? Don't worry about it, we'll get you home, sweetie, come one..." More giggles from the backseat.

Roku stopped and the car came to a halt. Roku turned fully around to looked the car over. They hardly looked like a serious threat, Roku thought. Four party girls... And Roku did have her burner. The back door of the car opened, and a girl slipped out of the back. She had on the smallest tube top around her chest -- almost a strapless bra, pink shorts and platform shoes. Her hair was a wild array of neon lighting and hair spray. She was chew on gum, or something, and held the door open for Roku. Roku could see her reflection in the shiny finish of the massive car. For the first time she saw the large black eye circling her left eye, and the full extent of swelling in her jaw. She was a mess. Roku looked down at her bare feet and back up to the wild party girl holding the car door for her. Suddenly, Roku didn't care who these people were. They were transportation, that was all. What did Roku, the Hatchette, have to fear from four tiny, drunk party girls? Nothing, that was all. Roku wearily stepped forward and climbed into the back seat of the car. Before she knew it, the car was moving again, and the two girls in the back were almost sitting on top of her.

"Hey, beautiful, you tear your dress?" the one on Roku's left asked, fussing with the torn neck line.

"And look at those stocking," the one on the right said, running a hand down Roku's left leg. Suddenly, Roku was being pawed from every direction.

"Hey, were you live, sweetie?" the girl in the front passenger seat asked. Roku saw the driver adjusting her rear view mirror to get a better look at Roku.

"Saint Elenas," Roku said, mentioning the name of her school, but Roku now realized that the car wasn't going to be taking her home.

"You have a rough night, baby?" the girl to Roku's left was saying. She had pulled the neckline of Roku's dress free, and she pulled it down until Roku's left breast was exposed. Roku grabbed frantically at the fabric of her dress and tried to pull it back into place.

"And what happen to your panties?" the girl on the right said, her hand exploring under Roku's short dress. 

"No!" Roku cried.

"Don't worry, we'll get you home, sweetie," the girl in the front seat said, but she couldn't hold back an evil smile. The driver let out a soft titter as the two girls in the back tore forcefully at Roku's dress. What little fabric was left at the neckline gave way and both of Roku's breasts were suddenly exposed. Without a second of hesitation, the two girls had their mouths hungry at Roku's nipples, sucking and biting. Roku struggled to free herself, but the girl from the front seat raised to small, compact burner and pointed it at Roku. "Just relax," she said, holding the gun. Roku ceased in her struggling. The two girls lapped hungrily at Roku's full breasts, and hands pulled her thighs far apart. The girl with the gun looked down at Roku's exposed Jane and smiled hungrily. Fingers were exploring, probing. Roku could feel a warm building inside her again. 

How man times did that make it today? she thought. She had to concentrate, this was a deadly situation. That was a real burner. She couldn't let herself get swept away with lust... These must be the Nanpa Girls the Old Matron had spoken of, Roku realized. Yeah, a group of cruising rapists, that was just the sort of thing that would make an Old Matron smile. Fingers were inside Roku now, circling. Roku let out a soft moan, and instantly regretted it. The girl to Roku's right broke off from Roku's breast and passionately kissed Roku on the mouth. Roku didn't resist. The girl pulled down her tube top, revealing her small, firm breasts, and started feeding them to Roku. Roku sucked on them obediently, flicking the nipples with her tongue. The girl to Roku's left twisted in her seat, placing her mouth between Roku's legs, and started licking. Roku couldn't help sigh with pleasure as the girl's tongue began digging deep inside Roku. 

The girls to Roku's right pulled her breast from Roku's mouth and began to fumble at her pink shorts. Now she's going to feed Roku her pussy, Roku thought, and she was ready. She licked her lips in anticipation of the bitterness of the girl's taste.

"No, what are you doing?" the girl in the front seat, with the gun, asked.

"I want her to-" the topless girl in the pink shorts said. Her friend was still lost between Roku's legs. 

"Not now, you idiot!" the girl in the front said with surprising force. "When we're at the apartment." And the girl stopped unbuttoning her shorts, instead contenting herself to suck hungrily on Roku's breasts.

The car pulled to a halt. Roku felt it, but didn't see. The girl came up from between Roku's thighs and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She was a pretty blonde with delicate features. The second girl was pulling her tube top back into place as she opened her door. The girl in the front kept the burner pointed at Roku. Everyone was climbing out of the car. For a moment, Roku was left alone in the back seat, but a wave for burner told Roku to climb out.

Roku was naked besides her torn black stockings. She held her destroyed dress and her apron bundled up against her breasts. Out on the cold, dirty street, she felt small and exposed. The car had stopped in front of an old, rundown apartment building, obviously still on the south-side of town. There wasn't another soul to be seen. One of the girls from the back seat produced a blanket from the trunk and she wrapped it around Roku. Two girls, on either side of Roku, took an arm and led her towards the apartment building's main doors. They had probably once been glass, but now they were just sheets of particle board, heavily graffitied. The lobby smelled like urine. A few bundled figures lay here and there spread out on the floor. The forms stirred as the Nanpa Girls entered with Roku, but no one moved from their spot in the lobby. The Nanpa Girls ignored the transients and lead Roku to the stairs. They climbed, three stories, and came to a dirty, half broken door.

Inside it was no nicer. It was an apartment, with a kitchen, but it was obvious that no one had lived there for many years. The windows were broken and the weather was inside -- the smell of mold almost overpowering. There was a soggy, half collapsed couch in the living room, and a bare mattress on the floor in the center of the bedroom. It was a hellhole and Roku began to shiver -- half from the cold, and half from anticipation of the reason she had been brought there. 

"Down," someone behind Roku's back said, and pulled the blanket suddenly off Roku. She stood there naked, her torn dress and apron in her hands. One of the girls, the one with the gun, took her things from her and threw them up against the couch. "Down!" she repeated, and pushed down on Roku's bare shoulder. Her knees landing in to soggy wet mold of the carpet and she looked up into the barrel of the small gun.

Things had suddenly taken a serious turn for the worse, Roku realized. This wasn't the sort of place that young, naked girls ever came home from. Roku's body shivered, but inside a calm came over her. Now was the time for violence, she understood. She would have to act, reach for her burner. For when the Nanpas girls were done with her... Well, Roku had seen the vidcasts of bodies pulled out of the river... All pink and bloated... In the morning, that was going to be her. 

But Roku paused. Something about the situation made Roku think. Her life was in serious danger, yes, these four girls were armed and dangerous. They planned to rape Roku and murder her. But there was something... Something about the whole situation that Roku sensed. She was quite ready to act. She would bide her time for a few minutes longer. It might mean humiliation, it might mean injury, but there was always that Hatchette coolness about Roku, that curiosity even in the face of death. In one more minute she'd make her move, but for now...

"Fuck!" the girl in the pink shorts cursed, pulling her top off once again. "Are we gonna do this?" She began to pop open the buttons of her pink shorts. "Now? You fucking bitch," She turned to the girl with the gun, "can she suck it now?" 

"Oh, yeah," the girl with the gun said casually, lifting up her mini dress, "she can suck us all now." She was pulling down her panties. It took a second for Roku to realize what was happening -- what was wrong with the whole situation. When the pink shorts dropped -- when the panties under the mini dress came down -- things were out of place. Erect fingers shot out from groins and pointed at Roku. The other two girls were lifting their dresses too, and they were the same: the fleshy members, pink and hard. A shaft that ballooned slightly at the end with a single small opening. Each of the Nanpa girls stroked at their appendage as they stepped in closer to Roku.

The Nanpa Girls weren't girls, they were boys!

Roku regarded the four penises at eye level with total and complete horror. Roku was a Hatchette, yes, tasked with hunting down and destroy men, but she'd never actually seen a male before. The charts, the diagrams from Hatchette training were woefully inadequate. Seconds earlier, regardless of the danger, Roku would have sworn on her life that the four girls from the car were full blooded females. Nothing about them, in the car... The breasts, the hands, the figures, the faces... Nothing about them had given Roku any indication that they were male. Now Roku had her answer -- now she understood what it was about situation that had bothered her. Now she could act. 

"Seen one of these before?" the girl/boy with the gun asked. Roku looked up from his penis to the gun. The excited one, the Nampa girl who'd been wearing the pink shorts, stepped forward impatiently and thrust his penis into Roku's mouth. Roku gagged. A spasm of pain rocked through her body from her swollen, locked jaw. With her cock in Roku's mouth, the Nanpa girl started pumping back and forth, holding Roku's head firm. Roku didn't resist. The girl with the gun was still holding it -- both the gun and her cock. Roku would have to wait for her moment. 

The penis moved back and forth in Roku's mouth, chocking her as the girl thrust it down Roku's throat. After a dozen or so thrusts, the Nanpa Girl pulled it out and rubbed it against Roku's face. "Yeah, suck it, lick it," She was muttering, playing with his tight breasts. Roku stuck out her tongue at let her run her cock over it. The Nanpa Girl moaned with joy. She reached between her legs and pulled forward the small sack that dangled from the rear of her penis. This she pushed into Roku's mouth, telling Roku to "suck my balls, you slut..."

"I gonna cum!" She finally said, after a minute or so more, thrusting into Roku's face. Roku was starting to get the hang of it -- to relax and let the penis slide down her throat. The girl pulled out her cock of Roku's mouth and let it erupted in a stream of white cum across Roku's lips and bruised cheek. Roku reflexively flinched away from the ejaculation and got the last of the cum in her left ear -- sticking to her hair. "I wanta fuck her ass..." the Nanpa Girl continued, reaching around to grab at Roku's rear. She showed no signs that her climax had satisfied her at all.

"You're done..." the girl with the gun said, stepping forward, "back of the line," she gestured back, behind the others, with the gun. She positioned himself in front of Roku and began to feed her dick into Roku's mouth. 

Roku's moment had come. As the girl with the gun positioned himself, thrusting out her manhood, Roku came up with a fist. The blow landed solidly between the Nanpa Girl's legs. At the same moment, Roku thrust forward with her forehead, into the girl's member, buckling it under the force of the blow. Not unexpectedly, the Nanpa girl doubled over and fell to the floor. Roku dropped back onto her rear, and rolled. The other Nanpa Girls were dangerously close, but they had all been completely taken by surprise by Roku's maneuver. Before the could react, Roku was fumbling amongst the rags that had once been her maid's uniform. Her apron, the front pocket, the burner, and she was on her feet. The first arch of plasma hit the Nanpa Girl who'd driven the car to the apartment. She had pendulous, fake breasts, and the left one boiled and exploded where the plasma bolt cut into her. 




Hatchette Ch. 05-10



**Non-sex chapters. Skip to Chapter 11 for the next erotic scene. Here for completeness, only.**

6. Lt. Zee

Lieutenant Zee held a small, purple, lace-fringed handkerchief over her mouth and nose as she stepped into the decrepit, fifthly apartment. Three bodies -- one decapitated -- lay sprawled in the fetid damp of the apartment's rotten carpet. Lt. Zee coughed and choked back on the rising vomit in the back of her throat. She'd need a moment, she told herself, a moment to take it all in. Roku sat on a disgusting, dank couch -- naked except for a pair of torn black stockings -- a Paramedic slowing waving an anti-inflammatory wand in front of her chin. A Evidence Tech took a sample of something out of Roku's hair with a swab. 

It was a fucking blood bath.

Zee stepped back out of the apartment, into the hall, and let the retches come. She doubled over to puke, but manged to hold her dinner down. She'd never seen a scene like that before -- not ever in the ten years she had been on the force. No agent had ever killed three... Oh God, she'd have to go and check... She'd have to go back inside... If any of the dead were actually female... Zee sucked in a large lung full of air and stepped back into the apartment -- the handkerchief over her nose once again.

A quick glance and she could see that the three corpses were male -- tiny, shriveled, hairless penises between their sprawled legs. Another first for Lt. Zee: She had never see a real make before -- never seen a penis. That was what all the fuss was about? She thought. That little thing? The Hatchette program was in its infancy. Roku, and the other eleven girls were the first Hatchettes the government had trained, and Roku was the first of the Hatchettes to show results. It was a feather in Roku's -- and Lt. Zee's -- cap: The dead Dicks. Good news like this would be well received high up in the Commissariat.

"Good job, Roku," Zee said though her handkerchief and her hand. Roku looked up in shock -- surprise. Roku was on edge, still hyper-adrenal, Zee realized. Her bionics, her conditioning, were still in control. Best not to make any sudden moves, Zee thought, or she'll snap my neck without thinking. Hatchettes were dangerous things -- combat machines built into the body of teenage girls. The program had been controversial from the start: The use of young girls. But to be one hundred perfect effective, the conditioning had to begin before puberty. And young minds were far easier to mold... 

...But the look in Roku's eyes: The fear, the horror. What had she done? What had Lt. Zee made her do? For a moment, Zee felt a terrible guilt building up deep inside of her. What was Roku? Eighteen? Physically conditioned, well armed, but still a child...

...It was a war, Zee reminded herself. It was us or them. Roku was a warrior. She had killed the enemy. Give the chance, they would have undoubtedly killed her and gone on to do other unspeakable acts of terrorism. Roku should be proud of her service to the Great Society. Roku was a hero. 

"Three Dicks," Zee observed, looking down at the corpses. She took in another deep breath and returned the handkerchief to her pocket. "All on your own."

"Four," Roku corrected. Zee turned and saw the body in the bedroom -- laying face down on the bright crimson, bloodstained mattress.

"Fuck. Four..." That rattled Lt. Zee just that little bit more. She took a pocket tablet and a stylus out of her jacket and turned it on, her fingers shaking. "This have anything to do with the Obers?"

"No." Roku was shaking too. It was dank and cold in the room and she was naked. "I mean, I was..."

"Yes?"

"Lady Le-En. The young wife, you know about her?"

"Yeah, the Res-head."

"Right." The Paramedic and the Evidence Tech were done. There was a coarse, wool blanket on the couch next to Roku and she pulled it up around her shoulders. "She brought me down here, to a brothel..."

"You're kidding?" Zee said, writing in shorthand on the tablet. "She know these Dicks?"

"No." Roku shook her head. "That was later, after the Ober Guards came for Le-En."

"What? Who came?"

"Some of the black suited guards, from the Manor. They came to the brothel and pulled Lady Le-En out. One gave me this," andR oku pointed to the fading bruise over her eye, "and left me behind. That's when these..." Roku struggled for the correct gender for her noun, "men picked me up."

"They had nothing to do with this brothel?" Zee asked.

"No... I mean, I don't think so..." Roku gave Lt. Zee a pained, baffled look. "But then..." and Roku's voice trailed of.

Lieutenant Zee was going to have to let in a breath of the fetid apartment. She couldn't hold her breath forever -- she was turning blue. She breathed out and sucked in a lung full. The stench of the apartment was as bad as she had expected. The mildew mixing with the smell of burnt flesh. Instantly, Zee felt the bile rising in her throat. She coughed and choked it down, her eyes watering.

Lt. Zee was in her mid-thirties. She wore a dark, business-like suit with heels and a silk, wide collared shirt. Nothing in her face gave a hint to her age, with girlish features and her dark hair pulled back, leaving bangs almost down over her eyes. She had a full figure, trending to fat, with full, heavy breasts and long voluptuous legs. She had once been athletic, in her youth, but the slow pace of police work, and the long hours had taken its toll on her body. Zee had handled Roku since she'd graduated from Hatchette training, hardly three months before. Lt. Zee like Roku, but the sight of Roku's tight, pert frame had always made Zee uncomfortable. Aroused, perhaps, but also nostalgic for the figure she had once had. Even in that apartment -- even with the bodies of four dead Dicks laying around her -- the sight of Roku's legs topped by the dark, black bush of her Jane caught Zee's attention. Roku looked like hell, beaten and abused, Zee thought, but also, in a way, she had an afterglow about her -- like she'd spent the night in rough lovemaking, and was sticky with sweat from the exertion. How close to the truth she was, Lt. Zee didn't know, but she could sense the musk of sexual satisfaction about Roku, and it teased her. It made her realize how long unsatisfied her own desires had gone, and how long it'd been since she come to a neighborhood like this one, in search of the forbidden -- in search of the lowest of the low, something to satisfy her deepest, darkest carnal desires... 

"What happened at this brothel?" Zee asked.

"There were these two girls -- whores... And a phallus..."

"Real girls? Not-" and Zee motioned towards a corpse.

"No, real. I mean, I think... But then I thought these were..." and Roku shuddered.

"But a fake..."

"Yes," Roku answered quickly, "Steely Dan." Lt. Zee felt her stomach jump. The thought of Roku's legs spread wide, with a dildo between them... "But then the Guards came, and the whores tossed me out, and there was nothing for me to do but walk, so I started towards the river when these four came along in an old car. Real old, gas burner. It must still be downstairs. They offered me a ride and I took it. Why, I'm not sure. One of them was armed and they brought me here, where they pulled them out... That was the first I knew... That they were... One forced his... Into my mouth and... Pulled out and..." she touched her cheek. "The second in line was the one with the gun. He didn't get a chance and I reached for my burner... The rest you can see..."

Lt. Zee stopped tapping at her tablet, mortified. It was inconceivable. Grotesque. She'd never heard a story like it. She was simultaneously stimulated and horrified. To have four men abduct and rape you... Well, people would pay top dollar to role-play that sort of thing, in the seedier brothels, on the wrong side of the river. But this wasn't a fantasy -- Roku hadn't been sucking on anything rubber. And to cum on her face... It was the most vile thing Zee could imagine... She licked her lips involuntarily at the very idea...

The Paramedic returned and handed Roku a set of scrubs wrapped in plastic. Roku stood up and shuffled off the blanket, tearing open the bag of clothes. Lt. Zee suddenly felt she was intruding and stepped away to look over the corpses, their yellowing flesh pallid in the flash of the evidence technician's camera flashes.

They wouldn't know until the lab tests came back, but they all seemed to be level 3 transsexuals -- the engineered kind, with the 'Z' chromosome. Not simply men converted to look like women, but almost a third sex: Women with male genitalia... But that was deceiving -- they were still men inside -- in their hearts... Vile, predatory and murderous... Like all men, converted or not. A threat to everything good and honest in world. 

The Dicks were becoming bolder and more aggressive. This little cell, right here; these four males, Zee thought, were operating with autonomy -- praying on young girls. Was this a renegade cell? Or was this now Dick policy? Gang rape as terrorism? Lt. Zee shuddered. Thank the Holy Matron they stumbled on Roku -- a Hatchette -- and not some other young girl...

"Come on, I'll give you a lift back to school," Zee said when Roku was dressed in the pale blue scrubs. Dressed, Roku seemed small and vulnerable -- the victim of a crime once again, not the aggressor. Roku followed Zee out of the apartment and up the stairs, not down. Lt. Zee's Police VTOL was parked on the roof, waiting, its butterfly doors open like two embracing arms.

"Tomorrow, I'll need a full debrief on the Ober situation," Lt. Zee said, climbing into the pilot's seat, pulling her door down and closed. Roku slipped quickly into the passenger seat, buckling herself in.

"You think there's some connection, don't you?" Roku said as the VTOL was lifting off the rooftop, the thunder of jets pushing away from the derelict neighborhood below them.

"I don't know what to think..." Lt. Zee replied, watching her gauges.

"But there was a reason that you placed me on the staff at the Manor, no? You suspected something? And now these four Dicks..."

"What the Commissariat suspects or doesn't suspect is none of your concern, " Zee said maternally. "Or mine, for that matter. If there's any connection between these Dicks and the Ober wives... Well, reports are filed and Commissars read them. That's all I can say."

"I just don't understand," Roku continued, looking down at the city below. They were amongst the skyscrapers now, the needles of steel cutting into the air. Two more minutes and they'd be out in the suburbs, flying over the Ober Mansion and the School grounds. "Aren't they one in the same thing -- the Ober wives and the Commissariat? Lady Aru -- isn't she First Commissar?"

"Not yet," Zee said dryly.

"The Commissariat spies on it's own members?" Roku turned and looked at the side of Lt. Zee's face. Zee was focused on her flying, but stole a quick, comforting smile for Roku.

"Don't concern yourself with politics, Roku," Zee said. "You'll twist yourself in a knot. What you did today -- the four Dicks -- that was some good work. Remember that -- focus on your duty. Hatchettes find and bag Dicks, that's your mission. Focus on that and let the politics work themselves out. Don't forget who the real enemy is, Roku. Out there," Zee glanced up at the sky, raising a finger, "they're waiting. Waiting for us to make a mistake, to drop our guard. That's where you come in, Roku, to be our eternal, vigilant guardian -- The Great Society's protector. And you proved your worth today, Roku. You proved your worth a thousand times over..."

Lt. Zee, and Roku, fell into silence.

The VTOL put down just outside the school's gym and Roku jumped free from the craft. A moment later, Lt. Zee was lifting off again, kicking up a cloud of dirt around Roku. Roku shielded her eyes and sprinted into the school's side door. All was quiet, dark. She took the side stairs that brought her out in the dormitories. A minute later she was at her bunk, slipping out of the hospital scrubs.

Pelli stirred on the top bunk as Roku slid, naked, into the bottom one. Roku pulled up the sheets and laid her head down on the pillow. Despite all the action, all the horror, Roku knew that sleep would not evade her. She was tired, body and soul. Dog tired. Too tired to think.

"What time do you call this?" Pelli said, poking her head over the side of her bunk. Roku didn't move, not even to open her eyes.

"Go to sleep," Roku said.

"You're gonna pretend you were working this late?" Pelli chuckled.

"I said: Go to sleep."

"Alright..." Pelli's head vanished, "if that's the way you want it. I just hope you had a good time..."

Roku could feel the weirdness consuming her -- sleep rapidly approaching. No, she hadn't had a good time, she remembered thinking just as unconsciousness took hold. 

Not a good time at all.

7. Damage Control

Roku was in Social Studies the next day, casually ignoring the Matron's lecture -- working on her report for Lt. Zee -- when the door to the classroom swung open. It the the Head Matron -- an animal even older and more desiccated than all the other Matrons put together -- who stepped into the room and spoke quickly and quietly to Roku's teacher. The Social Studies Matron seemed annoyed but nodded her approval. With that, the Head Matron returned back out the door. Roku returned her attention back to her tablet.

"Roku!" the Matron yelled suddenly, making Roku jump. "In the hall!" she said firmly. Roku could see that the classroom door had not quiet closed and the Head Matron was waiting in it, watching.

"Yes, Matron," Roku said, sliding her tablet away in her folio. She left it by her chair and clicked on her heels across the floor of the classroom. At the door she stepped through, the Head Matron waiting, looking Roku over with a suspicious air.

"Roku?" she asked when the door had closed.

"Yes, Matron," Roku tried to look humble -- at the floor.

"You have a visitor," the Head Matron announced, as if it was the height of rudeness for Roku to dare be visited by anyone.

"A visitor?" Roku asked. It must be Lt. Zee, but she would never... She would never risk Roku's cover...

"In the Grand Hall," the Head Matron turned with annoyance, "follow me," she commanded.

Roku followed, teetering on her heels. She fiddled at the waist of her tiny skirt, attempting to lower it just a little. She'd feel like a fool to have Lt. Zee see her in her school uniform. It was just... Well, after yesterday -- after the four Dicks. To be dressed like a Matron's sex toy... Roku was already blushing.

But the tall figure in the bright turquoise gown, waiting in the Grand Hall, was not Lt. Zee. Flanked by leather clad guards, Lady Aru waited in the Hall for Roku's arrival with Lady Le-En sprawled casually on a settee beside her. Roku almost laughed in surprise. It was absolutely the last soul Roku expected to see.

Lady Aru looked half royalty/half martian in the long, flowing, high collared gown, with the neckline plunging, exposing the inner curves of those breasts, with the same gravity defying firmness that Roku had noted the evening before. She looked dressed for a evening gala, a ball, but Roku suspected that the air of regality was all part of Lady Aru's everyday business attire. Dress for the job you want, they say, and if you want to be queen... Like the body underneath, everything about Lady Aru spoke power, persuasion. Command.

But if Lady Aru's clothes spoke volumes about her, what did Roku's clothes say about her? Dressed in her tall heels; white socks up and over the knees; tiny plaid skirt, hardly hiding her underwear; tight shirt knotted under her breasts to reveal her bare midriff; her hair up in pigtails. Roku blushed, but the second Lady Aru laid eyes on her... 

Whatever had happened the night before -- between Lady Aru and Roku in the Lady's bedroom -- had been real, Roku realized at that moment. That look... As quick as it appeared it vanished -- Lady Aru was nothing if not in complete control of her emotions -- but Roku had seen it. Definitely seen it. There had been a fire. Desire. Roku respectfully lowered her eyes -- as was expected when meeting such a dignitary, but she could feel a red warmth rising to her cheeks as she stood there under the gaze of Lady Aru. If Roku had been blushing before, she could only imagine what bright shades of pink she was turning now.

"Thank you, Matron," Lady Aru said with a dismissive wave. The Head Matron, visibly biting down on her pride, gave Lady Aru a small, respectful bow and quickly scuttled from the Grand Hall. "Roku, is it?" Lady Aru said.

"Yes, Ma'am," Roku said with a small curtsy. A flash of cleavage, the flip of the pony tails.

"This..." and Lady Aru let out a strained laugh, searching for words. "I hardly no where to begin... As I understand it. From my security personal and my dear wife..." she gestured to the sprawled figure of Lady Le-En, still dressed in white, but this time in tennis t-shirt and shorts. By the bored, pissed-off vibe Lady Le-En was projecting, it was obvious that she had not come to the Hall that day willingly. Like a sulking child being forced to own up to some mistake, she was throwing off an attitude of indifference and hoping it played as smoldering rebellion. "...that -- err, last evening -- well, it's just horrible... I don't know what to say... That my dear wife went down town to... Shell we say... A certain type of business... Not alone, with less than venerable ideas..."

Lady Le-En let out a disgusted groan. 

"...And that you accompanied... And when, on my orders, my bodyguards arrived... At this place... To repatriate my lovely wife, for her own safety..." Lady Aru swallowed on her words. "That you were mistaken for someone of ill fame and... Struck about the head and left..."

She was apologizing. It took Roku a few seconds to realize it. Apologies obviously didn't come easily to Lady Aru. It hadn't accrued to Roku before, all the business with the Dicks had distracted her, but the scandal... If the events of last night ever made it to the vidcasts... Phallus Palaces, Ober Wives, under-aged girls. Oh, it was a fucking disaster. No wonder Lady Aru had come in person to apologize to Roku. This was one hell of a mess she had to clean up. This could cost her her seat in the Commissariat... Just the whiff of scandal... 

Finger the fucking Matron!

Instantly, Roku realized the hold she now had over the Ober Wives. What would they do, what would the pay to keep this story out of the vidcasts? Insinuate yourself into the Ober household, Lt. Zee had commanded, but this was something else! Something else, indeed. Roku tried not to let what she was thinking show on her face, but it was hard. She looked up and fixed Lady Aru with an attentive, obedient smile.

"You must accept my apology, Roku," Lady Aru lay a hand on Roku's shoulder in a stilted, comforting gesture. "If my security personal had understood the situation... They would have never... I am so sorry you were treated so shabbily. The responsibility is all mine. Lady Le-En should have never... And then to..." Lady Aru trailed off into silence. She had to, there was so little that could be said. "Your safety is what should have been the major consideration here..." she asked feebly.

"I made it back to school safely," Roku lied. Did Lady Aru know about the Dicks? Roku scanned her features for any hint. Nothing. She was either unaware of what fate had truly befallen Roku, or unaware of how the situation had exactly resolved itself. No, there was no hint in Lady Aru's expression, nothing to indicate that she knew anything about the Nanpa Girls. But Roku would need more proof that just Lady Aru's cold, patrician visage to lay Lt. Zee suspicions to rest. She was a politician, after all -- a professional liar.




Hatchette Ch. 05-10



"Thank the Holy Matron!" Lady Aru smiled, looking around at the lather clad guards. They smiled obediently in unison. Roku then realized that the one standing to Lady Aru's right was the Commander from the brothel -- the woman so quick with the truncheon. They'd all been forced to come and be contrite, Roku thought, everyone who'd fucked things up so completely last night. 

"She's fine, I've got a hangover, end of fucking story," Lady Le-En interrupted angrily, sitting up on the settee. "Can we go now? I'm late for my lesson..."

"Damn it!" Lady Aru said out of the corner of her mouth -- almost loosing her composure. She turned back to Roku and fixed her with a wide, fake grin. "You must forgive Lady Le-En... For everything. She's headstrong and impetuous, but she means well. When she drinks she..."

She was laying it on thick, Roku smiled, she must really see a danger -- in what Roku knows. This must be almost like groveling to someone as noble as Lady Aru.

"I-I didn't presume..." Roku stuttered, trying to look and sound like someone who knew their place.

"No, no!" Lady Aru tried to correct. "I didn't mean to imply..." Lady Aru trailed off yet again. Roku could hear her curse under her breath. "Le-En!" Lady Aru suddenly commanded, "apologize to the young girl!" Lady Le-En responded with a horrified glare. "I said apologize!"

"Fuck her!" Lady Le-En said, jumping to her feet.

"Damn you!" Lady Aru cursed through gritted teeth. "You'll apologize to this girl, or its back to rehab!" Lady Aru threatened. By the look on Le-En's face, that has a horrible alternative. "Apologize, now!"

After a long, sulking, bleary-eyed stare, Lady Le-En said in a monotone, "I'm sorry I took you downtown... I'm sorry you got left behind... I'm glad you made it home okay..."

It was the sorriest excuse for an apology Roku had ever heard, but she curtsied to Lady Le-En respectfully and let her head hang.

"There! Was that so hard?" Lady Aru asked, but Lady Le-En was already storming out of the Hall. She had the large, oak doors open before Lady Aru could finish her sentence. With a wave, Lady Aru sent the two guards in pursuit.

Alone now, Lady Aru stepped forward and put a hand under Roku's lowered chin. She lifted Roku's face up and looked directly into her eyes. Roku felt her stomach tighten, looking up into Lady Aru's unworldly beauty.

"There's a party, this evening..." Lady Aru smiled. Roku smiled back. "Nothing fancy... Just some friends... But there's a lot we need to discuss -- about your future. When school is over... I foresee great things for you, Roku. Great things, if you can remember who you friends are..." Lady Aru let go of Roku's chin and turned for the door. "Shell we say around eight, then? I'll send a car..." she said, back over her shoulder. Roku didn't answer. 

And like that the perfect statue that was Lady Aru was gone. 

Roku was left standing on her own in the Grand Hall, blinking. Oh, the Holy Matron! A party? Tonight? Roku panicked. What could she possibly wear?

8 Bettie Page

Roku had no real clothes that fit her -- nothing that even came close to evening wear. The Hatchette genetic treatments had totally altered her physically dimensions. She was centimeters taller than she had been the last time she'd been clothes shopping, and she now carried at lest an extra ten kilos of muscle. With life oscillating between the uniform she wore for school and the uniform she wore for work, there had very little reason to update her civilian attire. She'd have to go shopping -- she couldn't make a fool of herself showing up at a Commissariat Party in knee-high socks. No, she'd need a gown. Something tasteful, but sexy. There were stores down on the river-walk that would have exactly what Roku needed... She would have to skip class and take the trolley into town. The last class of the day was Calisthenics -- fuck, Roku hated to miss The Mosh, but there'd be no time to get into town and back before eight that evening, otherwise. 

Oh, the sacrifices Roku made for her mission.

Roku was back in Social Studies just in time to pick up her folio and the bell to dismiss everyone. Now committed to skipping class, Roku had only last issue to face: What was she going to use for money?

Roku has a little stashed away -- her wages from the Ober Mansion -- but nothing like the price of the sort of dress that Roku was thinking about. She could put a call into Lt. Zee. There were expense accounts for just this sort of thing. But the paperwork -- the forms in triplicate -- it'd be next Tuesday before the funds actually came through. No, Roku didn't have that kind of time, she needed some cash quick. She hated to do it, but she knew where Pelli kept her bundle... It wouldn't be much, but paired with Roku's money... She might just get by.

Roku went upstairs and into the dormitory. Calisthenics was just beginning, and the long room of bunks -- usually so noisy and wild -- was eerily quiet. Roku opened her locker and looked through the clothes she did have. She found a old pair of cutoff jeans and a bright red t-shirt. She quickly shook off her school clothes and slipped into the shorts. They were embarrassedly tight, but they did button. In fact, looking at herself in the mirror inside her locker, she looked pretty good. With the t-shirt on she was all curves in all the right places. She put her feet into a pair of dirty flip-flops and she was dressed, such as it was. She dug under her pillow and came up with her roll of cash. This she slipped into her pocket, and she closed up her locker. Next door was Pelli's, and Roku opened it up. At the bottom was a footlocker, where Roku knew that Pelli kept her money. Out came the box and Roku fiddled with the latches. They had a combination, but it only took Roku five seconds to bypass, and she had the footlocker open.

Under some old magazines Roku found the plastic container. Inside was a small roll of bills. Roku counted it out. Two hundred. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. With Roku's one hundred and fifty she'd be able to get something -- something that would hold Lady Aru's attention at the Party. Less, in this case, might actually be more, Roku thought. That look in Lady Aru's eye, Roku remembered, when Roku had stepped into the Grand Hall. Lady Aru had liked what she'd seen.

If Roku could become Lady' Aru's lover... Well, with regard to her mission... The opportunities for intelligence gathering alone -- pillow-talk with someone as powerful as like Lady Aru... But the idea excited Roku above and apart from her mission... That amazing body... Just the sight of it electrified Roku. The thought of running her hands over its firmness, spread out in all its glory before her; kissing Lady Aru's perfect mouth; her legs apart, the sight of that lily tattoo; kissing Lady Aru between her legs, Roku sinking her tongue deep inside her. Never before had Roku wanted another woman -- not as she wanted Lady Aru. Sex, yes, but never such an all-consuming lust... And that Lady Aru, so obviously, wanted Roku in the same fashion... Well, Roku wanted to purchase the most stunning dress that any woman had even worn -- drive Lady Aru to the edge of desire just imagining Roku's body underneath it. Roku would tease her, deny her, then later in the evening, when they were finally alone, Lady Aru would remove it slowly, softly caressing Roku's body as the dress fell...

Roku was looking down into Pelli footlocker as she fantasied, when something in the locker caught her eye -- brought her back to reality. The old magazines that were in the locker -- under which the money had been hidden -- Roku finally focused in on one of the covers. The girl on it looked like Roku. For a moment, Roku thought it really was her -- some computer mocked-up image -- but as she picked up the magazine and looked at it closer, she realized that it was impossibly old. Not computer generated. The magazine was from before the War, but the woman on the cover bore a striking resemblance to Roku. Older, perhaps, with a different hairstyle and less -- what did they used to call it? -- less oriental features, but the firm body and the shape of her face... The woman was wearing stockings, a black bra. panties, tall pumps, and she was holding a riding crop in her hands. The sultry look in her eyes -- the bright red snarl of her lips. Roku leafed through the magazine and every page was glossy black-and-white photographs of the woman -- spanking other women; being spanked herself; topless; nude; tied up wearing long black gloves; dressed in gowns centuries out of style. 

It was disquieting experience -- to see yourself in ancient photographs. It was Roku, but not Roku. Roku imagined herself, last night, in the Sento Room, taking Steely Dan from behind, and realized that she would not have looked out of place in the magazine she was holding. Roku searched through the pile, looking at the next magazine and the next one. They all contained pictures of the same woman -- various publications, but she was in them all. 

Where had Pelli gotten such magazines? Most publications from before the War had been destroyed along with the last man on earth, but perhaps since the magazine only depicted women... Roku could imagine some Commissar, somewhere, with a collection of pre-war lesbian literature. But for Pelli to have it? The resemblance was uncanny nd Roku realized that Pelli had quiet a collection. A dozen magazines, at least. Roku felt something in her stomach tighten. Was this all about Roku? Was this all part of some strange crush Pelli had on Roku? 

Roku found a magazine at the bottom of the stack dedicated to a single lay out: The woman, dressed in a maid's uniform not unlike Roku's, helping a large breasted woman dress -- first in a corset, and later on in a long, sequined purple gown. 

The feeling of deja vu sent a shiver down Roku's spine.

The sight of the woman in her laced apron, black stocking and high heels... She was Roku. She looked exactly like Roku, a hundred years before Roku was even born. Roku quickly gathered together the magazines and placed them back in the footlocker, slamming it shut. She pushed the whole thing back into Pelli's closet and closed the door with a slam. Unable to shake the crawling creeps dancing across her skin, she sprinted down the backstairs of the dormitory and out the school's side door. Two minutes later, she out in the open, in front of the school's main gate, looking up and winding country lane, waiting for the trolley.

Pelli was in love with Roku, Roku realized that. But the weight of that truth could hardly make it to the forefront of Roku's mind with the otherworldliness of those magazines holding her attention. It was like some science fiction vidcast, and not a good one. Next Roku would teleport back in time to pre-Great Society Earth, to pose for those photographs, living out a sad life, knowing all the horrors the future really held. Roku laughed. That made her feel better. She'd got a scare, that was all. The truth of it -- she realize as the trolley rumbled around the corner -- wasn't that the woman in the magazines looked like Roku, it was that Roku looked like the woman in the magazines. 

Roku had been born in a test tube. Like everyone else, she had been grown from a fetus in an ex-utero bank. She had no parents in the traditional sense -- there being no males to father children. Genetically, she was one of three million standardized and approved templates. With the Earth's population at six billion, that meant that Roku was one of at least two thousand women on the planet with Roku's exact face. Roku had never met another Roku, the odds were against it, but she knew that they were out there, somewhere on the globe. Perhaps the woman in the magazine had been one of the original DNA donors? The timing might be right, but no one probably knew -- such detail having been lost to mists of history -- but without sexual reproduction, the earth's stock of characters was static. It was foolish for Roku to be frightened simply by seeing an image of someone with her appearance. A girl at school was the same genetic pattern as the woman who announced the news on channel 132. It was strange, but a simple fact of life. No big deal. 

But that Pelli had the collection of magazines -- now that was interesting. That implied something. As Roku climbed aboard the trolley and paid her fare, she began to feel a horrible regret at stealing Pelli money. If Pelli was collecting those magazines because the woman looked like Roku... Well, suddenly all those delicious moments in The Mosh with Pelli suddenly took on an extra meaning. And here Roku was stealing money from her. It was an awful thing to have done, if Pelli was in love with Roku or not, but Roku would pay her back. She'd send it an expense report to Lt. Zee, and in two or three weeks, Roku could return the money.

Roku watched the countryside roll by outside the trolley. If Pelli had feelings for Roku.. Well, Pelli wasn't keeping what happened in The Most strictly in the showers -- she was broking the rules. Roku smiled. Roku knew the feeling, she was prone to break that particular rule herself, especially about Pelli... And now Roku knew. When Pelli knew, they wouldn't have to pretend anymore -- they could get down to business and start breaking the rules together...

That was going to be fun.

9. Scene of the Crime

Roku couldn't get those old magazines out of her head.

They had more significance to Roku than just Pelli's girl school crush. It was something that Roku had never really thought about before: Those magazine had been manufactured by and for men. Before the war, yes, but they were an insight into the male psyche -- that men, like women, fantasize about sex. Roku's Hatchette training made her predisposed to think of men as animals -- base creatures that used sex as a weapon, fornicate and dominate -- but the fantasies depicted in those magazines... Well, they were so much more detailed that just female subjugation. That was obviously a factor, yes -- the woman in the magazines was often tired up, gagged, paddled on her rear -- but the intricacies of the costumes, the woman often taking a dominant posture... It made Roku realize that the male animal was, perhaps, a lot more complicated that she'd been led to believe -- far more complex than the simple, murdering rapists that she'd encountered last night.

You catch more flies with honey, Roku was thinking...

The Trolley reached the Town Square and Roku disembarked. She walked the short distance to the river-walk where a long line of small boutiques, galleries, bookshops and bistros faced onto the river. Across the river was the desolation of the south-side, but north of the river, it was all high-end. Roku got lucky in the first boutique she tried. The young woman behind the counter was more than helpful. Taking one look at Roku in her cutoffs and t-shirt, she vanished in the back of the store and returned with a shimmering, silver mini dress. Roku pulled her t-shirt off right in the middle of the store -- much to the attendant's pleasure -- and slipped the dress on. It was perfect. It seemed strapless, but the straps were make of invisible plastic. With a simple necklace, Roku would look like she was wearing liquid silver. It was stunning, sexy, and only three hundred. Roku couldn't have hoped for more. She took off the dress, pulled her t-shirt back on, and paid the attendant. She left the store with a small, wide box under her arm, her afternoon's mission quickly accomplished.

Roku was in no hurry to get back to school, so she ambled down the river-walk and did a little window shopping. She passed more boutiques, a coffee shop with tables spilling out onto the sidewalk, an electronics store selling high-end, custom tablets, and an old second-hand bookstore, specializing in pre-war literature. The contents of the magazines in Pelli's locker came rushing back into Roku's mind. She peered through the window at the dusty display and saw books and magazines not unlike the one's Pelli had had in her locker. Roku stepped into the store. A few minutes of talking to the proprietor, and Roku came to realize that trade in such pre-war collectibles was brisk. The proprietor showed Roku a display case of similar, mint-condition magazines in the same genre as Pelli's. Nothing involving men, of course, and nothing overtly explicit -- at least not on the covers. The old woman who ran the bookstore took relish in discussing the collectibles. 'Pre-Esthesian Feminist Iconography' she called it -- whatever that meant. There were classes at the University that you could take on the subject. Roku nodded, and listened. She wasn't interested in the intellectualism, just the idea that these items were originally made for a male audience. She asked what she could get for fifty credits, and the old woman sold her a rather battered, but hard-cover pocket sized edition, full of bondage photographs. A few moments of flipping and Roku found a picture of the woman from Pelli's locker, with her arms tied behind her back by thick cord and a ball gag in her mouth. As the old woman was ringing up the purchase, she remarked on the resemblance between Roku and the picture. Roku just smiled.

Back out in the sun of the river-walk, Roku put down the box containing her dress and examined the pocket book in detail. Page after page of images of women -- in corsets and stockings, garter belts and bras -- in compromising positions; high heels shoes and bare bottoms spanked with paddles; nipples pinched between wooden clothes pins. Pre-esthesian, perhaps, but it all looked pretty painful... Roku felt she was catching a glimpse into the mind of her prey -- into the fantasies of the male animal. If it was her profession to hunt and kill men, then it was important for her to understand their motivations. The conquest of women, obviously, but why all the fetishism? Why all the clothes and heels? There was something more to the male animal than the simple desire to destroy women, Roku was beginning to understand. And it was something that, perhaps, she could use against them. If they seemed particular, picky, about their victims... Perhaps Roku could lure... 

More flies with honey, Roku remembered again.

Before she realized it, she was taking the bridge across the river. It took a few minutes to get herself oriented, having only flown over that part of town late last night in a VTOL, but soon she was back in front of the apartment building where, a few hours before, she had killed four men. The blocked seemed to be abandoned. Roku had assumed the police would still be working the crime scene, but there wasn't a soul up or down the block. Roku pulled opened the plywood front door and stepped into the lobby. No transients sleeping on the floor this time. The odor was the same -- of mold and urine -- but the lobby showed every sign of being clear out. Up the stairs, Roku found the door to the apartment she had been in that night. She tried the handle, and the door opened. The fetid dankness of the room remained, but there was no evidence of last night's struggle left in the apartment. The couch was gone, the bloodstained mattress from the bedroom. No bodies, no evidence of the paramedics or the crime scene technicians. It was now just an abandoned, derelict apartment in an abandoned derelict building in a bad part of town. For a moment, Roku wondered if she'd imagined the whole thing. Once again, it was like she was in some bad science fiction vidcast, right before she discovered that small piece of evidence that proved the whole thing wasn't actually a dream...

Where were the police? Were was the crime scene? Did they really work this fast? It seemed inconceivable, but the evidence was right in front of Roku. Everyone was gone, it was like nothing had ever happened. Roku had killed four men, and the room had been swept clean. Perhaps it was a public relations thing -- that made a certain sort of sense -- they didn't want to panic the public. After all, the idea of Dick Terrorists cruising freely around the south-side of town, picking up girls, raping and murdering them, wasn't a comforting one. Though somehow, Roku felt deflated. Like they were minimizing her accomplishment. It was silly, she realized, but there it was. Roku closed the door and jogged back down the stairs.




Hatchette Ch. 05-10



She walked through the streets, surrounded by the old buildings of the south-side for another half an hour -- this time in the bright afternoon sun. Inside, she was half hoping to run across another carload of Dicks, cruising around, but she knew the chances of such a thing happening again in the broad daylight were slim. To herself, she was weighing her options. Under her arm she was still carrying the dress for the Ober Party that evening. In her hand she had the fetish book from the bookstore. 

Her orders were to investigate the Obers, but somehow that whole situation rang hollow inside her. Whatever crimes the Obers were up to -- whatever reasons the Commissariat had for spying on its own -- it seemed detached and remote from Roku's real mission. Finding and bagging Dicks -- Lt. Zee had told her -- that was a Hachette's duty. And here, on the south-side, Roku knew, was her hunting ground. The Dick Terrorists wouldn't be at any Ober Soiree, drinking Res with the wives; they would be down her in the slums, plotting their attacks, prying on young women. If Roku wanted to kill men, she need to be down here, in the gutter, seeking them out, not listening to propaganda lectures from sub-committee members. She needed to be where the action was -- where the men were.

Roku's feet finally brought her to threshold of the alleyway down which the brothel from last night lay. Roku paused. She looked at the book in her hand, flipping again through the pages. All the factors were swimming in her head -- the brothel, Steely Dan, Lady Le-En, that old gas burning car. Roku found the photograph of the woman wearing the ball gag and gave it a long look. If the conquest of women was what men hungered for, then who was Roku to deny them? 

Roku looked down into the shadows of the alleyway and slapped the book closed. She started walking into the darkness, her flip-flops slapping on the stone.

"No, no, not you again!" the Old Matron said, the second Roku stepped through the door. "Your kind of trouble we don't need!" A burning cigarette sat between her lips as she thrust a commanding finger back toward the door.

"Just a second..." Roku began.

"No!" the Old Matron kept yelling, "those fucking thugs scared away all my trade! You want to pay for that? All the fucking money I lost last night?"

"No, but-"

"I don't care if Le-En is a Lady now! I don't care if she's married to the fucking Holy Matron herself! No more Obers, no more thugs. Do you hear?"

Roku stepped up to the Old Matron's counter and waited for the Matron to finish her tirade. The Old Matron paused, realized that Roku wasn't leaving and puffed at her cigarette, fixing Roku with an angry stare.

With the Old Matron finally quiet, Roku said, "I can't pay you back for the money you lost last night, but I have another idea." The Old Matron gave Roku a suspicious glare. Roku dropped the hardcover book onto the counter, opening it to the page of the woman with the ball gag. "How about I work it off?" Roku said.

The Old Matron smiled.

10. Sentinel Tower

The wide, white town car arrived a few minutes early.

Roku was waiting at the threshold of the Grand Hall, the massive oak doors open, in her liquid silver dress. She had accessorized with a silver choke chain, an over-sided ornamental bracelet and a pair of low, kitten heels. She'd left her long legs bare, like her shoulders, and under it all she'd skipped on wearing any underwear -- not seeing the need. Altogether, Roku was a breathtaking sight, even if she did say so herself. Lady Aru, she hoped, would not be disappointed.

The town car pulled up and a leather clad Ober Guard stepped out and opened a passenger door. Roku climbed in -- in the back this time, not the front -- and enjoyed the luxury. With the driver back behind the wheel, they started off across the gravel of the driveway and back out onto the country lane beyond. In less than a minute they were at the gates of the Ober Manor, but the driver didn't slow, the car still moving, pointing towards the skyscrapers of downtown.

"Where's this Party?" Roku asked the driver, looking back at the receding mansion.

"Sentinel Tower," the drive said matter-of-factly, not looking up from the road. Roku's gulped. Sentinel Tower... That meant... Commissariat... Nothing fancy, just some friends, Lady Aru had said. 

Yeah, right. 

Roku suddenly panicked about her wardrobe. What if she was under dressed? Or over? She had no comprehension of what you were supposed to wear to a political function. She didn't want to embarrass Lady Aru; but the driver hadn't reacted at all to Roku's outfit -- she hadn't even blinked an eye. That comforted Roku, after a fashion. If Roku had been dressed inappropriately the driver would have had at least some reaction -- a smirk, a smile -- but nothing. Roku relaxed back into the soft leather of the town car's backseat, and looked out the window. No, her dress would be fine -- perfect even -- Roku reassured herself, it'd just been a momentary panic.

The Old Matron at the brothel had jumped at Roku's offer. There was already an Art Deco boudoir in the brothel for clients could rent -- one of their packaged fantasies -- with corsets and garter belts and stockings and riding crops and a few meters of rope. A couple of the whores would truss up customers who paid for it, in a fashion similar to the woman in Pelli's magazines. It was a popular room, seldom empty on a busy night, but with the addition of Roku it could become something quiet special, the Old Matron had understood. She knew her business too well not to see Roku's potential. The two of them had quickly come to an agreement. Roku would be an independent contractor, self employed like the other girls, but the Old Matron would handle the money. It was a fine setup for Roku, she didn't care at all about the money. What sort of clientèle she would receive was all that interested Roku -- what sort of clientèle and their sex.

In Roku's gut, she knew she was making the right move. Why Roku had been wasting her time molding away in some old boarding school, she couldn't fathom. Roku understood the idea of deep cover -- the other eleven Hatchettes, Roku remembered from training, were of a similar age to her and probably held down similar covers -- but it all seemed so senseless. If the purpose of the Hatchettes was to hunt and kill men -- to stop terrorism before it started -- what good where they doing from the dormitory of Preparatory School? No, Roku was beginning to suspect an ulterior motive behind her assignment to Saint Juliet's and the Ober Mansion... Nothing she could put a finger on, she didn't understand the politics -- didn't want to -- but for the Commissariat to be spying on its own members... It all rang hollow to Roku, like someone, somewhere was wasting Roku's time...

No, deep down in Roku's gut she knew, if she was ever going to show any results for her hard work, she was going to have to get creative about interpreting the scope of her orders. Not disobey -- no, of course not, Roku was a solider, but there was no harm in approaching her mission from a slightly different angle...

Her orders had her, that evening, in the town car, on her way to some party at the Sentinel Tower, to flirt with Lady Aru and whoever else might be a good source of information; but her mind was wandering, plotting out the complexities of her new profession as a south-side whore. No high-end call girl, no, but a back alley slut. The lowest of the low... That was what her mission called for now, that was the sort of filthy rock under which Dicks would be found -- hiding, biding their time, plotting their attacks... 

Roku's gut was telling her she had made a good decision and Roku was trusting in her gut.

The town car slowed to join a queue of cars lined up before a red carpet at the base of the Sentinel Tower. Flash bubs popped as dignitaries climbed out of the cars in front of Roku's. The red carpet was a mob scene with dozens of press photographers, vidcast presenters and various, average gawkers lining either side of the walkway. Roku hadn't been expecting this. Just a few friends, nothing fancy... Roku remembered again. By the Holy Matron! What was a Commissariat Party like when they really went all-out? 

Some celebrates, whoever they were, in the car in front of Roku's had stepped out and were waving, blowing kisses to the crowd. It was almost Roku's turn, once again the panic returned. She'd have to navigate that gauntlet... In the dress she was wearing... She could feel her cheeks already turning bright pink. Not exactly low profile... If one of those photographers put her picture in a paper... What would Lt. Zee say? It was too late now to weight the options, Roku realized, as her car pulled to a stop right at the threshold of gauntlet. She couldn't just stay in the car -- that'd be a thousand times more embarrassing than actually getting out.

Roku swallowed down her apprehension as a valet opened her door. Bolder than bold, she stepped out onto the sidewalk, trying not to show off too much thigh. There was a audible hush; flash bulbs stopped popping; an interviewer, who was holding a microphone out to the couple in front, turned to look directly at Roku. Roku's stomach knotted tight. The fight or flight instinct was kicking in, she could feeling her bionics clicking on. She had to resist the urge to turn and run away, down the sidewalk... At least duck back into the town car's open door... 

Then as quickly as the crowd had fallen silent, it started making noise once again. Cameras swung around to point at Roku. Flashes exploded in her face. People were screaming, asking questions, trying to be heard. Who was she? Was she here alone? Who was she wearing? Roku raised a hand to shield her eyes from the flashes, then realized that she was just standing there, rooted to the spot. Her town car was already pulling away behind her. She needed to walk. Move feet, move! she commanded, Red Carpets were for walking on. And her feet began to move under her, she was walking toward the impressive, ornate front doors of the Sentinel Tower. As Roku passed, the vidcast presenter with the microphone thrust it at Roku. She was asking questions but Roku couldn't hear them. Roku made a dismissive gesture, and pushed by. 

Before she realized it, she was inside the peace and quiet of the tower's lobby. The insanity continued on outside, but now Roku could hear herself think. That had all been unexpected, Roku thought, but she seemed to have been a sensation. Roku was feeling better now about her wardrobe choice, now that the press had given it their approval...

Guests in the lobby were milling around and taking drinks from waitresses. People seemed to be queuing up, waiting for elevators that were taking their time in arriving. Of course, the party would be two kilometers up at the very pinnacle of the Sentinel Tower... Roku was beginning to understand how Lady Aru threw a small party.

A stern looking woman dressed in black with a tablet in hand stepped up to Roku. "Invitation, please," she said in a monotone.

"I'm with Lady Aru's Party," Roku replied.

"Name?" the woman said, unimpressed.

"Roku."

The woman tapped aggressively at her tablet. "Ah, yes," she finally said, putting a line through something on the screen. "If you'll follow me." And the lady led Roku through the milling crowd to an elevator off to one side. A leather-clad Ober guard was standing to one side of the doors, petrified at attention. "The Commissar's express elevator," the woman commented, "it will bring you out in Lady Aru's office. Her party has not yet been presented on the floor, you're just in time." 

The elevator doors opened without promoting to reveal a shiny, chromed interior. With an encouraging wave from the woman, Roku stepped inside. She looked around for the control panel, wondering what floor she was supposed to push, but there were no controls, just the smooth, brushed metal walls on all sides.

"How do I-" Roku began, but the doors were already closing, clicking softly shut. The elevator started moving. Roku hoped it knew where it was supposed to be going...

It was a two minute ride to the top of the Sentinel Tower, two kilometers in the sky. The chrome doors opened up onto a sprawling, luxurious office with breathtaking, panoramic views. It was everything that Roku was expecting -- exactly the sort of place she had seen the business of government being conducted in her mind's eye. A dozen or so women, in evening wear, were milling around the open spaces off the office, drinks in hand. Roku stepped out of the elevator to no great fanfare. Everyone seems absorbed in their conversations. It gave Roku a second to look around -- take everything in. The view... Even after dark, it was breathtaking. The lights of the city glittering all around. A massive -- truly massive -- hardwood desk took up a corner of the room, facing the view. A high-backed leather chair behind it. That must be the seat of power, Roku through, Lady Aru's throne. Looking out over her domain -- The Great Society. 

"What are you like?" a voice said off to Roku's left. Roku turned to see Lady Le-En, ogling at her. She was, again, all in white, this time in a long, tube-like dress, stretching from just high enough to cover her breasts down to her ankles. "Don't you clean up nice?" she continued, looking Roku up and down. The bleary eyes, the slight slur... Res.

"Lady Le-En," Roku curtsied. Lady Le-En smiled, almost chuckled.

"Say..." Lady Le-En slid in a little closer -- uncomfortably close -- putting a hand around Roku. She started to lead Roku away from the elevator, in amongst the people. "Sorry about last night, I was out of my head by the time we got to Mei's... Lady Aru is such a bitch, and that jackbooted thug of hers, Anders..." Lady Le-En leaned in to look at Roku's face, examining it. Roku got a strong blast of her breath, stinking of Res. "Say, she hit you pretty hard, but you're looking pretty good..."

"Anti-inflammatory wand..." Roku replied. "Paramedics..." 

"Ah," Lady nodded, "Hey, that was a pretty good time, huh? I mean, before Anders showed up. You looked like you were pretty into it... Ciki and Tol... Pretty, nice huh? And old, steely..." Le-En brought a hand to her mouth and chuckled, like they were sharing some private joke. Then her eyes crept down and got a good look at Roku's cleavage and her tone turned more serious. "Say, how about you and me dump this stupid party and head on back-"

"Roku!" Lady Aru called from across the room, interrupting Le-En's proposition. Lady Aru pulled away from a cluster of ladies, all drinking cocktails, and strode towards Roku -- arms open. "I see Le-En has already claimed you..." she said with a smile. Lady Aru put her hands on Roku's shoulders and kissed her on the cheek like they were the best of friends. Roku was shocked. So was the room. Everyone was watching, Lady Aru had embrace Roku -- a nobody -- as a friend. The message was clear. Roku could feel an instant chance in the room's attitude. 

"You must meet absolutely everyone," Lady Aru continued, pulling Roku away from Lady Le-En, leading her back toward the group of women. "We'll be out with the main party in a moment. There's a formality to these things. Rank has its privileges, you know. But the core party always starts in here, of course." 

Lady Aru was as breathtakingly beautiful as Roku remembered. She wore a simple, off the shoulder black gown that reached all the way past her toes. It seemed to be made of some impossibly light fabric, thinner and more sheer than sink, that conformed perfectly to Lady Aru's curves. She was less dressed in the gown than draped by it. The shape of her breasts, the curve of her hips were perfectly outlined by the gown. She seemed nude, like the the moment Roku had first seen her, but also properly dressed. Roku once again marveled at the power of Lady Aru's body, how it could be used as a tool to command.

They had reached the clutch of women. "Ladies, this is a good friend of my wife's, Roku," Lady Aru beamed. Hands were extended and Roku shook them. Lady Le-En hovered in the background, under a cloud. "I won't bore you with names and titles that you'll never remember," everyone chuckled at Lady Aru's little joke and Roku realized they were all yes-women -- Lady Aru's flunkies. Who they were didn't matter. "Sub-Commissar this, Committee Chair that... It's all terribly dull and formal and tonight is about having fun and letting your hair down, am I right?" There were nods of agreement. Lady Aru slipped one of her long, slender arms around Roku and gave her a playful squeeze. 

Roku almost choked in surprise.

"And I'm sure you recognize Minister Olev," Lady Aru, with her arm still around Roku's waist, steered her towards another group of ladies. "from the vidcats. This is Roku." Lady Aru was introducing a middle-aged woman in a black, sequined gown. 

Minister Olev's apparent age was a striking departure from the rest of the impossibly young faces in the room. Her face had a worn, stern quality, as it it was unfamiliar with the act of smiling. She still had a good figure and attractive, medium length blond hair worn up from the occasion; but her thighs showed the weight of her years, and the luster of her hair was now marred by strands of gray. She was, perhaps, in actual years, roughly the same age as Lady Aru, but it was a hard fact to comprehend looking at the two of them side by side. Minister Olev gave Roku a quick look up and down, focused in on the arm Lady Aru had around Roku's middle, and held out a hand. This was no yes-woman, Roku realized.

"How do you do?" the Minister asked, not expected an answer. With the bare minimum of pleasantries out of the way, she turned back to her conversation. 

"Oh, but you don't have a drink!" Lady Aru realized. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a host..." She waved towards a waitress, but before she could make eye contact, a woman in black interrupted.

"If Your Excellency is ready, the main floor is ready for your entrance," she said. 

Lady Aru looked at her, annoyed, "Now? Oh, alright..." then, raising her voice, to the whole room, "They're ready to announce us. If you will all follow me."

Dutifully, the whole party began to move towards a pair of double doors set in the far left wall of the office. There seemed to be a formal order to be observed and various pairs of women jostled back and forth in line to find the right position. Roku dropped back, instinctively understanding she had no place in such an ordering; but Lady Aru, who had quickly strolled to the front of the line, stopped and looked around for something she'd misplaced. It was Roku. Lady Aru stepped out of line and held a hand out towards Roku.

"You're right beside me, dear." She said, hurrying Roku up to the front of the line. Roku was speechless -- confused. She didn't understand. Roku caught sight of Lady Le-En out of the corner of her eye and could see her fuming with resentment. The double doors opened and a voice began to formally present Lady Aru to the main party. A master of ceremonies was reciting all sixty words of Lady Aru's title: Commissar of this, Under Minster of that, Defender of the Order, Handmaiden of the Great Society, Her Excellency Lady Aru Ober... And Lady Aru stepped forward, through the double doors, into the main room, holding Roku's hand.  



Hatchette Ch. 05



"She's got a gun!" someone yelled. Roku's second target was rooted to the floor in shock, her hand still holding her cock. There was no need for a snap shot here, Roku aimed carefully. She pulled the trigger, and the Nanpa Girl's head evaporated, the decapitated body slowly falling back.

The girl with the gun was recovering a little from the head-butt to the balls. A shaky hand came up and took a potshot at Roku. It would have served its purpose, too, if Roku hadn't flipped back, somersaulting over the couch. The plasma blot flew harmlessly across the room, scorching into the wall. Roku fired before she had fully returned to her feet, and her bolt took the Nanpa Girl's arm clean off at the elbow. The second shot hit the prone target square in the chest.

That just left one.

Roku looked quickly around the room. The Nanpa Girl, the one who'd worn the pink shorts, the one who'd been so eager to fuck Roku's ass, where was she? Roku could see across the room to the front door of the apartment. It was still closed. She was still in the apartment. There wasn't far to go. Roku lept gracefully over the couch, landed, and rolled on the moldy floor, bringing her burner up at the doorway to the single bedroom. Sure enough, the last Nanpa Girl was halfway out the fire escape window. 

She must have heard Roku because she stopped in her escape, turned around ,and suddenly began begging: "No, no. Please! You don't understand, I-" But Roku wasn't listening. She fired. The shot hit the girl in the gut, making her stagger forward from the window. She was wounded but not dead.

"Still want to fuck my ass?" Roku asked, spitting out a wad of the Nanpa Girl's cum -- enjoying for a second a moment of sadistic glee. 

"I-I-Please-" and Roku fired again. This time though the neck. The plasma bolt didn't de-encapsulate and it exploded against the window beyond. The Nanpa Girl's hand came up, grabbing at the small hole though her throat. She... He... Looked down in shocked terror, then collapsed forward face first onto the bare mattress. Plasma weapons, mercifully, cauterize the wounds they cause, preventing bleeding, but the hole through the Nanpa Girls neck... A pool of red began to soak into the mattress under the girl's body. Roku pulled herself to her feet and pushed the safety on her burner. 

She looked around for a long minute at the corpses that littered the apartment. By the Holy Matron! What had she done? She suddenly felt very naked, standing there only in her ripped stockings. She found the blanket that the Nanpa Girls had wrapped around her and she pulled it around her shoulders. 

Your job, she told herself as she shivered under the blanket -- you were doing your job. You're a Hatchette, and a Hatchette's job, first and foremost, is to exterminate men. And you've got four dead men right here. Killed with your hand. Four men who were going to face fuck you, ass fuck you, then throw your dead body in the river. Don't have any sympathy for them, Roku told herself. She stepped amongst the charred corpses, looking at her handy work -- looking for a phone. She found one in a small purse. She dialed the number she had been told to dial in situations like this. The number for the cleaners -- the number for Lt. Zee. 

She'd done her job, Roku said to herself, and she'd made the world a little bit safer for all. Four dead Dick Terrorists. Roku sat down on the soggy couch and let the phone ring. Fuck, she'd just killed four people, Roku realized, four men...

Roku had never killed anyone before. 



Hatchette Ch. 11



11. The Falling Gallery

Rapturous applause rose from the main party as Lady Aru and Roku stepped out onto the main floor. Lady Aru was making her entrance and it had been a good one. The floor of the observation deck of the Sentinel Tower was packed with a good two or three hundred ladies, all in formal wear. Glasses clinked, an orchestra played, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. But the whole party had paused for Lady Aru's entrance with Roku by her side. Even before Roku had stepped through the double doors she had started blushing. All this attention... Roku really hadn't been expecting it. But what was Lady Aru playing at? Lady Le-En was second through the door -- all on her own. The MC announced her titles, but even Roku realized that she should have been standing at Lady Aru's side. Was this her punishment for the events of last night? Roku wondered. The sour, angry look on Lady Le-En's face said it was. 

The remainder of the pre-party were formally announced as they emerged through the double doors -- all committee members and sub-commissars. A few ministers and military officers, but Roku didn't have the chance to identify anyone. Lady Aru held tight to Roku's hand. As people presented themselves to Lady Aru for introduction, Lady Aru introduced them to Roku like she was actually somebody to know. Roku could only smile and shake hands. As this and that person of nobility stepped forward, pay their respects, Lady Aru gave Roku a running dialog of all the juicy details about each of the respected personalities. Roku couldn't help but giggle. This captain of industry was sleeping with that committee chair, that's how they got the planning permission to build a shopping mall downtown; this Police Chief was into calfing (a fetish for sucking on lactating breasts); that sub-minister just had her gene resequenced and lost twenty kilos; another sub-minister had been arrested last year and a phallus found in her possession -- the whole thing has been hushed up, of course, for the greater good, but not until absolutely everyone who was anyone had heard the details...

At first, Roku was entertained, but then the sudden familiarity began to concern her. Lady Aru was dishing some dangerous details -- a whole laundry list of blackmail-able offenses. Who was Roku? Roku had no disillusions. A Hatchette, yes, but still the lowest of the low. Who was she to presume to know anything about anyone. Was this still all about last night? It could be, Roku realized. But somehow Lady Aru seemed to be trying just that little bit too hard. After all, if Roku did actually go to the press -- an insane possibility -- who would believe her? Who would take her word over that of a Lady -- an Ober wife at that. No, there was more to Lady Aru's familiarity than just calculated maneuvering. She was flirting with Roku, showing Roku off. Lady Aru was taking pleasure in having a young, beautiful woman at her side; reviling at the sideways glances people were casting at Roku's firm frame. 

Was Roku some sort of trophy to be displayed? That idea nagged her. Roku cast a glance across the room to the pouting figure of Lady Le-En drinking at the bar. Had she been the old trophy -- the pretty girl on Lady Aru's arm, now cast away? That idea nagged at Roku, too. What was Lady Le-En? Twenty five? Roku reminded herself not to get too comfortable, her tenure on Lady Aru's arm was probably fleeting.

But as the evening pertained to Roku's mission, it was a Grand Slam. Her report to Lt. Zee tomorrow would have to be multiple pages -- if Roku could remember even a tenth of what she was hearing.

"These affairs are so dull..." Lady Aru smiled casually. The receiving line had ended and Lady Aru and Roku had sifted toward the large windows of the observation deck, crystal flutes of Res laced champagne in their hands. "But the obligations of office..."

"Thank you for the invitation," Roku said. "I have to admit, I'm finding it all quite overwhelming."

"Oh, don't worry, dear," Lady Aru laughed, "you'll get used to it all. A few dozen of these shindigs and they become like second nature. Some nights, when I get home, I can't peel the smile off my face -- the muscles have just frozen into place..."

A few dozen more parties? What was Lady Aru implying?

"I-" Roku could only blurt the single syllable before she was interrupted by the Master of Ceremonies. Even Lady Aru turned to listen to who was been presented. The title was long -- much longer than Lady Aru's. The MC went on and on adding Chairmanships, Dames, Guardian of this or that, Governor of here and there, until finally she announced the entrance of the First Commissar, Lady Es.

There was thunderous applause. Cheers and whistles like a rock star had stepped out onto stage, but there was no sign that anyone new had entered the observation deck. Roku raised herself up on her tiptoes and surveyed the room. She couldn't understand who everyone was cheering for. Then, slowly, out of the large double doors that lead back into Lady Aru's office, the hunched figure of an old woman was rolled out. 

Huddled in an ornate wheelchair, wrapped in a number of silken shawls, the First Commissar rolled into the party. She seemed impossibly old, her head lolling forward, unaware of the adulation being poured upon her. No one faltered in their applause but Roku. Roku was shocked. That was the First Commissar? She'd no idea... No, that couldn't be right... The First Commissar was on the vidcasts all the time. That wasn't the First Commissar...

"Who is-" Roku began.

Lady Aru interrupted, "A dizgotic twin... The First Commissar that you see on the vidcasts... Same genetic template as the First Commissar, just sixty years younger. She's been using a double ever since her fifties. Back then, they didn't have the genetic therapies to hide the aging process, and with appearances being so important in our business... Well, the First Commissar's actual age has become something of a state secret. The public are now totally unaware of her actual age -- how elderly she's really become. If they had any idea... But no one lives forever, not even First Commissars... It's a deception we won't have to maintain for much longer..."

"I had no idea..." Roku said in disbelief. 

"We can rely on your discretion, I hope?" Lady Aru said with a sly smile.

"Oh, of course." Roku replied, returning the grin. "This evening has been so educational..." Roku added.

"And it's only just begun..." Lady Aru threated an arm around Roku's.

The Falling Gallery was something of an architectural marvel, a masterpiece of Great Society ingenuity. Roku had read about it in books, seen pictures, but never before experienced it in person. Its effect was acrophobic. Below the panoramic windows of The Sentinel Tower's observation deck, the Falling Gallery was a collection of interconnected terraces, staggered away at intervals down and away from the side of the building. Each consecutive terrace was lower than the last, invisible from the line-of-sight of the terrace above, lending the impression that nothing stood between you and the two kilometer drop off the side of the tower. Of course, the next terrace was actually below you, but only those brave enough to stand at the very precipice could see this. It was a dizzying effect, most comfortably witnessed from the concrete benches build at the back of each terrace, safely distant from the immense drop.

After the applause for the First Commissar died down, Lady Aru lead Roku by the arm away from the party and out onto the Falling Gallery. She chatted idly as the stepped out into the warm night. Other party goes were already out on the terraces, occupying benches. At first Roku paid little attention to anyone, listening intently to Lady Aru tell a tale; but as they began to climbe down to a lower terrace, Roku noticed that many of the woman already out in the Falling Gallery were engaged in passionate embraces. Here and there, a couple or a threesome of woman were intimately making out -- a cool breeze blowing across the Gallery tousling hair and clothing. Lady Aru didn't acknowledge the courious sight, continuing her chatter, tooking Roku by the hand and stepped to the very edge of one of the terraces. Below a few feet, three woman, one perhaps not much older than Roku and two in their middle-age, were passionate kissing each other in turn... But not really kissing, no, as Roku looked down, it wasn't like any kissing Roku had even done. It was more sucking on each other's tongues -- thrusting a tongue between a partner's lips, then, perhaps, licking each other's tongue, wrapping them together. Hems were raised and hands were exploring under evening gowns. As Lady Aru and Roku watched, the two older women bellow pulled down the younger woman's dress and began to simultaneously lick at her nipples. She let out a low groan as the two women's hands met moving up the inside of her thighs.

It was a Mosh, Roku realized.

A Mosh for adults -- power brokers, statement -- different rules than the showers after calisthenics, Roku understood, but a Mosh all the same. The main party was back on the observation deck, but the real fun of the evening was out here. Roku looked up from the passionate triple below her and into Lady Aru's eyes. She had stepped in closer to Roku, still holding tight to Roku's hand. Lady Aru leaned in close and placed her lips on Roku's. Roku was too stunned to respond. Lady Aru let go of Roku's hand and slipped her palm under Roku's short dress, cupping a buttock. She broke away from the kiss and looked Roku hungrily in the eyes. She must have seen the acquaintance she was looking for, because he kissed Roku again, this time firmly, thrusting a tongue between Roku's lips. 

It must have been a rule of the Falling Gallery's Mosh, the tongue kissing -- the lapping hungrily at each other mouths. Roku and Lady Aru stood there at the edge of the terrace kissing in this fashion for a long minute; Lady Aru's hands exploring under Roku's dress, Roku raising her hands to cup Lady Aru's impossibly high, firm breasts. What, at first, had seemed strange now seemed exciting, as Roku sucked ravenously at Lady Aru's tongue. One of Lady Aru's hands found Roku's Jane, and rubbed roughly at Roku's clitoris. Roku broke away from the kiss to let out a moan. A firm slap came to Roku's behind as a finger explored deeper into Roku. The finger emerged and Lady Aru brought it to her mouth, sucking on it hungrily. 

"Your Excellency," A voice almost whispered. Lady Aru turned, her finger still in her mouth, to see Minister Olev leading a beautiful young girl down the stairs from the terrace above. Lady Aru didn't show a second of embarrassment. The finger remained in her mouth as Minister Olev passed, taking the next flight of stairs down to the next terrace. Lady Aru looked back at Roku with a glint in her eyes. She took Roku's hand and lead her down after Minister Olev; down the stairs to the next terrace, and down again to a terrace that seemed to be unoccupied. 

Minister Olev and the young, pretty woman sat down on the empty bench and, without any fanfare, began to kiss in the fashion of the Falling Gallery. Lady Aru lead Roku to the center of the terrace, an arm around Roku, and stood there watching the Minister and the girl. Lady Aru's hand was again under Roku's dress touching her Jane, stimulating her as they watched the two woman make out. Then Lady Aru's hands came up, and slipped off the invisible straps from Roku's shoulders. Roku's dress fell away, leaving her standing naked in the cold breeze of the night. Roku motioned to cover herself, but Lady Aru pushed her hands down.

"Stand here," Lady Aru said -- commanded -- and she started toward the bench. She sat down next to the Minister who had broken away from her embrace to look at Roku. The three women looked approvingly at Roku, who felt cold and exposed in the chill of the evening. "Touch yourself," Lady Aru ordered.

Hesitantly, Roku complied, slightly spreading her legs and reaching a hand between them. She began to rub slowly at her Jane, getting little enjoyment from the exhibitionism. Lady Aru began to touch her own Jane through the fabric of her gown. She leaned over and extended a tongue at Minister Olev's still lips. She was distracted watching Roku, but as Lady Aru leaned in, the Minister took the offered tongue into her mouth, kissing Lady Aru passionately. Lady Aru pulled away from the kiss and took the tongue of the young woman who was offering it. The three continued to kiss interchangeably as Roku stood their, frigging at herself. The warmth between her legs was starting to overpower the cold breeze. She moaned.

"Turn around," Lady Aru ordered and Roku complied. Spreading her legs wider and not interrupting her masturbation. She arched her back and leaned a little forward, letting everyone get a good view. "Down," Lady Aru continued to order, "all fours. Ass up." Roku dropped down onto her knees and elbows, keeping her fingers between her legs. Now everyone would get a perfect view. She lowered herself and rested her face on the cold concrete, using her off hand to spread the lips of her Jane, still circling her clit with a single finger. Oh, she was going to cum...

She looked back through her spread legs and could see that the other three women were now masturbating, also. They were watching Roku's raised ass intently, rapidly rubbing their Janes. Roku could feel her orgasm rising, slipping two fingers of her left hand into her vagina, not letting off of her clit. She came hard, rapidly thrusting the two fingers in and out of herself. She moaned into the concrete slob beside her face, its cold hardness soothing to her overheated face.

Behind her, by the intensity of the groans, it sounded like the young girl was also almost there. Roku looked back to see that Minister Olev had taken over the masturbation duties for the girl, rubbing at her clit with one hand and jabbing a finger inside her with the other. Lady Aru had her feet tucked up under her now, her gown furled up, showing off her neat trim of her Jane. Her eyes were transfixed by Roku's upturned rear, circling her clit with a single finger. Roku took her hands away from her Jane but remained in position, taking a buttock in each hand and spreading herself. Lady Aru evidently approached this, as she doubled the rate of her masturbation. 

The Minster quickly got her partner off, and the young girl bucked and moaned under the Minster's hands. When the girl's climax has subsided, she dropped to her knees on the floor of the terrace and shuffled around to the front of the Minister. The Minister spread her legs apart as the young girl leaned forward, raising the Minister's black sequined gown. Minister Olev let out a soft, satisfied groan as the young girl started in on her Jane with her tongue.

"Come here," Lady Aru ordered softly. Roku shifted her weight back and started to stand. "No," Lady Aru interrupted, "come here. Crawl."

Roku complied, dropped back onto her palms and turned around to face Lady Aru. She took her time, crawling across the cold concrete, not taking the arch out of her back. She moved like a cat, slow and sultry. Her instincts were good, Lady Aru took her hand away from her Jane, but left it ready for Roku. Roku crawled up with a wide smile, stuck out her tongue and licked Lady Aru's Jane in one long motion. Lady Aru groaned, pulling the fabric away from her breasts and pinching at her nipples. Roku dug her tongue into Lady Aru's lips and flicked mercilessly at her clit. Lady Aru bucked her hips, she wouldn't last ten more seconds. Roku buried her face deep into Lady Aru's softness, lapping away. The orgasm rocked all of Lady Aru's body, picking her up of the bench and setting her back down. Beside here, the Minister was also climaxing, rubbing her Jane roughly into the face of the young woman.

With Roku's job done, she pulled from between Lady Aru's thighs, giving the small lily tattoo a peck as she passed. Lady Aru looked down and smiled at Roku, sweat dripping from her perfect features. She pulled Roku up and they kissed -- a real kiss, with minimum tongue -- and they held each other there on the exposed bench. Roku didn't feel cold, she felt warm all over, the warmth of Lady Aru's perfect body next to her. She lay her head on Lady Aru's breasts and closed her eyes. Happy -- happy in a way that Roku had never realized she could be.



Hatchette Ch. 12



12. The Art Deco Boudoir

Roku adjusted the long, black gloves over her elbows and looked down at Minster Olev, all tied up to the four poster bed. Roku was wearing a black bra and matching panties; a garter belt holding up sheer, black stocking; tall heels and the long gloves; every bit the woman from Pelli's magazines. Minster Olev was naked on the bed except for the ball gag in her mouth, the knee-high riding boots and the black ropes crisscrossing her pale, soft flesh. 

Roku picked up a riding crop from the foot of the bed and brought it down across the back of Minster Olev's thighs -- her feet we tired up above her to the crossbar between the posts of the bed. She let out a yelp through the confines of the gag. Roku ran a gloved hand the full length of one of the Minister's legs, and down through the exposed, open, roan softness of her jane. Pulling the lips apart with two fingers, Roku slapped gently at the Minister's clit with the end of the crop, receiving muffled moans in gratitude.

Roku dropped the crop at the end of the bed and took her time stepping into the harness of the stap-on. She could fell the Minister watching her as she tightened the buckles on, the Minister's eyes speaking volumes of expectation in their tiny movements. Roku fastened the straps tights, letting the large phallus jut up and away from her groin. It wasn't a massive dildo -- nothing like Steely Dan -- but its shape and detail more closely modeled that of a real penis. Why bother? Roku didn't fully understand, how many woman had even actually seen a real penis? Apart from Roku, that is, and she'd much rather forget. But as forbidden, contraband, illegal items went, Roku's strap-on must have topped the list. Hard rubber, black, but detailed enough that you could see imitation veins running the length of the shaft. Part of Roku was always disgusted to wear it, part of was always titillated, depending on her mood. All of her clients, at some point, demanded it... Eventually... The ropes and the stocking and the gags and the riding crops were great, but it in end what all her clients really wanted -- what they were paying for -- was a serious, hard fucking. Roku was happy to oblige, even willing to take one herself if the client was so inclined, but very few ever were.

Roku climbed up onto the bed and straddled across Minister Olev's naked body. She placed the hard, black dildo between the Minister's breasts, and pushed them together around the member. She rubbed her Jane, through the fabric of her panties, back and forth a little across the Minister's stomach, letting the dildo move back and forth between her tits, letting the black tip emerge just a little with every thrust. The Minister mumbled under her gag, and Roku reached back behind her head and slipped the gag loose.

"I-I-" Minister Olev stared to speak, but Roku didn't wait for her to finish. She leaned forward, taking her weight on one hand, and guiding the stap-on between the Minister's red, open lips. Roku thrust from her hips and forced the phallus deep into the Minister's mouth, almost gagging her on it. She pulled it out slightly, then thrust it in again. She pulled it free and slapped it playfully against the Minister's lips. The Minister obediently licked at the rubber, then took the head of the dildo back into her mouth, raising her head off the pillow to swallow in as much as possible. 

Roku jumped free of the bed and pulled on a single knot that freed, in one act, both Minister Olev's hands and feel. The Minister collapsed back, grateful as the ropes played free, the weight taken off her extremities. But Roku didn't give her time to relax. Roku put a hand on the Minister's hips and pushed her over, rolling the Minister onto her front. Without being asked, Minister Olev pulled her knees up underneath her and thrust her ass up into the air. Roku hopped up onto the bed and took up position behind the Minister, grabbing a hip in each hand. She guided the dildo, hands free, towards the Minister's blond jane, pausing as the tip touched her pink lips.

"Fuck yeah... Yeah..." the Minister moaned. Roku pushed forward slightly with her hips, pushing the dildo in a little deeper, playing with the pussy. "Yeah, fuck it... fuck it..." the Minister appealed.

The first skill Roku had learned as a whore was when to speak and when to keep quiet. Some clients liked it dirty, liked to be called names, liked to have Roku describe in detail everything she was doing. Others were all business, preferring no talking, sometimes not even asking Roku's name. Minister Olev was a talker. She liked to be reminded exactly how horrible the acts she was committing actually were. 

"Fucking slut!" Roku muttered angrily, taking the stap-on in one hand and grinding it against the Minister's clit. "Cock slut! Fucking whore... You like to swallow dicks, don't you? Get fucked like a dog?"

"Oh yeah, fuck me..." the Minister replied, dreamily.

Roku took the stap-on and slipped it a few centimeters into the Minister's jane. She moaned in approval.

"Bitch!" Roku pulled out the phallus and bent down to lick at the Minister's upturned cunt. She thrust her tongue deep into the Minister's vagina and rubbed roughly at the Minister's clit. The anticipation was beginning to drive Minister Olev crazy, she squealed like she was about to start begging.

That was Roku's queue. 

She pulled herself back up and thrust the stap-on into Minister Olev with one cruel stoke. She buried it to the hilt, grabbing the Minister's hips, not letting her retreat from it. The Minister screamed it both pain and pleasure. Roku didn't pause, thrusting in and out with the stap-on. The Minister buried her face into the pillows of the bed, muffling her moans. 

"Fucking bitch!" Roku said as she slammed the dildo hard into the Minister's jane. "Who's my bitch? I'll make you my fucking bitch, you little cock slut!" Roku kept up the dialog as she worked. "You like that? You like a hard dick? You fucking slut..."

Roku kept thrusting away at the Minister's punished pussy, pumping in and out like her body wasn't connected to any person. Having worked at Mei's now for over a month, Roku now realized that this was what women came and paid for. Sex they could get. In a Mosh or a Falling Gallery or from a wife or lover. No, women paid whores to treat them like shit, like whores themselves, like how men had supposedly treated women. There was something in a woman's psyche that need that, Roku guessed, once in awhile... To be dominated -- to be fucked stupid, by a hard dick... Anomalously. 

Roku could understand, even sympathize. She even enjoyed the sex, but the whole month had been one long frustrating experience for her. She thought an insight into the male psyche had lead her to Mei's, but the only lessons that prostitution had been able to teach her were on the subject of female psychology. Of course, she hadn't expected Dick Terrorists to just wander in off the street and demand a blow job, but she had half expected at least a hint that males were mixing amongst the underbelly of society. As it was, Roku was spending her time servicing the very kind of clientèle she had attempted to distance herself from: Ladies, Ministers and Commissariat lackeys.

That night during the party at the top of the Sentinel Tower -- after they had all returned to the observation deck from the Falling Gallery -- Minister Olev had cornered Roku alone and subtlety implied that she'd be interested in meeting Roku again, later, alone. Roku had hesitated in mentioning Mei's, concerned it'd reflect badly on Lady Aru, but she'd taken the chance and Roku's instincts had turned out correct. Minister Olev seemed aroused by the idea. Less than a week later, the Minister had showed up, down that dark back alley, asking after Roku.

She must have spread the word, around the corridors of power, because a steady stream of well connected, middle-aged woman began to pass through the doors of Mei's brothel. The Old Matron at the front desk was ecstatic. She'd known Roku would bring in business, but nothing so high-end and never so many. The Old Matron was quick to double, triple the usual hourly rates, and the women coming to see Roku happily paid it.

If Lady Aru knew about Roku's new career, she never mentioned it. Once or twice a week she sent for Roku -- a white town car appearing unannounced in front of the school. Sometimes they'd make love, just to two of them, sometimes it was group thing with a couple of the other Ober Wives. Sometimes Lady Aru was entertaining and Roku was obliged to service the powerful or well connected guests. Lady Aru liked to watch those evening, as Roku would hungrily lap a grateful jane until orgasm... On second thought, perhaps Lady Aru did understand how Roku spent her after school time... And treated her like the whore she was. 

During school hours, however, Roku tried to maintain her cover the best she could. She was doing well in class, not letting her grades slip; and despite intermittent and capricious punishment from the Matrons, was mostly well behaved. Her only act if conscious disobedience with with Pelli. Pelli and Roku had begun to carry on their relationship outside of the gym showers, as expressly forbidden by school rules.

At first, the money Roku had stolen had been an issue. Roku had readily admitted her theft, and Pelli had be understandably upset; but Roku had made, her first night working at Mei's, enough to pay back Pelli tenfold. She'd done so after algebra class and pulled Pelli aside, into an empty classroom to give her the interest. With Pelli on her back sprawled out across a Matron's desk, Roku had lifted Pelli's skirt and pulled down her white, cotton panties. She'd licked at Pelli's strawberry red jane until she came hard, rocking and twisting on the desk. It'd made them both late for their next class and they'd both had to suffer through a paddling, but it been worth every stroke. Roku could almost ignore a Matron's lascivious fingering while the taste of Pelli's cum was still on her lips.

They'd begun to sneak every stolen moment they could together. Sex in the dormitories was out, and they were restricted to mutual masturbation in The Mosh, but once or twice a day they were able to get five minutes here or there where they could be alone together. Pelli's body was already ready and Pelli was eager to please Roku in any fashion Roku desired. 

But with Pelli, Roku liked to keep things simple. Roku came to realization that she was having sex, on an average, five to six times a day. Between Mei's, Lady Aru and Pelli... Not always for the purpose of her own pleasure, perhaps, but it was a hectic schedule, all the same. Mei's might have been for money, Lady Aru might have been for the mission, but Pelli... Pelli was all for Roku. She was Roku's precious little moment, her break in the day, her selfish desire that was all for herself...

"Ride it, whore," Roku commanded, pulled out and dropping down beside Minister Olev on the bed. Roku rolled onto her back and the Minister happily straddled across Roku's groin, lowering herself tentatively down onto the stap-on. Soon she was bucking up and down and Roku grabbed a breast firmly in each hand. The Minister sighed and began to cum -- twisting her hips around on the dildo, her breath shortening to a gasp. Eventually, all spent, the Minister collapsed forward on top of Roku, panting. She kiss Roku, tenderly, and they lay there for a few minutes, the stap-on still thrust inside the Minister. Roku caressed the Minister's ample ass and down her soft thighs.

"Six hundred enough?" the Minister asked. She'd dressed and had pulled a roll of cash out of her slacks. Roku remained reclined on the bed, the black dildo still pointing out from her groin. 

"You know, for you, it's always on the house," Roku answered, smiling.

"You're so sweet..." Minster Olev counted off a wad of bills and dropped them on the end of the bed next to the riding crop. 

"Business is business," Roku said sleepily, "I've been getting a lot of visits from the Commissariat. I suspect I have you to thank..."

Minister Olev smiled, putting the final adjustments to her wardrobe, "No, not me. Lady Aru recommends you to just about everyone. She's so proud of her sweet little whore..."

"Lady Aru?" Roku said, surprised, sitting up. 

"Oh yes, you're all she can talk about. Her perfect little plaything. I think she's proud of her discovery." The Minister started toward the door.

Discovery?

"Next week, then?" the Minister said back over her shoulder, at the door, "should I make an appointment?" she chuckled.

"The door is always open, Minister," Roku laid back down on the bed, smiled kittenishly and hugging at a pillow in her arms.

With the Minister gone, Roku had no other clients waiting; she removed her gloves, her heels and the stap-on, wrapped a dressing gown around herself and made her way downstairs; down a back staircase to a small room the girls used as a break-room. There was a small kitchenette in the corner with a refrigerator and an old couch up against a wall, facing a vidscreen. Ciki sat, also in a dressing gown, at a small plastic dinette set, reading a reactive newspaper -- the gossip section. She glanced up with a smile as Roku entered the room, then returned to her paper.

Ven, the heavy-set, large breasted whore, was sitting on the couch, with a breast pump to each of her exposed nipples. She was transfixed by the vidscreen, showing some ultra-violent Dick and Jane War movie, letting the pumps suck lazily away at her breasts. Ven was a specialty service, for the fetishists -- the calfers. For a fee, you could suck milk directly from her breasts. High rent stuff, but it took an awful lot of stimulation to keep Vens milk flowing. When she wasn't working, she kept the pumps attached to her nipples. How anyone could find that erotic, Roku didn't understand -- looking at Ven sitting there with the machine pumping away at her breasts, but it wasn't for Roku to understand. 

At Ven's feet, on the floor, also watching the vid, sat Luci and Lessi, the dizgotic wives. They were still dressed in their matching rubber nurses' outfits, both smoking cigarettes and sharing an ashtray resting on the floor between them. They were another specialty service: two woman of an identical genetic template that you could rent for a threesome. 

It was uncommon in day-to-day life to run into anyone else sharing your genetic template; even more uncommon for two women of identical genes to meet up and marry, but it wasn't totally unheard of. Luci and Lessi were such a pair and the allure of the fantasy was obvious. It was a fetish Roku could more easily understand, but in the harsh white light of the break-room's florescent bulb, there was nothing alluring about their chafing, red flesh hiding under the rubber costumes. They looked sweaty and pale and Roku was glad her customers preferred lace... It breathed much better.

Roku made herself an instant coffee at the counter, then sat down at the dinette next to Ciki. For a few seconds she watch the movie that had Ven, Luci and Lessi so transfixed. There was a space battle going on. Dick pilots were bombing earthbound targets. Heroic Jane pilots were flying out to intercept them. The special effects weren't very good. The computer animated space fighters looked dinky, and the cutaways to the pilots were obviously on a sound stage. Still, the Janes were winning, valiantly fighting off wave after wave of snarling, vicious men. The women playing the guy parts looked stupid in their glued on beards, with their breasts taped down. Roku thought about that night with the Nanpa Girls and shuddered. If people only knew how hard it was to actually spot a male...

"The Minister again?" Ciki asked out of the blue, not looking up from her paper.

"What?" Roku turned away from the movie. "Oh, yes. Twice this week."

"What's the old bitch charging those government types, anyway?" Ciki tapped her newspaper with a finger and it scrolled to the next page.

"Six hundred, today," Roku tried reading Ciki's newspaper upside down, got three words into it, then gave up.

"Fuck!" Ciki looked up. "For one trick?"

"Yep." Roku sipped at her coffee.

"You've got to start getting some threesomes going. It takes me all night to make that much."

"They all just want to get dicked," Roku said over her cup, "no one's asked to get it in two holes at once."

"Maybe you should start suggesting it?" Ciki said hopefully.

"Maybe..." Roku shrugged, then asked, "Business not so brisk?"

"Business is fine," Ciki returned to her paper, "but six hundred a trick... Nice work if you can get it," Ciki sighed.

"Or give it," Roku replied, "as the case my be."



Hatchette Ch. 13-14



**Non-sex chapters. Skip to Chapter 15 for the next erotic scene. Here for completeness, only.**

13. Cabaret

Roku's life remained very much in this holding pattern for two more months; days at school, nights either at Mei's or with Lady Aru; stolen moments in empty classrooms or storage closets with Pelli; daily reports to Lt. Zee that Roku could sense no one bothered to read. All without a hint of the Dick threat Roku was convinced hid just beneath the surface of the Great Society's dark underbelly. 

This all changed one evening when Lady Le-En came to Mei's to call on Roku. 

It was a sweltering evening, at the height of the summer heat, and the old south-side building that the brothel occupied was mercilessly non air-conditioned. It was far too hot for sex and business was slow. All the girls were crammed together in the small break-room around a small portable air-conditioning unit, stripped to their skin, just trying to fend of the heat. The door opened, letting in a blast of hot air, and a murmur of unhappy groans.

"Roku..." the Old Matron pushed her head around the door.

"What?" Roku was spread eagle on the floor, her head beside the vidscreen, her legs draped over Ciki's naked stomach.

"A trick," the Old Matron said without editorial comment.

Roku raised her head, "What? In this heat?" 

"Paid in advance, or I won't have bothered you..." the Old Matron's head vanished, then reappeared through the door. "She's an old friend..."

That made Roku curious. She stood up and found her dressing gown. She carefully stepped through the minefield of bodies spread across the floor of the break-room and made her way up the backstairs to her room.

Lady Le-En was waiting for Roku, sitting on the bed, testing the tensile strength of a length of rope, when Roku stepped in. She was, as always, in white. This time a short dress with matching shiny, white pumps. She looked up from her rope and gave Roku a warm smile.

"My, haven't we stepped up in the world..." Lady Le-En said, holding her grin, showing Roku the rope.

"I'll just be a second..." Roku held the dressing gown tight around her, looking around for her costume. She was mess... Sweaty, no makeup... She would need a shower and...

"No, no, I'm not here for any of that," Lady Le-En said, gesturing at the stocking Roku had picked up. "Get dressed. Properly dressed, we're going out."

"I-" Roku opened her mouth, then closed it. She hadn't seen Lady Le-En since that night at the Sentinel Tower, when Roku had assumed Lady Le-En's rightful place at Lady Aru's side. The word was that Lady Le-En had been in hospital -- rehab -- after an overdose of Res. If it was true, she looked in phenomenal shape, sitting on Roku's bed. The platinum blond of her hair shined in the dim lights of the Art Deco Boudoir; her skin a soft silkiness to it. "I-I'm working," Roku finished.

"Yes you are," Le-En said, standing up, dropping the rope. "For me. I have you for the evening. Paid in full. We're celebrating." She said with a laugh. At least she seemed sober. 

"Last time we celebrated, I got a crack across the mouth..." Roku reminded, still holding her dressing gown tight around her.

"Oh..." Lady Le-En gave a dismissive gesture. "But until then, you were having a good time. I think, a very good time... To find you working here. When did that start?"

Roku didn't answer. Lady Le-En didn't wait for one.

"I've been away, you know..." She began to pace around the room, looking at the Art Deco props. "Too much of the sweet stuff. Hospital, then rehab, then Lady Aru sent me to a clinic in Geneva... They do a new type of genetic resequancing... For addicts... Did you know they can give you allergies now, as well as cure them? Yes, it's true. Lady Aru had them resequance my DNA to give me a fatal allergy to Res. If I ever drink again, I'll die..." She laughed at this, but there was no humor in her cackle. "Can you believe that? That's my loving, dear wife for you..."

"I'm sorry," was all Roku could think to say, but she wasn't. It actually sounded like a good idea to Roku.

"So I'm celebrating!" Le-En said with a theatric whirl. "Life without Res. Lady Aru is letting me out for the evening and told me you were working her. Suggested I come down and have some fun." She said 'fun' like she meant anything but. "So, here I am, and fun we will be having..."

"But not here?" 

"No," Le-En said, fanning her face, "it's took fucking hot for fucking. And, besides..." She looked Roku up and down, standing there with the dressing gown around her. "the bud is off the rose, if you know what I mean..."

Roku knew what she meant.

Roku got dressed in a simple, black Art Deco dress from the wardrobe of her room. It was a costume, centuries out of style, but funky enough for Roku to pull off in a chic, hipster sort of fashion. Pumps, a handbag for her burner and Roku was ready to go. She followed Lady Le-En up to street level, where a ubiquitous white town car was waiting. In the back, Roku recognized the leather clad driver -- she was beginning to know the Ober Guards on a first name basis. The town car pulled away and started out off the long, dark alley, turned left into the abandoned, quiet streets of the south-side.

"Dare I ask where we're going?" Roku asked when the car was moving, a small compact out, applying lipstick. 

"You don't trust me?" Lady Le-En smiled.

"No."

"What do you do when you can't drink and it's too hot to fuck?" she asked.

"What?" Roku was finished with her makeup and put it away.

"Go to the Cabaret..."

Roku waited for the punchline. There wasn't one. 

"Seriously?" she asked.

"Seriously." Le-En replied.

Roku couldn't help but smile.

The town car pulled to a halt a few minutes later in front of an massive, but decapitated old marquee. 'Pantages' the sign advertised, but the old theatre looked abandoned. The neon was dead, and one of the a's of the sign was completely missing; but the town car driver stepped out and opened the rear door for Lady Le-En and Roku.

"Here?" Roku said, looking up and the dark sign.

"Here," Le-En said, stepping out on the sidewalk.

"What sort of Cabaret do they have down here?" Roku asked, now out of the car, too.

"Oh, only the very best..." Le-En smiled.

Roku felt a tingle down the back of her spine. The last time her mission had born fruit was the night Lady Le-En had taken her, for the first time, to Mei's... All the time Roku had since wasted sitting on the faces of Sub-Commissars, spanking the asses of Vice Committee Chairs... She'd seen nothing of the seamier side of the Great Society. But ten minutes in the company of Lady Le-En and she was going to some illicit, south-side club... Those ten minutes were worth more than three months of Roku's own investigations. Roku couldn't help feel more than a little foolish.

They walked down the side of the old theatre, coming to a stage door need the back of the building. There was a small line of well dressed women milling around, waiting by the door; but Lady Le-En blew right past them, speaking momentarily with the usher at the door, then taking Roku's hand and stepping inside. 

At lest it was air-conditioned, the dry coldness hitting Roku the second she stepped through the door. Everything was dark, but as Roku's eyes adjusted, she became aware of the diameter and width of the large room she had entered. A cluster of twenty or so tables sat before a small stage. It was a small venue, lit only by the hollow candles that cast shadows across the faces of the other patrons, but it seemed busy. Most of the tables already occupied and Lady Le-En strode confidently up to a table directly in front of the stage. 

The show was already starting. Flood light caming up and momentarily blinding Roku. When her eyes had adjusted again, a woman was on the stage starting to sing a number. She had short, black hair and was dressed in a pinstriped suit. She had a black mustache pained under her nose and sang her song in a low, droning tone.

It was a drag show.

The singer's song was an old ballad, something about women not loving him and how he might die from loneliness. A subdued titter of laughter came up from the audience. It didn't seem to phase the performer. She carried on with her song undaunted, perhaps exaggerating her male impression even more. When the song was finished, the audience exploded into thunderous applause. The singer took her bow, obviously happy with her performance. Roku clapped as loud as she could, letting herself whistle in appreciation. It was all, obviously, in good fun. Roku was going to enjoy the evening.

When the lights faded, a waitresses came by for drink orders, but Lady Le-En quickly waved her away. A minute later and the lights were come back up onto a full set, made up to look like some sort of store.

It was a comedy skit that soon had the whole room howling with laugher. One woman played the part of the shopkeeper; another was a government official, investigating allegations that the store was selling contraband items. The shopkeeper was playing it innocent, not understanding what she sold that could possibly be interpreted as illegal. The investigator started reading a list of items, each more ridiculous than the next, that could, after a fashion, be interpreted as a phallus. Bananas, turkey basters, compact umbrellas... All produced for comic effect by the shopkeeper and shown to be perfectly harmless -- the umbrella being suddenly opened after a long discussion about where such a shaped item might be shoved. It was enough to make your eyes water...

The skit ended with one final item that the shopkeeper couldn't satisfactorily explain an innocent purpose for; ending with the punch line 'no, it's not for putting in your jane, it's for shoving up your ass...' The room exploded into applause and laughter. Well, perhaps you had to be thre, but Roku could help but enjoy the show. The pair had perfect comic timing and the risky subject matter... The audience was have a great time, too. As the lights dimmed, the waitresses were again moving amongst the tables. Roku was having such a good time, she ordered a drink. It arrived just as the lights were coming up on the next act.

This act was a stripper in feathered boas and long dress. Roku didn't see how it fit with the theme of the other acts, but the crowd was enjoying the spectacle. As the clothes came off, the audience hooted their approval. The dress dropped to reveal the strippers figure and full breasts which she giggled hypnotically. Roku had never seen a real stripper. She understood the concept, had heard girls talking about it in the brothel, but the real thing was far more compelling than she'd realized. She was considering adding something like it to her own repertoire, when the stripper reached the climax of her act: Her panties went down and revealed... 

The audience went wild -- applause and screams of approval. Roku was stunned, sitting not two meters away. The stripper was a he. His penis stood up erect, as the applause washed over her -- hairless and pink in the warm stage lights. Roku looked over to see Lady Le-En laughing and clapping. Roku realized she was the only person in the room shocked by the sight. She recovered and started to applaud. Right there, right in front of her, was a man blatantly exhibiting his gender. Roku looked at the hard, swollen penis with wide eyes. The stripper curtsied slightly to the crowd, blew a few kisses, and curtsied off stage. 

"By the Holy Matron..." Roku whispered to Lady Le-En. The lights went down, and the waitresses were doing their job.

"Fucking crazy shit, huh?" Lady Le-En said, unthinkingly reaching out for Roku's glass. She had it halfway to her lips before she realized and put it back down on the table.

"That-" Roku started to say too loud, "that was a man..."

"Yeah, fucking crazy!" Le-En was still smiling, "I didn't see that coming!"

"But... That was a man..." Roku emphasized. 

"Yes." Lady Le-En punctuated, reminding Roku she was becoming a bore. "I know."

Roku left it alone.

She was flabbergasted. The Nanpa Girls had been one thing, they'd been predictors, but this was a Dick waving his... Well, dick around like it was something he didn't need to hide. Alright, the whole evening was illegal. The drag show, the jokes about Commissariat officials, any of that stuff would get the whole room thrown in prison for more years than they could count. But a man... He had to be backstage as Roku was sitting there, taking to the other performers, discussing how the show was going. They must be treating him like a human being -- like a woman. Roku felt faint. A burning feeling rose inside her like she'd just been slapped in the face. It was insulting, it was disgusting, it was vile. Roku resisted the urge to get up and storm out, though she knew she should. 

But what would that accomplish?

She reached down and found her purse. Her hand slipped inside and she made sure her burner was there. Sure enough, the compact burner was, the one that Lt. Zee had given her to replace the one taken into evidence after the killings in that apartment. She could go backstage and put a bolt though that stripper right now and she'd probably get a medal, but that wouldn't accomplish anything. Roku took a sip of her drink. She let herself calm down. As her brain began to work again, she began to realize the potential of the situation she had found herself in. Men moving freely amongst women. She'd found the exposed underbelly of the Great Society she'd been looking for -- she'd found the place where men and women intermingled, the Dick Terrorist and their sympathizers. Her anger began to give way to excitement. If she could just keep her head and not act like a fool and start shooting too soon, she could potentially bust open the whole sleeper cell; uncover the whole nest of Dick Terrorists and their treasonous collaborators that Roku was just now seeing the periphery of. If she could just keep her head and not start shooting, things could turn out very well...

"You want to see more?" Lady Le-En leaned over and asked, bringing Roku out of her musings. "I'm hungry..."

"I want to meet the stripper..." Roku replied, finishing the last of her drink.

"You want to-" Lady Le-En gave Roku a quizzical look. "No, lets go get some dinner..."

"I want to meet that stripper," Roku insisted. "You said we were going to have some fun. I want to talk to that man. I've never talked to one before."

"I said we were celebrating," Le-En reminded, "talking to a Dick doesn't sound like celebrating."

"Fine, I'll go talk to him myself." Roku started to stand.

"Hey, I paid for the whole evening," Le-En said, grabbing Roku's arm.

"You can have a refund," Roku pulled her arm away. 

"Okay, okay..." Le-En said quickly, realizing Roku was serious. "If that's what you want to do, let's go talk to the Dick." Lady Le-En stood and began to follow Roku. "Finger the fucking Matron!" Lady Le-En added as they were walking to the door beside the stage. "I liked it better when you were shining my shoes..." 

Roku smiled, "It didn't cost you five grand, then..."

Lady Le-En didn't argue.

Le-En stepped first through the door and back stage, Roku following behind. Le-En had a quick word with a stage manager, who nodded knowingly, and pointed back to the rear of the wings. Taking Roku's hand, Lady Le-En led her back until they came to a line of small dressing rooms. At the farthest door from the stage, Lady Le-En stopped and knocked.

"Come in!" a voice said from inside.

Inside the stripper was still half naked. Her panties covered up her groin, but she was toweling off her large, full boobs -- the nipples small and hard.

"Good evening..." Lady Le-En said, stepping into the dressing room. Roku held her purse in her hands and stood silently beside Le-En, staring.

"Are you enjoy the show?" The stripper asked. Her voice was high and pitch perfect, nothing like the low groan of the drag act. Apart from the slight bulge in her panties, there was nothing about the stripper that give Roku any clue that she was anything less than a perfect woman. The breasts, the hips, the thighs... 

Lady Le-En elbowed Roku.

"Yes, thank you," Roku blurted out. She had said she wanted to talk to the stripper. "Your act is full of surprises..." 

The stripper smiled, slyly, "Nobody ever see it coming..." she winked.

"You don't-" Roku started then stopped.

"Look like the men in the movies?" The stripper was done with the towel and tossed it aside, she sat down at the makeup table and started to pull off her fake eyelashes. "No, we don't anymore, sweetie. That was generations ago."

"But, in school, they say there's only men..." Roku played the ignorant school girl.

"In space?" the stripper looked up from the mirror, only one eyelash on. "Do they really still say that?" 

Lady Le-En stifled a giggle. Roku gave her a curious look. Roku knew she was playing stupid, but she didn't know what she said that was funny...

"No, honey, men live right here on earth with all-you-all women, just like it's always been, but we're different now, see?" She held forward her large breasts as if that explained something. "We're like you but not like you... You understand?"

"Not really..." Roku admitted. 

"Well, don't worry your pretty little head about it," the stripper said, returning her attention to the makeup mirror. "We ain't terrorists or guerrillas or any sort of shit like that. We're just people living our lives, there ain't nothing nobody needs to fear from us..."

Yeah right, Roku thought, ever meet any Nanpa Girls? but she didn't say anything.

"Come on," Lady Le-En said, taking Roku's arm, "I'm hungry."

14. Moll Flanders

Roku passed the rest of the evening with Lady Le-En. They ate and talked and laughed; and at about midnight, took the town car back out of town. With the heat and the lack of Res, Lady Le-En was in no mood for romance and dropped Roku back on campus, with a terse goodbye. 

It'd been a pleasant enough evening, but try as she might, Roku couldn't get that Dick stripper out of her mind. The causal, almost lazy way the Dick had explained away her presence on earth. It was like Roku should expect to see transsexual Dicks wandering the streets everyday... Perhaps she did, and that thought worried Roku. She had, once again, seen a male up close and personal and been unable to tell one apart from a real female. They were perfect facsimiles. Half the population of the planet earth could be male and Roku would have been none the wiser.

Roku's mission was clear.

Roku was a Hatchette. Hatchettes killed men. There were no parameters or limitations to her mission -- no factors that needed to be taken into account. That she'd had a conversation with a male and he'd seemed very reasonable and personable; that men looked and sounded almost exactly like women; that women as powerful and well connected as Lady Le-En seemed to be collaborating with the enemy; all of this was no concern of Roku's. It was Roku's duty to seek out and destroy, exterminate men, and Roku had no intention of failing in her mission.

The next day, Roku requisitioned a ground car from Lt. Zee. There were a number of vehicles set aside for Hatchette use. The Cabaret was over for the week, but the next performance would be that coming Friday. Roku spent her time in preparation -- when not in school or called to the service of Lady Aru. She asked around at the Cabaret and got names and numbers of many of these connected to the show. She called or visited some, asking discreetly about the stripper, but they were all a closed mouth lot, as could be understood. They knew what they were doing was illegal and anyone asking around, even a young girl, arose suspicion. Roku didn't discover much, just that the stripper's real name was Tro.




Hatchette Ch. 13-14



Frustrated, Roku realized that she'd have to wait -- wait for the next Cabaret performance -- outside, in the car, and follow Tro home. Roku planned to kill the stripper, as her ordered demanded, but she wanted all the intelligence she could gather first. Roku was curious: Exactly how how big a warren of males she had stumbled upon?

The Hatchette car came equipped with a standard issue weapons package in the trunk: Auto-burner, hydro armor, a dozen plasma grenades. On the Thursday before the Cabaret, Roku drove out deep into the woods and checked over the weapons. They seemed dusty and unused and assembled by hands that were unfamiliar with their function. She field stripped everything and reassembled them the way she'd been taught in Hatchette training. Satisfied with her workmanship, she fired off a few rounds from the auto-burner into the tree, found everything in working order and packed the weapons back into the car. If, by chance, Tro lead Roku back to a sleeper cell of Dick terrorists, Roku wanted to be ready. After the Nanpa Girls and that humiliating experience, Roku was itching for a rematch. This time, no one would be catching Roku off guard, on her knees, naked with a dick in her mouth...

The next night, Roku drove herself to the south-side and parked a few black away from the Pantages. She'd dressed in black capri pants for the occasion, with a black t-shirt and a pair of heavy combat boots. It was hot -- too damn hot for such an outfit, but Roku knew she'd want to be wearing more than flip-flops and cutoffs that evening. 

Guests were arriving and vanished down the side alley, just as Lady Le-En and Roku had done the week before. Roku stayed in her car. She couldn't risk going down into the Cabaret herself, after asking all those questions, even if its air-conditioning would have been a welcome thing. No, she'd have to sweat it out in the car. Roku might be recognized and she didn't want to spook the stripper before she'd had the chance to follow her.

It was a long, dull wait in the sweltering heat of the summer night.

Minutes turned into hours, and hours stacked up on each other. The audience emerged around midnight, but the performers didn't ascend until one. The singer, the comedians and then finally Tro appeared out of the alley in the company of a number of the chorus line girls. They stood talking at the mouth of the alley for over fifteen minutes before parting way with hugs and kisses. The girls heading west and Tro heading east.

She was on foot. Roku realized her car would do her no good. Tro clicked off in her heels down the street as Roku watched her. She took a corner a block or so down and Roku opened her door and sprinted after. Arriving at the corner, pressed flat against the stone wall, Roku stole a quick glance around. She could see Tro a hundred meters down the block, illuminated in the yellow light of an old style street lamp. She was turning another corner, freeing Roku to sprint the distance between the two corners in her heavy combat boots. 

At the new corner, Roku peeped around, watching as Tro took the steps up the front of a old, dirty brownstone building, searching around in her purse. She pulled out a set of keys and put one into the lock of the brownstone's front door. Without looking back, unaware that she was being followed, Tro stepped inside.

Three block from the theatre... Roku could kick herself. She looked up and studied the street sign above her head, letting out a short laugh. She was less than a quarter mile from the alley down which Mei's lay... All these months, all the plotting, all the schemes, all the lures to attract males... If she'd just walked the neighborhood and knock on doors, she'd have found her quarry in an afternoon...

Live and learn, Roku told herself, stepping out openly into the street. Tro was now inside and Roku no longer needed to hide. She walked slowly, as casually as she could muster, down the street towards the brownstone. There was a small neon sign beside the front steps, with an arrow pointing down, advertising some sort of bar or restaurant in the basement. Tro had gone up, into the building proper, not down, but Roku was curious... She paused on the sidewalk in front of the brownstone, looking up at the door though which Tro had stepped, and then down at the basement bar. The place was a Pub, and Irish Pub called Moll Flanders. Roku hesitated. She should go back to her car and pop the trunk, pull out the auto-burner that she had hidden there and come back armed. But instead she took the steps down towards the basement bar, tucking her hands into the pockets of her black capri pants. 

The bar was small, smoky and loud. It was dominated by a large, traditional bar, set against the back wall, with bottle after bottle of liquor stacked behind it. The expected taps for beer were positioned at the expected places at the bar, but no one in the Pub seemed to be drinking it. The dozen women who sat on stools, or at small tables up against the walls, were drinking Res from small shot glasses and smoking cigarettes. All eyes turned to look at Roku the moment she stepped through the door. 

Roku wasn't welcome there.

She could feel the vibe the second the door closed behind her. There were no smiles -- no one suggestively looked Roku up and down. The two dozen or so eyes simply glared at Roku, telling her this wasn't the sort of bar she should stop for a drink in.

Roku knew she had found what she was looking for.

Taking her hands out of her pockets, Roku walked up to the bar and smiled at the barmaid. She was a heavyset, thick necked woman with red permed hair. She frowned back at Roku, drying a glass with a dish towel in her hands. 

"Good evening-" Roku began to say to no one in particular. 

"You got any ID?" the barmaid interrupted, "you don't look old enough to drink here." she accused.

"I'm eighteen," Roku replied, now on the defensive.

"The hell you are!" the barmaid let out an indigent grunt. She raised a chubby fingered and pointed back at the door. "How about you comeback in a year or so, sweetheart..."

"But, I'm meeting a friend here..." Roku lied. She looked around at the faces of the women sitting at the bar. They were all looking over at Roku, looking her over through the cigarette smoke. None of them could have been under forty -- everyone in the bar seemed to be in their middle-age. Was that their objection to Roku? Or was it something else...

"Oh yeah, who?" the barmaid said, putting down her dry glass and picking up a wet one.

"Tro. Doesn't she live upstairs?" Roku replied. The barmaid looked up from her drying -- Roku had caught her attention.

"Tro?" the barmaid parroted, giving Roku a sideways glance. "She's meeting you in here?"

"That's what she said..." Roku played it dumb, with a shrug of her shoulders. "So, can I get a drink while I'm waiting?"

"Why don't I give Tro a call?" the barmaid said suspiciously, putting down her glass and towel.

"Great, can I still get that drink?" Roku leaned forward, elbows on the bar, she looked over at the woman to her immediate left and smiled. "How you doing?" she said conversationally.

The barmaid reached under the bar and came up with the handset to an old style, wired phone. She didn't dial any number, just raised the earpiece and listened. Roku waited, with a stupid grid on her face, looking distractedly around the bar, playing the innocent she hoped everyone believed her to be. The barmaid listened at the phone, nodded her head silently in reply to something, then returned the handset back under the bar. Roku noticed her had didn't reemerge...

"She ain't ever heard of you..." the barmaid said tersely.

"I didn't even tell you my name..." Roku protested.

"Well... She still ain't ever heard of you. She ain't expected any visitors. Not tonight, not ever. Why don't you get along, little lady..." The barmaid stood still there behind the bar, her hand still out of sight.

"No drink?" Roku protested and laughed at her own joke. She looked around as if she expected the other patrons to think she was funny. They didn't.

"Why don't you go drink somewhere else," the woman to Roku's right offered, "before there's trouble."

"Trouble?" Roku raised her voice, incredulously. "Who said anything about trouble? I just want an fucking drink. This is a bar, isn't it?"

"We don't serve underage kids," the barmaid said flatly. 

"I said I was eighteen," Roku protested, putting her hands palm down on the bar and leaning forward, aggressively. "I want to be served, damn it!" 

"And I said get out," the barmaid replied, calmly. The woman to Roku's left and right decided this was the moment to get up off their stools. They might have known what was coming next, or the the might have been maneuvering to flank Roku. Luckily, Roku could keep an eye on them in the reflections off the various liquor bottles behind the bar. 

"What kind of bar is this?" Roku said loudly, so she could be heard by the whole room. "I come in here, say I'm meeting a friend, and I get treated like a criminal! You know what I think? I think something shady is going on here. I think, maybe, I should just give the cops a call..." Roku paused to make sure everything was listening. She looked around into the stony gazes of the silent patrons. "How about that, huh? Get a police asking around down here? Turning over a few stones? Maybe looking into exactly what it is you're serving behind that bar?"

The Pub was deathly quiet. Everyone waited for the barmaid's reaction.

"Okay, okay kid," the barmaid said contritely, still not raising her hand from under the bar. "Maybe one drink. There's no need for any bad blood. Maybe you're eighteen, maybe you're seventeen. What do I care?" 

The barmaid's free hand went under the bar and came out with a glass. She reached down again and came back with a bottle. She poured Roku a full shot of Res, never once moving the hidden hand from beneath the bar. 

"Here," she said, with a gesture at the full glass, "drink up and lets be friends." Her lips curled like she was trying to smile -- like it was a physical act of torture to get her face to assume that position.

Roku picked up her glass and raised it under her nose. She took a long sniff, then held it still, in front of her lips, like she was contemplating what was to come.

"There," she said, affecting an air of smug satisfaction, "was that so hard?" She was moving the glass of Res towards her lips...

She was painfully aware of how intently the whole bar was watching her take her drink. She could feel the seconds as they crawled passed, the glass of Res making slow progress to her lips. Automatically, her bionics were clicking on. The battle sub-processor in her brain -- the computer that occupied not an insignificant portion of her left frontal lobe -- was suddenly piping her combat data: Extrapolated positions of potential targets, both in view and out of the field of vision; relative suitability as improved weapons of various items easily within arm's reach; blood pressure, oxygen and adrenal levels; potential escape and evasion pre-plotted routes; everything that Roku was about to need. 

That hand, under the bar -- Roku knew the barmaid was holding onto a weapon. The battle sub-processor gave it an eighty-two percent chance of being a plasma weapon. And the woman to Roku's right, the one who'd suggested it was time for Roku to leave, Roku could see in the reflection of a bottle of vodka that she had a hand under her blouse, searching for some sort of weapon. That woman and the woman to Roku's left were each exactly one hundred and twenty degrees behind her, in a perfectly executed ambush maneuver. They'd strike simultaneously with the barmaid, Roku knew, for maximum effect...

...But they were unaware they were fighting a Hatchette. 

Three against one -- well, twelve against one, when you got right down to it -- everyone but the barmaid standing behind their target. But Roku still have the element of surprise. Roku made a motion, like she was about to knock back her glass of Res -- all in one, with a gulp; with the smug, idiotic superiority Roku had attempted to display. That was their queue, they all moved to attack at once. The barmaid came up with the burner in her hand; the woman to Roku's right pulled a blade from under her blouse and the woman to Roku's left lept forward with both hand for Roku's throat. 

But Roku drink didn't touch her lips -- she didn't tilt her head back as they expected, enjoying everything milliliter of the tick, syrupy Res. No, as the barmaid's burner came up, Roku thrust the glass forward, tossing its contents at the rising gun. Before the barmaid could level her weapon, it was already soaked in slick Res. 

There's something about plasma weapons everything should probably know -- it's the first thing they teach you in weapon's training -- you have to be really careful never to get them wet.

A plasma bolt de-encapsulates when it enters the body of its target. That's how it kills -- all that energy, instantly released when the magnetic field that's holding the bolt together breaks down. It's the water in the human body that does this -- de-magnetices the plasma bolt -- the specific heat of water is too great for the energy bolt, it can't heat it up fast enough for the plasma bolt to pass through it, like air. So it explodes. Brilliantly, with a spectacular amount of damage. But any water will make the plasma bolt de-encapsulate. That's how a hydro vest works, it's simply bags of water that cause the bolt to explode on the outside of the wearer instead of the inside. Get a burner wet and, well... If the bolt explodes while it's still in the barrel...

The barmaid's burner exploded taking her hand and most of her forearm with it. She crashed back up against the bar, smashing into the odd assortment of liquor bottles stacked there. The alcohol, added to the barmaid's already superheated flesh, mixed to engulf her in an impressive fireball -- the barmaid letting out a blood curdling scream as she self-immolated. 

The woman to Roku's right came at her with the knife. Roku extended her leg and caught the woman solidly in the stomach. She crumpled back, the wind taken out of her, and Roku spun on her left leg, throwing a punch into the face of the woman attacking from the left. That woman took the punch squarely in the nose and stagged back with a stream of blood from her nostrils. Roku came around, three sixty and threw a second punch at the winded woman to the right. Roku caught her in the chin and sent her collapsing to the floor. Roku planted her feet firmly on the ground just in time for the second wave of attackers to hit her. 

The rest of the bar was up on its feet now, charging towards Roku; but the lay of the tables and chairs on the floor meant they could only practically attack Roku in a single file. Roku met each one in turn as they attacked her with an assortment of weapons: knives, blackjacks, a couple old model burners. Roku made quick work of each one in order, disarming them and delivering a knockout blow. The fight was over in under a minute, leaving Roku standing amongst a pile of prone bodies.

The fire behind the bar, that had once been the fat barmaid, was really starting to burn. Smoke was filling the Pub. Roku would have to work fast. She picked up, off the floor, the pair of old model burners two of her attackers had been carrying. She checked the pulse of one of the unconscious women. Still beating, she found -- but the smoke would soon take care of that. Roku groped at the woman's chest: Full, normal breasts. Then Roku felt down between the woman's legs. There it was, even through the fabric of the woman's pants, Roku could feel it. Just to be sure, she slipped her hand down inside the waistband. Sure enough, the flesh of a small, flaccid penis was hiding down there, between the legs of an otherwise normal looking middle-aged woman. Roku didn't have to check the others, she knew what'd she'd find. The ferocity with which they had attacked Roku, their coordinated assault. This wasn't just a den of wary criminals, these were trained and hardened Dick Terrorists. Moll Flanders was a Dick bar. And with Tro living upstairs... The whole building must be lousy with them...

The smoke was beginning to choke Roku. She cut across to her internal oxygen supply, with the carbon dioxide scrubber. It was an emergency backup implant, but it allowed Roku to go almost twenty minutes without breathing. However, it did nothing to stop the smoke stinging at Roku's eyes and she moved quickly towards the exit. 

That's when she first heard the alarm. 

Not a fire alarm -- no, that would have been a loud klaxon, designed to get everyone's attention -- this was an almost imperceptible ringing in some far off room, deep inside the build above. It was at the very limit of Roku's enhanced hearing, but it was definitely there. One of her attackers must have had time to push a panic button, setting off an alarm higher up in the brownstone. Roku's battle sub-processor was already computing the implications. It was throwing up potential ambush choke points -- it was giving a ninety percent chance that they'd been armed assailants waiting for Roku at the top of the front steps of the brownstone. With the height advantage and full coverage of the street for hundreds of meters in both directions, the computer was giving Roku less than three percent chance of successfully escaping. 

She'd have to stay and fight. There'd be backstairs, Roku concluded, and turned away from the exit. She stepped deeper into the choking smoke, navigating by touch. She could feel the heat of the inferno that was behind the bar and skirted it to the right. She dropped to her knees and crawled as the smoke thickened. She came to doors that seemed to lead to a bathroom, then a back door with stairs beyond. 

That was what she was looking for. She jumped to her feet and took the stairs up. One flight, and she put she shoulder into the door, dumping her out into the brownstone's lobby. Sure enough, the battle sub-processor's predictions had been correct, two woman stood at the front door of the building, looking down at the street. They were dressed in their underwear, obviously sleeping when the alarm roused them. Their backs were to Roku, but they turned as Roku piled through the stairwell door. Their auto-burners came swinging around, but Roku was already firing. A plasma bolt from each handgun hit each woman dead center in the chest before they could snap off a shot. 

Roku didn't have time to see them fall. From behind her, someone was firing a burner. The door to the stairwell hadn't completely closed and a plasma bolt exploded against it. Roku lept forward and rolled. She came up shooting, blind down the dark corridor. Two, three, four shots. As the bolts exploded, she could see the silhouette of a figure flailing wildly. 

Roku's roll had brought her to the base of the brownstone's main stairs. The sound of feet moving above could be heard -- moving down the stairs towards her. Roku raised her burners, thrusting them out in front of her, akimbo. She started up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time -- almost sprinting. From doors and around corners figures were appearing. Roku fired, pumping at the triggers. She crested the first flight of stairs, circled the landing, and started up the next flight; all the while throwing plasma bolts at any target that presented itself. Her aim was true, she didn't waste a shot. Bodies were falling out of doorways, torn apart horribly by the energy weapons. Plasma bolts exploded around Roku, but none found their mark. The residents of the Dick brownstone were panicking and shooting wildly -- attempting to escape and fight simultaneously.

Up the next flight, and Roku was at the top of the building. Here a few targets presented themselves, but Roku dispatched them without consideration. Her left burner was empty and she tossed it aside. The burner in her right hand was also low on ammunition. Roku considered searching each of the rooms that faced onto the landing, but the smoke from the fire in the basement bar was already wafting up the stairwell. It wouldn't be long before the whole brownstone was engulfed in flames. 




Hatchette Ch. 13-14



Roku would let the fire do its work. 

She turned and started back down the stairs. No one accosted her on her way down. Anyone in the building that was interested in a fight, she had already killed. Flames were licking out of the basement windows of Moll Flanders as Roku trotted down the front steps of the brownstone. The street was silent, the sound of gunfire had attracted no attention. Looking left then right, Roku attempted to calm herself. Her bionic were still running, and the instinct to kill was hard to abruptly end. 

With no one in sight, Roku tossed the last burner aside and started down the street, back towards her car. As she turned the first corner, the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance. Back at the car, Roku looked back and could just make out the faint glow against the clouds of the burning brownstone behind the rooftops.

It must be really burning now, Roku thought, climbing into her car.



Hatchette Ch. 15



15. H-Hour

Roku stopped at a pay phone north of the river, calling the number she had for the Hatchette cleaners. This time, she didn't wait around for the paramedics or the evidence technicians. She drove back to St. Juliet's and slipped through a back door into the dormitories. She collapsed, still fully clothed, into her bunk and fell rapidly asleep. 

She expected, the next day, for Lt. Zee to call or visit, for the debrief; but the day passed like any other. There was nothing on the vidcast news about the fire or the gun battle, nothing in the reactive papers, but that was to be expected. The Commissariat wouldn't want to panic the public. But Roku still expected a debrief; if nothing else, a pat on the back and an acknowledgement of a job well done. But no call came, Lt. Zee's VTOL never showed up over the sports fields beside the school. Roku kept filing her reports daily and perusing whatever leads she could muster on more Dick activity, but no more orders came down from Command. 

In fact, it wasn't until the news broke that First Commissar Es had died, that Roku heard from Lt. Zee. 

It was three weeks after Roku's battle at Moll Flanders. The solemn face of the news anchor on channel 132 had broken in to the regularly scheduled program, informing the world that First Commissar Es had passed away, peacefully, in her sleep. Roku had been in the dorms when she first heard the news -- the girls gathered around the vidscreen. The news seemed to hit everyone but Roku very hard. Many girls broke down into tears. Perhaps because Roku was aware of Lady Es' true age, the news didn't hit her quite as severely, but she had to remind herself that most of the public thought of Lady Es as a young woman. Still, it was tragic news. The mother of the Great Society had died. Who would replace her? Who could possible ever fill the shoes of Lady Es?

Roku knew.

That night, Roku had taken the trolley to the brothel, as usual. She was planning to give it up -- the whoring -- since it'd completely failed in every way to smoke out any sex starved males; but she had a small list of powerful, regular customers that she needed to keep serving, and she didn't want to raise suspicions by simpling hanging them out to dry. It'd be a quiet night, she knew, what with the horrible news. She could imagine the whole universe, right then, being turned upside down for the occupants of Sentinel Tower. They'd have little time to sneak off to the south-side for a little jane.

Roku had just arrived in her room, and was just begun to change her clothes, when Lt. Zee stepped in to the room.

Roku was bare chested when she turned to face Lt. Zee. Roku began to speak, but the look of pained consternation on Lt. Zee's face made her pause. Lt. Zee stepped forward and roughly planned a kiss on Roku's lips. Her arms wrapped around Roku's middle and pulled her in close. Her tongue thrust between Roku's lips before Roku realized what was happening. She uncomfortably began to return Lt. Zee's kiss, welcoming the advance, but she still socked and surprised by it.

Lt. Zee broken her mouth away and pushed Roku hard down onto the bed. Her eyes burned with lust, looking over the length of Roku's lithe body. She fumbled frantically at the buttons of her dress blouse, untucking it from her skirt. They were going to fuck, Roku realized, shocked. Where was this coming from? Lt. Zee had her blouse open now, relieving her large, soft breasts packed up inside her bra. Roku unbuttoned her cutoffs and slipped them down her legs, kicking them off the bed. She was totally naked now and lay back with her knees up, legs wide. Lt. Zee was looking down at Roku's jane as she unsnapped her bra. She pulled it off and her breasts swung free.

Topless, Lt. Zee dropped forward and planned her mouth squarely in the center of Roku's jane. Her tongue circled then thrust inside. She pushed Roku's thighs further apart and lapped ravenously. Roku moaned as teeth found her clitoris and playfully bit at it. Fingers were probing and Roku ran her hands through Zee's long, dark hair. 

Suddenly, Lt. Zee was up, kissing Roku's lips again. Frantic hands were pulling at her skirt. Roku bit at Zee's lower lip and helped her off with her clothes -- skirt and panties. Then Zee was crawling up over Roku, her knees by Roku's ears. She lowered the pinkness of her jane's lips down onto Roku's mouth, and Roku licked them dutifully. Lt. Zee squirmed back and forth, side to side on Roku's moving tongue. Her breath began to labor as she was approaching a climax. 

Just before the moment of truth, she climbed free of Roku's tongue and scissored herself between Roku's legs. Jane to jane, she began to grind her hips into Roku. Clits rubbed against clits. They tribbed like that for less than a minute before Lt. Zee's orgasm erupted. She fell back onto the bed, keeping their legs scissored together, holding them there. Roku bucked her hips a little, she was still a long way off from being done, but Lt. Zee didn't respond. And then, as frantically as she'd gotten undressed, Lt. Zee was up putting her clothes back on again.

"I-" Roku said, still laying back on the bed. She slid her hand between her legs, showing the Lieutenant that she still needed her. Lt. Zee didn't bother with her underwear. She had her skirt back on, shoes, and she finished buttoning up her blouse. She didn't look at Roku, she just gathered up her bra and panties and was out the door. 

Roku was left there all alone. 

That should have at least cost her one hundred and fifty, Roku smiled. Wll, there was nothing else for Roku to do... She circled her clit with her fingers and lay there frigging at her own jane. Lt. Zee's taste was still on her lips and it didn't take many minutes before Roku was done. 

She lay there naked, not bothering to get up, looking at the door Lt. Zee had come in and gone out of. What the hell was that about? Roku wondered. Something about the whole thing sat heavy in Roku's chest. Somehow, she got the feeling she'd never be seeing Lt. Zee again...



Hatchette Ch. 16



16. The Holy Matron

The next day, Pelli and Roku stole a few minutes together between Algebra and Geometry. 

They found an empty Social Studies classroom and sneaked in without drawing too much attention. Pelli was instantly locked to Roku's lips the second they stepped through the door. They had so few of these moments together, alone... They dared not fool around in the dormitories, and The Mosh... Well, The Mosh as was The Mosh....

"I want to eat your jane on the Matron's desk," Roku said to Pelli though their locked lips. Pelli let out a small squeal of excitement, and they move as a duo across the classroom floor. At the desk, Roku lifted Pelli up and sat her down. She reached under Pelli's short, plaid skirt and pulled down her white panties, exposing the fiery redness of her jane. Roku put two fingers in Pelli's mouth and let her suck on them; then, pulling them out, she massaged Pelli's clit with them, circling. 

"I love you," Pelli said, with a satisfied moan.

"I love you, too," Roku replied as she crouched before her. It'd only been the last few weeks that they'd started to say that to each other. If it was true or not, Roku didn't care, it added that little extra bit of something to the sex. Roku buried her face heedlessly into Pelli's warm, wet pussy, flicking her tongue. 

Then the handle of the door turned.

Roku's Hatchette hearing heard it first, but she was still only able to raise to her feet before the door swung open. Pelli didn't have time to fully close her legs, and as the Matron stepped into the classroom, she would have gotten a good solid flash of pubic hair.

There was no hiding what they'd been up to.

The Matron closed the door behind her, acting like nothing was out of the ordinary – not even indicating that she'd seen the two girls. She had a tablet in her hand, and as she crossed the classroom towards her desk, she tapped at its screen. She stepped up to Roku and Pelli, dropped the tablet on the desk behind Pelli's rear, and looked at them for the first time.

"Having fun, ladies?" she said with a lizard grin.

"We were just-" Pelli started, but the Matron reached out with her hands. One to each of Pelli's knees, and she pulled her legs apart. The Matron looked down approvingly at Pelli's exposed jane.

"Oh, I know what you two were just doing..." the Matron reached out with a finger and slipped it gently inside Pelli. Pelli gasped and wiggled uncomfortably on the desk. The finger was joined by another and a thumb pushed hard up against Pelli's clitoris. "Do you like that?" the Matron asked. Pelli moaned and nodded. Then to Roku, "Do you like to watch – watch me finger her?" 

Roku didn't answer, just watched the fingers work.

"Let me see yours," the Matron commanded. Roku knew better than to argue. She reached under her skirt and pulled down her panties. They fell to the floor and she held the front of her skirt up so the Matron could see the black hair of her jane.

The fingers came out of Pelli and came up to Roku's mouth, slipping between her lips. Roku sucked on them, fixing her stare squarely at the Matron. The Matron was loving it, Roku could see, but there was something else in her expression behind that pancake makeup – a wild abandon. The Matron's were perverts, sure, molesting bitches; but there was always a certain self restraint behind their actions. They aways acted to hide their indirections. They were, at least on some level, ashamed of what they did. But that look in this Matron's face... It told Roku that, right then, all bets were off. Something inside the Matron had changed.

"Tasty?" the Matron asked, and Roku nodded. She pulled out her fingers and reached down to the hem of her own dress. "Lets try this one..." she said, pulling up the folds of her black gown. White aged thighs appeared and a pair of cleanly shaved pussy lips. With one hand holding the dress up, the Matron began fingering her own jane, spreading her legs slightly to ease access. 

She masturbated herself for almost a minute, thrusting fingers deep into her vagina, wetting them the best she could. Pelli and Roku watched on in silence. It was quite a show. When the fingers emerged they came up to Roku's mouth and the Matron fed them to her. Roku sucked. They tasted bitter, like all cum.

"You naughty little sluts!" the Matron suddenly scolded. She dropped her dress, pulled her fingers from Roku's mouth and slapped Roku's cheek with the same hand. She struck Roku again, and a third time, then slapped Pelli across the mouth. Roku didn't flinch by Pelli cried in pain.

"Fucking sluts!" The Matron almost screamed. She pulled Pelli off of the desk and spun her around, bending her forward over the desk. She grabbed Roku by the hair and pushed her into position next to Pelli. Then the Matron was searching through her desk, finding her strap.

She's had a psychotic break, Roku fretted. It had only been one day since the death of Lady Es... Was this how the Matron's – only half sane on a good day – were handling the news? Roku worried. If she was unhinged, there was no telling how far she would go. If Roku had to break the Matron's neck to save Pelli from a savage beating – well, that'd do her cover no end of good...

The strap came down across Roku's exposed buttocks; but in a way that wasn't sensual – intended for the Matron's pleasure. This was a real spanking. Half a dozen lashes and then she stuck at Pelli. Pelli only took two and collapsed at the knees, sobbing in pain. The Matron picked Pelli up and gave her two more. Pelli was balling and turning a bright shade of red. 

The Matron returned to Roku and struck her a few more times. Unsatisfied, she pulled Roku up by the hair, and tore open her shirt, sending buttons bouncing off across the classroom floor. The strap came down hard across Roku's exposed breasts, leaving long red welts. Roku didn't flinch. Two, three more, one right across the tip of her nipples. Pelli lay beside the Matron's desk, sobbing into her hands. Roku fixed the Matron was a steady stare. Furious now, the Matron brought back the strap and lashed Roku square across the face. Roku's head recoiled from power of the blow, but she quickly brought her face back, unemotional.

The Matron threw the strap angrily onto the desk. She reached down and roughly pulled Pelli up off the floor. With her other hand on Roku's shoulder, she lead them both towards the door.

"To the Head Matron with you two," she said, seething through clenched teeth. 

She lead Pelli and Roku through the halls, making no attempt to hide exposed breasts or bare asses poking out from under skirts. Pelli balled all the way. Roku was silent. 

At the door of the Head Matron's officer, the Matron pushed Roku and Pell in, not bothering to knock. The Head Matron was sitting behind her desk, working away at a tablet. She looked up with only slight curiosity as the other Matron pushed Roku and Pelli, half naked, down into the two chairs set in front of her desk.

"Two students for disciplinary action," the Matron said, breathing heavy.

"The offense?" the Head Matron asked, not looking up from the tablet.

"Inappropriate physical contact," The Matron answered, standing behind Pelli and Roku, a hand on a shoulder of each one.

"Oh, dear..." the Head Matron looked up from her screen for the first time; looking at Roku over the top of her eye glasses. "Just now?" she asked the Matron.

"Yes, in my classroom," the Matron seethed.

"Roku, isn't it?" the Head Matron asked, putting the tablet down.

"Yes, ma'am," Roku answered, keeping her eyes lowered.

"And this girl," the Head Matron turned her head to examine Pelli, "I don't know you..."

"Pelli, ma'am," answered Pelli through intermittent sobs.

"Yes, I don't know you..." the Head Matron repeated. "You, Roku... We'll start with you," she said, standing. She opened a drawer in her desk and rummaged around for something. Great, my lashes, Roku thought.

The Matron behind Roku grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up out of the chair. Roku didn't resist, she leaned forward, putting her elbows on the desk, and presenting her posterior for punishment. The Matron pulled up the short skirt and slapped a buttock with her palm. The Head Matron was circling around the desk. 

"There were are," she said, but no strap landed. Instead, there was a small sting to her left buttock. A lash she could have taken, but this... Roku pushed up off the desk and spun to face the Head Matron. In an instant, Roku's worst fears were confirmed. The Head Matron had not been searching around in her desk for a strap, no, she'd take a hypodermic out of the drawer. She stood there holding the needle up, examining it. It was empty.

Roku attempted to step forward; wrap her hands around the neck of the Head Matron and throttle her; but whatever she'd been injected with began to take effect. Roku's legs buckled under her, and if a Matron hadn't caught her, she'd have collapsed to the floor. 

The Matron dropped Roku heavily into a chair. Roku's body was rapidly going numb. From head to toe, all the feeling was draining out of her. The Matron let go of Roku and she began to slouch sideways, falling out of the chair. Again, she picked up Roku and set her down, balancing her on the chair so Roku would stay limply positioned in her seat.

Pelli sat rooted to her chair. She'd stopped crying and could do nothing but look on in horror.

"This is the one the Commissar wanted?" the Matron asked the Head Matron, looking into Roku's sleepy eyes. Roku's head was getting fuzzy, it sounded like they were a long way off, talking in a tunnel.

"Yes. Roku," the Head Matron confirmed.

"And the other one?" the Matron indicated Pelli.

"She'll have to stay here," the Head Matron said, she was circling back around her desk, dropping the hypodermic back in the drawer.

"You mean return her to class?" the Matron asked in surprise.

"Oh no, she'll have to stay with us – with the Order of Matrons..." the Head Matron replied. Roku's vision was beginning to blur, she could only half make out the moving figures. "She'll be our newest novice..." the Head Matron continued. 

The other Matron let out low cackle. 

"She'll we begin initiating here now?" The Head Matron said and joined the cackling.

Roku was loosing consciousness. She was just aware of the Matron grabbing Pelli by the hair and throwing her forward across the Head Matron's desk. Then hands were tearing at Pelli's clothes – dozens it seemed, hundreds. Hands, forcefully gabbing at Pelli's small breasts, pulling her legs apart, fingering...

Roku's ears filled with nothing but the long, sustained, piecing sound of Pelli's pained scream. Then the world went black.



Hatchette Ch. 17-21



**The conclusion of the story. Nothing else particularly erotic in these chapters. Here for completeness, only.**



17. Shibari

Roku awoke upside down, the blood rushing to her head. Her arms were somehow restrained behind her and there was an agonizing ache in her shoulders. Roku tried desperately to get a sense of which way was up, but wherever she was, it was pitch black. She tried to move her legs, lift her hips, but they seemed to be as equity immobile as Roku's arms. Perhaps it was still the drugs – whatever the Head Matron had injected Roku with. Oh, by the Holy Matron, Pelli! Roku's body spasmed in panic. No, she had full use of her body again, should could move her hands, she was somehow tied down. Hogtied. As her eyes began to adjust the the darkness around her and she started to make out the stone walls that were the confines of the room. Then she began to realize how wrong she was...

...She wasn't tied down, she was tied up.

She was suspended in the air, facing the floor, her arms behind her, with her weight held up by them. If she hadn't been a Hatchette, if her muscles weren't artificially enhanced, the load would have been excruciating. As it was, it still was no picnic. Roku moved her head to examine the ropes that crisscrossed her body – an intricate pattern of laced white cord, stretching all the way down to her feet.  She was still wearing her knee-high socks and her small, schoolgirl skirt, but her shirt was gone. The ropes wrapped around her breasts, squeezing them into upright, uncomfortable knots. She was aware of a ball gag in her mouth. She bit down on it, sinking her metal-cored teeth into the rubber. She tried to lift herself solely by her shoulders – to level herself.

Even for a girl of Roku's strength, that was going to happen.

Roku collapsed forward, letting out a soft grunt. It was then that Roku became aware of the presence in the room. She turned her head and vaguely identified a dark figure sitting off some distance.

A light flicked on.

A single exposed florescent bulb sitting on a small wooden table. In the chair next to it sat the Ober Guard Commander Roku had first met back in the Sento Room. Anders, Roku remember Lady Le-En saying her name was. The woman so quick with the truncheon.  

She was dressed in her leather uniform, with the leather great coat, and the mirrored shades still on, despite the darkness. The light illuminated the bleakness of the room around them. A dungeon – there was no other word for it. Stone, masoned walls; stone, masoned floors; and a large steel, angry looking door locking Roku and the Guard Commander in the room together. Anders sat crossed-legged in her chair, Roku suspended, almost naked, from the ceiling.

Without a word, Anders rose to her feet. She slide the leather great coat off her shoulders and draped it over the back of the chair. A weapons belt, with a holder for a burner, she removed and placed by the lamp on the table. The leather top to her uniform she unzipped and pulled off. Underneath she wore a sleeveless white shirt that showed the bulge of her muscles. She dropped the jacket on the seat and stepped towards Roku. She flexed her fingers and made them crack at the knuckles.

She punched Roku powerfully in the side of the face. 

This sent Roku spinning on her axis, away from Anders. Anders placed a hand on the ropes and pulled Roku back into position. A second blow came down on the bridge of Roku's nose and the room echoed with the crack of the bone. A steam of blood gushed out over the ball gag and slopped onto the floor.

Anders swung a third punch, but it was a mostly timid one, to the right eye socket, but enough to swell the eye shut. The pugilism seemed to suddenly bore Anders and she stepped away, walking in her jackboots across the stones to a rack of implements that had, until that moment, escaped Roku's attention. Anders chose a cat o nine tails off the rack, and felt its weight in her hand. 

From bad to worse, Roku thought as Anders stepped back across the cell. Anders vanished back out of Roku's sighed and Roku could feel the back of her skirt come up away from her buttocks. There was a crack of a whip and the cat o nine tails came down across Roku's ass. Roku's body shook with the might of the blow. Again the flailed whip came down and Roku twisted her head the best she could to see. All she could catch a glimpse of was Anders' boots. And the whip came down again. 

Anders' feet shuffled impatiently. Obviously, Roku was meant to be screaming in pain. The lashings hurt, assuredly, but Roku had been conditioned to block out such impulses. Roku hated to think what a bloody mess her backside was being turned into, but she could take the lashing as long as Anders had the strength to hand them out. Anders stepped forward and whipped the cat o nine tails up against Roku's dangling breasts. Again, Roku's body spasmed from the blow, but she did not yell out.

Anders muttered someunintelligible curses under her breath. Frustrated, she turned the whip around in her hand. A free hand grabbed at Roku's helpless, tortured ass and pulled apart her ass checks. Roku couldn't see but there was a sudden, violent pressure against her anus. Anders was going to sodomize her with the thick hilt of the whip's handle...

Then there was the sound of grinding in the lock of the large steel door. Roku was facing the wrong way, but if she lowered her head she could just make out the door's base. It creaked open like a steel trap, and feet entered. More jackboots and a pair of high heeled, mustered colored pumps with diamond encrusted T-Straps.

"That will do," a voice said with command, "for now."

Lady Aru! Irrationally and only for a split second, Roku's heart jumped. She almost let herself believe that Lady Aru was there to save her. But then Roku remembered what had happened at St. Juliet's and what the Matron's had said when they'd thought she was unconscious...

The pressure against Roku's asshole vanished and Anders tossed the whips aside onto the table with the single bulb. An Ober Guard came around into Roku's field of vision and cleared Anders clothes off the chair. The Guard picked up the chair and placed it squarely in front of Roku's dangling face. Lady Aru then appeared, dressed in an a strapless, flowing, mustered colored chiffon gown. She paused at the pool of blood Roku's broken nose had produced, tentatively stepping around it, to place herself in the chair.

"Hatchette," she said when she'd made herself comfortable. Roku didn't know if it was a question or a statement. Roku's teeth were still biting into a centimeter of rubber ball gag. She just stared at Lady Aru. "The Hatchette Project," Lady Aru continued, "twelve genetically enhanced professional assassins. All chosen from a stock of girls aged twelve to fifteen, the project being five years old, making the oldest Hatchette potentially no older than twenty..." 

She paused. Blood was dripping down from Roku's nose and out around the ball gag. Lady Aru was looking on in horror. She made a motion with a hand to a Guard, and a hand was unbuckling the gag behind Roku's head. It came free with a torrent of blood and saliva that Roku spit on the floor. Lady Aru's feet jumped back, tucking up against herself, trying to keep of shoes clean.

"Where's Pelli?" Roku asked though bloody teeth – coughing and spitting.

Lady Aru continued, "Twelve assassins, now aged seventeen to twenty, placed close to prominent Commissariat dignitaries, ready to be activated upon the death of the First Commissar..."

"Fuck you!" Roku spat, "Hatchettes hunt and kill Dicks, we're not assassins..."

"Yes," Lady Aru stood up and pushed her chair a little back, letting herself sit alittle more comfortably out of the range of Roku's fluids. "I understand that's what you were all told. Perhaps even those who told you it believed it – I just became aware of this all yesterday, you understand... I don't yet have all the details... Before, I didn't have clearance, you see... 

"To clear the budget," Lady Aru went on, "To explain your existence to the Commissariat at large – the Hatchettes were presented as an elite Anti-terrorist unit. Sleeper agents to hunt down and destroy all those sleeper cells of transsexual men that were setting off bombs all over the planet..." Lady Aru snorted, "but all of that was just a ruse... That the Hatchettes themselves didn't know the truth, I'm not at all surprised. We maintain the fiction of Dick Terrorism well into highest echelons of the Commissariat. I can't accuse anyone of being hopelessly naive... You were lied to, Roku, that can hardly be considered your fault...

"But it is all a lie, my sweet little Roku..." Lady Aru was speaking with what sounded like genuine affection. Roku could do nothing but hang there and listen. "A very damaging lie that you so seriously believed... No one actually expected to to find any men, Roku, no less find a whole harem and exterminate them. But that's what you did, wasn't it Roku? Sweet, sweet Roku... It was you that murdered everyone in Moll Flanders, was it not?"

"Yes," Roku said, not understanding, "They were Dicks. Terrorists. It was my duty to destroy them..."

"I believe you Roku," Lady Aru continued, "That you genuinely believe that to be your duty, I mean... But it's not true. It's all a lie, Roku, you have to understand that... There are no Dick Terrorists..."

Roku shook her head, "Fuck you!" Roku's neck was getting tired. She let it loll forward.

"Roku," Lady Aru said calmly, then commanded, "Roku! Look at me!"

Roku raised her head. Slowly, wearily. 

"There are no Dick Terrorists because there are no Dicks anymore." Aru said slowly, like she was talking to a child. "We killed them all – all the men – in the war."

"No, no..." Roku shook her head. "On the earth, perhaps, but on other planets – asteroid bases – they've survived..."

"Like in the vidcasts?" Lady Aru smiled, but her eyes still looked at Roku sadly, "That's all that is, Roku, the stuff of Saturday afternoon vidcasts... A fiction... But a convenient fiction. That the Great Society has enemies – that its constantly under attack – that the Commissariat is the bulwark between civilization and male aggression... It made the populus more plyable – more willing to accept the necessary austerity measures, with the shift to a command economy... But it's only a lie, Roku. There's no more colonies on the outer planets or asteroids. Not since the Dick and Jane War. All those colonies required water from earth to sustain themselves and no tanker rockets have left earth for two hundred years. There all dead, Roku, all of them... Every last motherfucking male..."

But... Moll Flanders... The Nanpa Girls..." Roku protested, panicked, terrified by what she was hearing.

"Those weren't men..." Lady Aru leaned back in her chair, resting a bare arm over the back. "Not really. That's the other great secret, Roku, that the Commissariat tells no one: The ex-utero banks are insufficient to sustain the Earth's population."

"I-I-" Roku's head was spinning, "I don't understand..."

"When ex-utero fertilization was perfected, women felt that they had finally freed themselves from the bonds of male domination. It was one of the seminal events of the Great Society. With the three million standardized templates, we were ready for the future. With so much genetic material, there'd be no more need for sexual reproduction... But after the war, the Commissariat began to realize that they'd made a mistake...

"We're clones, Roku. Basically. You and I. And every new life that's born in the ex-utero bank is a clone. Sometimes a clone of a clone. And that's where the system begins to break down. There's a degenerative effect – cloning an clone. Nothing showed up for the first few generations, but it quickly became apparent that the stock of genetic material we had would be insufficient to sustain the female population indefinitely. We'd need infuse the templates with new genetic sources... That was the biological problem the scientist could never solve: the creation of life. We could stop life in its earliest stages, clone it, direct it, produce the product were most desired, but we'd never learned how to create life outside of sexual reproduction. For that, womankind would need men.

"But we'd worked so hard to irradiate that disease... Did we want to go back to the bad old daysunder male oppression? No, we had all fought to hard and for to long for out liberation to let that happen. We couldn't let all we'd worked for be destroyed by an accident of biological function... 

"So, we recreated male species... It's a easy enough trick to control the final sex of a fetus in the early stages – we do it all the time to assure a female. So why not create a man? But not totally a man... A source of sperm, yes, but with all the aggression and violence bread out of it. Made them more like women, civilized... And our scientist stumbled upon the Z chromosome... The shemale... And that's who you've been hunting, Roku, not Dicks. The men that the ex-utero banks spawned, as a source of genetic material, not terrorist from out some outer space male empire... 

"I have to say they're a headstrong lot, still more man than women. We're still working on it – it's a work in progress... And if the general public ever found out, there'd be a panic... So, the Commissariat keeps them in harems, away from good, honest women... But there's some mixing, for those in the know... As you discovered..."

"Why are you bothering to lie to me?" Roku asked, swinging gently in her ropes. "Why not just kill me?"

"I want you to understand now what you would have known back then. What you would have known if the purpose of the Hatchettes had actually been to hunt and kill males. I think I owe you that. But that was never your purpose, Roku. You were created as a highly trained, weapon of political assassination. Twelve assassins for twelve High Commissariat Officials and Ministers. And you were my assassin, Roku, assigned to murder me."

Roku looked up into the eyes of Lady Aru. The sincerity there told Roku she believe what she was saying... But Roku couldn't... She could have never killed Lady Aru, even if she'd been ordered to. Lady Aru must understand that.

"It was a power play, by the First Commissar herself!" Lady Aru said with disgust. "To assure succession – to make sure the people she favored acquired power after her death and continued her programs and policies. It seems that the First Commissar – the Holy Matron protect her soul – felt that I was unfit for office... I was on her list of those Commissars who, upon her death, were to be quietly disposed of," Lady Aru spit the words out. "Of the twelve Hatchettes, eleven were activated. Seven succeeded in their mission. Four were killed attempting to eliminate their target. That just leaves you, Roku. Why you weren't activated, I don't entirely understand, but thank the Holy Matron that you weren't. It's been a hairy twenty four hours, and the last thing I'd have needed was you trying to kill me. But I've succeed in the attempt to ascend to my rightful place as First Commissar of the Great Society of Earth... " Lady Aru paused for affect. "Feel free to congratulate me..."

Roku remembered the visit she'd received, yesterday, from Lt. Zee – that look of terror in her eyes. She must have come to give Roku her orders. But her nerve had failed her... Instead of sending Roku off to her death, she fucked Roku instead... Now Roku was captured and Lady Aru was First Commissar... 

Roku's shoulders ached.

Lady Aru climbed to her feet and brushed off her mustard, chiffon gown. She stepped gingerly around the blood pool underneath Roku and took a few steps for the door.

"I'm so sorry for this, Roku," she said, pausing, "If there was any way things could have turned out different..." She held out a hand and touched Roku's bruised, bloodied cheek.

"But First Commissars have an image to maintain..." Roku said snidely, trying to pull her cheek away from Lady Aru's touch. 

"Always young, always infallible," Lady Aru shrugged, "if it ever got out that an assassin had gotten so close..." The soft touch of Lady Aru's hand spoke simultaneously of true affection and total, cold sadism. Lady Aru pulled back her hand and started quickly for the door.

"What about Pelli?" Roku ask after, yelling at the wall.

"The girl?" Lady Aru paused again. "The Matron's will keep her, make them one of their own. It's a harsh initiation of sexual humiliation and physically torture that the Matron's subject acolytes to... It's true what everyone says, they're all totally insane... But your friend won't be a danger to me, not once the Matron's are through with her."

Again, Roku's body spasmed with anger. If she could just get free... She could heer the door closing behind her and she knew that Lady Aru was gone. The jackboots on the floor told her that Anders was still in the room; ready for fun and games to begin again...



18. Anders

Anders picked the cat o nine tails up of the table and came around to the front of Roku. She held the flails in one hand and the hilt of the whip in the other. It was like she was weighting it, deciding which end to strike Roku with. Eventually she decided, lowering the whip to her side and striking Roku in the face with a balled fist.

The blow sent Roku rocking. With all her might Roku strained again with her shoulders, this time not against the ropes, but with them – forcing her arms in, back farther behind her back. The ropes slackened, if she could only apply enough force...

The sound of popping, ripping tendons filled the room. Anders stepped back from Roku, unsure of what had just happened. Roku had simultaneously dislocated both of her shoulders. The ropes hung loose around her arms. With a couple of excruciating shrugs, a loop of the rope fell away from her hands. This now gave her plenty of slack. she bent at the hips and shifted her weight back. With all her strength she shrugged her shoulders forward and they snapped loudly back into their sockets. 

Anders had been watching, horrified, stupefied by what she saw. But she didn't pause long. All at one, she realized what Roku had accompanied. Her arms were almost free. Anders jump forward and struck Roku hard against the left ear. This sent Roku spinning wildly, bringing her bound legs around, smashing into Anders. Roku was working fast. Anders pushed hard on Roku's feet, to bring her head back around; but by the time Roku was facing back towards Anders, her arms were free of the ropes. 

With the momentum of the swing, and all the strength in Roku's arm, she slammed her fist in to Anders stomach. Anders let out a low grunt and stagged back a couple paces. Remembering the cat o nine tails still in her left hand, Anders whipped out with it, trying to catch Roku in the face. But Roku was away, spinning with the reaction of her punch. The flails of the whip snapped again Roku's side, tangling up in the vertical ropes. Not seriously, but it was enough that Roku could grab at the tails of the whip and hang on. Anders kept hold of the handle and Roku pulled her off balance. They were both suddenly grappling for the whip, Anders hanging from the still suspended Roku – spinning together around and around. Fists flew and teeth bit as they wrestled over cat o nine tails. Roku had Anders hanger under her, she reached back and coiled up a length of free rope. Before Anders could react, Roku had the rope around Anders' neck and began pulling. Suddenly, Anders had forgotten about the whip and her fingers shot to her throat.

Anders' feet dropped to the floor and she pushed herself up to a vertical, picking Roku up on her back. Roku was steadily increasing the pressure on the loop of cord she had around Anders neck. Anders' fingers dug desperately at the garrote. Roku was still bond for her toes to her tits, but she hung on tight. A few more second and...




Hatchette Ch. 17-21



One of Anders' hands came away from her neck. She'd seen something and she started to reach for it. Right away, Roku eyes landed on the burner still in its holder on the small wooden table where Anders had put it down. Anders began to walk with Roku on her back, reaching out for the handgun; but ten centimeters short of the goal, the ropes holding Roku to the ceiling pulled tight. Roku was lifted off Abders' back, the loop still around Anders' throat. 

But Anders kept reaching, narrowing the distance. Roku kept a tight grip on the rope around Anders' neck. They were both straining, Anders' fingers inching towards the gun. Roku pulled back harder, Anders reached out farther towards the table...

And suddenly Roku relaxed her grip. Anders fell forward, scrambling for the gun. She came up with it and pointed it blinding behind her. But Roku hadn't relaxed her grip for no reason. With the slack she'd gained she shifted her weight and brought her bound feet down and around under her. Roku crouched down pointing her toes at the hump of Anders' back and pulled back again hard on the cord around Anders' neck. This time, with the leverage of her feet planted firmly on Anders' back, Roku picked Anders up bodily off the floor. The burner was still pointing wildly, and a shot fired though the meat of Roku's thigh; but Roku pulled back with all the might her Hatchette conditioning gave her. The sound of snapping vertebra filled the stone dungeon. Anders feet thrashed frantically, trying to find the floor. 

Then Anders let out the slightest hint of a grunt and went limp, her arms falling down to her sides, the burner clattering to the floor. She tumbled forward and Roku came down after her; the shot that had dealt Roku's thigh a glancing burn had cut through the last of the ropes holding Roku suspended. 

Roku climbed to her feet, shaking of the cord still wrapped around her, and looked at the wound to her leg. The burn was blistering and blood was running down her leg, but it wasn't too bad. The bolt had obviously not de-encapsulated, exploding instead on the stone ceiling above her. Roku looked down at Anders' body, the rope still tight around her neck. Her tongue jutted oddly out the side of her mouth and one arm was twisted strangely underneath her, but those mirrored sunglasses still sat undisturbed on her face. Even in death, Roku couldn't see her eyes. 

Roku leaned down and scooped up the burner, turning to cover the steel door. She waited an impatient second for someone to have heard the shot – a guard to come storming into the room, but there was nothing. Roku looked around. Crumpled in a corner she caught sight of her shirt and she limped over and scooped it up; but she didn't put it on; she tore off long strips and bandaged the burn on her leg. Satisfied with the field dressing, she hobbled back to the small table, and picked up Anders leather great coat. She pulled it over he shoulders and buttoned a single large button to hide her bare breasts. 

She started limping toward the large steel door, but stopped as an idea came to her. She reached down and pulled the sunglasses off of Anders dead face. She put them on and walked up to the steel door, keeping her face close it it. The door had a hatch, at about eye level, so the guard outside could see into the cell. Roku rapped the butt of the burner against the door.

The hatch slid open. Roku's eyes, wearing the sunglasses were no more than an inch from it.

"Open the door," Roku said in a low voice. 

The hatch slammed shut and their was a jiggling of keys. The locked turned and the door began to open with the same steel trap creek. Roku didn't wait for the door to completely open, she leaned on her bad leg and give the door a kick with a good one. There was thud as the door swung on its hinges and Roku jumped through, the burner ready in her hand.

An Ober Guard had been knocked across the corridor by the force of the door. She was stunned, but not down. Roku fired a single shot from her burner and caught the guard in the chest. She collapsed back with a smoking hole where the bolt had hit her. The guard's auto-burner was resting uselessly up against a chair beside the door. Roku scooped this up as she passed and tried to run. That was a mistake, her bad leg almost buckled under her. Instead, she trotted off at a jog.



19. The Axe

Roku met no more resistance as she climbed out of the dungeon. She emerged up a backstair into the kitchens of the Ober Manor. This was a surprise to Roku. She hadn't any idea where she was – where she'd thought she come out to, but the Ober Manor was one of the last places she would have expected. 

She paused at the top of the backstair to tuck her handgun into the pocket of the great coat. She slung the auto-burner over her back by its strap, and buttoned up a few more button on the coat. She'd pass as a Guard, she though, and stepped out into the kitchen. No maids or cooks even gave her a second glance. She was quickly out of the servant's entrance and outside the Manor. It was dark – late, Roku could tell by the stars. She must have been unconscious half a day.

She pointed her nose towards the school campus, not bothering with the roads, cutting a path straight across the open ground – across the open ground she run over many times for calisthenics. She wished she could run now, Pelli would still be at the school and Pelli was in danger. Roku's own stupidity had gotten Pelli into all of this, and Roku planned to get her quickly out of it. Roku's own stupidity... There was no other way to say it.

Lady Aru's speech, down there in the dungeon, rattled around in Roku's head. It was all impossible to believe, but Roku was beginning to comprehend it – as it began to sort itself out in her head, things began to fall into place: Roku's odd orders to spy on the Obers; the conversation with Tro; Lady Le-En's almost banal dismissal of the presence of Dicks; Lt Zee's odd behavior. But none of it mattered to Roku – if all of her life turned out to be a lie, she didn't care. All that matter right then was rescuing Pelli from the lascivious hands of the Order of Matrons. After that, Roku would have time to think. Let it percolate for awhile. Maybe then she could make some sense out of it all...

Roku passed the oak tree that marked the border between the Ober Estates and the school campus. She doubled her pace, but still couldn't manage a real sprint. The auto-burner slapped carelessly against her back; she was still wearing the mirrored shades, despite the darkness. Now Roku understood why the Ober Guards never took the things off, they allowed the wearer to see into the infrared range. From behind the glasses, the dark sports fields of St. Juliet's seemed lit by the noonday sun. Roku could see the school itself in the distance. She was less than ten minutes away.

Roku was going to burn the school to the ground...

Roku was shocked by the contradictions inside herself. She hated the Matrons so hotly, yet she couldn't even muster a passing apathy for Lady Aru and the Obers. Lady Aru, who and had left Roku in the hands of that sadist, Anders... Lady Aru, who would have had Roku tortured and killed to protect little more than her own personal reputation... And what crimes could Roku accuse the Matrons of? Following orders from the Commissariat? Being the sick, twisted hypocritical perverts that everyone understood them for? It didn't matter, Roku had more than enough rage inside to spread around for everyone. Pelli was what was important right then – Roku need to climb one mountain at a time. There'd be time later for the Obers... Time later for Lady Aru.

Roku came upon St. Juliet's by the gym door. The corridors of the school were dark and quiet as Roku stepped inside. Her heels clicked on the stone floors as she made her way by a back corridor to a small room that was always kept locked. Roku had never been inside, but she knew from the school plans that it was the fire suppression control room. She kicked the wood paneled door hard with her good leg and sent it splintering open.

The room was little more than a closet, with a panel of flashing lights up against the far wall. Fire suits, portable fire extinguishers and axes were stored off to the right. Roku quickly studied the panel. Trigger the fire alarm would be easy enough, but the alarm had a habit of going off twice a month and no one ever bothered to evacuate when they heard the siren, especially in the middle of the night. No, Roku would need something a little more persuasive if she was going to rouse the whole school. She found the controls for the halon fire suppressors... That'd get everyone's attention... Roku activated all zones and triggered the system. Instantly the fire klaxon started sounding and the streams of fire suppressant gas started pumping into the halls. 

Roku turned and left the fire control room, reaching over and pulling a fire axe off its hook as she did. She was making her way to the Grand Hall. Already, girls were pilling down the main stairs, dressed in pajamas, coughing from the Bromotrifluoromethane gas. Roku took the corridor that lead towards the school's cloister, off of which was the Head Matron's office. 

The fire alarms buzzed loudly in Roku's ears as she walked, axe in hand. A group of girls ran past Roku, shooting her panicked glances. She must have made quite a sight: Still dressed in her short plaid skirt, heels and knee-high socks – the right now soaked in blood; Anders long, leather great coat buttoned across her breasts; the mirrored shades; the rest of her face beaten to a pulp; the assault rifle slung across her back and heavy, red axe in her hand. She felt like an avenging angel – she hoped she looked like one. She looked like hell, at least... Hell would be enough.

Roku turned off the cloister down the hall to the administrative offices. The halon was thick here and Roku switched over to her internal oxygen. Roku could see a light form under the door to the Head Matron's office. She turned the handle of the door and swung it open. 

The Head Matron was standing at her desk, in a night gown, talking into a phone – yelling. She didn't look up when the door opened, intent on tell whoever was on the other end of the line that there was no fire, that the fire suppression system was malfunctioning, and that she had a school full of young girls standing out in the cold. Roku let the door swing closed behind her. She stood in the center of the room – stood there and waited, on the spot where she had waited so many times; waiting for the Head Matron to acknowledge her presence; waiting for the Matron to hand down some punishment. Roku could wait there as long as she had, there was no rush. Punishment would come.

"I said I don't need fire engines I need an engineer to turn off the fucking-" the Head Matron's eyes met Roku's shoes. Her gaze traced up, over Roku's bloodied sock, past her skirt and the axe, over the coat to Roku's calm, beaten face. 

"Where's Pelli?" Roku asked, not making a move. 

The phone receiver came slowly away from the Head Matron's ear. She was looking at Roku in shock. The high pitched chatter of a voice on the other end of the phone could still be heard talking. 

"Roku, I-" the Head Matron started.

"Where's Pelli?" Roku interrupted forcefully.

The Head Matron stood there staring at Roku, her mouth slightly open, the phone receiver still in her had. Then, almost imperceptibly, her eyes glanced towards the bookcase to the right of Roku. Roku turned to look. Through her sunglasses she could just see the slight heat differential between the center bookcase and the ones on either side. There was a hidden door. 

The Head Matron took that moment to make her move. She dropped the phone and came sprinting around the desk. She'd have to get by Roku to get out of the door; but for her age, she was still light on her feet. Roku didn't hesitate, she brought up the axe; and as the Matron came sprinting around the desk, Roku brought the axe down. Putting all her weight into the swing, Roku caught the Head Matron between her left shoulder and her neck. 

The axe didn't stop until it'd cut the heart in two.

Roku didn't have the time or inclination to search for whatever control open the secret panel. She brought her bloodied axe up and hacked a quick hole in the back of the bookcase. Through this she reached and found a level that swung the bookcase into the room. Beyond was a dark spiral staircase, heading down.

My, the Great Society have a lot of need for dungeons, Roku thought to herself as she descended the stairs. Like the Ober Manor, Roku had found St. Juliet's secret dungeon. At the bottom of the steps corridors branched off back into the foundations of the school. A short corridor was directly in front of Roku, with two doors on either side and a single door at the far end. There was a faint light through a small barred window in that single door. 

It was eerily quiet down there – the ceiling above too thick to hear the fire klaxon. Roku could make out the sound of soft muffles and groans from the end of the hall. She moved as quietly as she could up to the far door and looked in through the bars. 

The room was a pleasure palace similar to the one Roku had woken up in. No ropes from the ceiling here, though. A large wooden vertical X of a rack dominated the room. Pelli was strapped to this, naked except for a dog collar and a gag. The Matron – Roku's Social Science instructor – stood inches behind her. She was thrusting up into Pelli rhythmically with her hips, whispering into Pelli's ear as she did so. Pelli's head was hanging forward out of sight, but her back showed fresh marks from a lash.

Roku pulled the door open and was in the room in one smooth motion. The Matron turned her head idly, then did a double take at Roku. She just had time to step back away from Pelli, pulling out the twelve inch dildo she had strapped to her groin, before Roku was on her. The axe came around, there was a muffled cry, and the Matron's head came off her shoulders. 

Pelli fought against her bonds, trying to pull herself free. She craned her head around trying to see what was happening. Roku came up behind her and unbuckled the gag from behind her head.

"Roku!" Pelli screamed the second the gag was out of her mouth. "The Matron..."

"She's dead," Roku replied, dropping the axe and starting on the shackles on Pelli's wrists. Pelli twisted to look at the Matron's beheaded corpse. "Don't look," Roku commanded, pushing her head around.

"You killed her?" Pelli asked with a wrist free, working on her other arm.

"I'm going to kill them all," Roku said without emotion. She bent down and started on the shackles on Pelli's ankles.

"I-I-I don't understand..." Pelli said as she stepped down off the rack. Roku looked around but couldn't find anything like clothing for Pelli. She bent over the body of the Matron and took a handful of her long, black gown. Tearing it free, she wrapped the length of fabric around Pelli. 

"There's nothing to understand," Roku said, putting her arms around Pelli. "None of this had anything to do with you. They wanted me, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"They wouldn't stop..." Pelli began, the tears welling up now. "They kept... They took turns – shifts..."

"Come on," Roku began to lead Pelli out of the cell.

Back up in Head Matron's office, the sight of the Head Matron's cleavered body made Pelli scream. Out in the hall, the fire sirens were still sounding, but the halon was beginning to disperse. Roku and Pelli were starting towards the cloister when a Matron came around the curve. She noticed Rolu and Pelli, reacted to the sight the two made, then turned on her heels. Roku was quickly, pulling the burner out of the pocket of the great coat, and she hit the Matron in the back with a plasma bolt. Pelli screamed and the Matron fell forward, sliding on her face a meter across the stone of the cloister. She didn't move again.

Roku took Pelli by the hand and started walking again.

"No!" Pelli said, pulling her hand out of Roku's grip. 

"It's okay, she's dead," Roku said, holding her hand out.

"No!" Pelli said again, looking at Roku in terror. "Who are you?" she asked, terrified.

"Pelli," Roku said impatiently, "it's me, Roku..."

"No..." Pelli shook her head, she couldn't believe it.

Roku took of the mirrored shades and threw them aside, "Pelli, come on, we don't have a lot of time." She grabbed at Pelli's wrist. Pelli struggled.

"Ow, you're hurting me!" Pelli cried, trying to pull her wrist free.

Roku let go of her wrist, letting out heavy sigh.

"Okay, you want to know who I am? You what to know what's going on? I'll tell you," Roku started impatiently, "I'm Roku, but I'm a Hachette. A professional assassin, tasked with the murder of Lady Aru. But I failed in that mission and now, Lady Aru is First Commissar of the Planet Earth and she wants me dead; all the Hatchettes dead, anyone who had any connection to any Hatchette – dead. That's you. There's not much time before they realize what's happened, that I've escaped from their torture chamber and that you have too. But when the do, they'll come after us with all they've got. We need to be a thousand – a million miles away from anywhere like here in the next few hours or we're dead. Do you understand? People will be coming to kill us. You have to come with me. On our own you won't last a day, but together..."

Roku paused. Pelli had stopped crying. The speech was working, but Roku began to hear the sound of something flying above them. Thruster jets. Roku stepped out into the open air of the cloister and looked up. Sure enough, VTOL's were approaching, circling and descending.

"Who are they?" Pelli asked, looking up into the air beside Roku.

"It's already to late..." Roku said soberly.



20. Hatchette

Seven VTOLs. Roku could count seven. How many Hatchettes did Lady Aru say were left alive? Seven? Eight, counting Roku. Yeah, the symmetry of it all made sense. It was just like Lady Aru...

Roku lead Pelli by the hand though the dark corridors of the school to the Grand Hall. There were still schoolgirls in pajamas milling around out in front of the hall, and firefighters and their trucks. Roku kissed Pelli quickly and told her to leave with the others. Pelli didn't argue, she trotted out of the Grand Hall and was met by paramedics. They'd be evacuating all the girls now, with the school full of halon gas. The buses must be being organized. Pelli would be safe in the crowd, wherever they took them for the rest of the night. Roku wouldn't have to worry about her.

Roku could start worrying about her self.

Through the door, Roku could see the VTOL's setting down in the sports fields. They landed momentarily, a small black figure disembarking and the VTOL's were in the air again. Standard operating procedure. Roku had done the touchdown drill a thousand times. Seven Hatchettes against Roku... Not Ober guards, not Dick Terrorists, but Hatchettes – just like Roku... And Roku was tired and wounded and the other girls would be fresh. Yeah, the whole situation had Lady Aru written all over it. She was not the sort for half measures. Roku took the auto-burner off her back and checked its plasma bottle. It was full. 

Roku only advantage was that she knew who she was fighting – knew them better than they knew themselves. It was possible – probable – that the other Hatchettes were unaware that Roku was their intended target. Would their handlers have been able to convince them to come here if they knew? Roku doubted it. The Hatchettes, during training, had been close. To attack one of their own? But who knows what lies they'd been told... If the other Hatchettes still believed in the existence of the Dick threat... Roku could be a collaborator... Yeah, they'd come here and kill Roku if they believed that. Roku would have. It wasn't going to be any use discussing the situation, Roku was going to have to fight for her life. Maybe her one advantage wasn't really an advantage after all...




Hatchette Ch. 17-21



Roku took the stairs up to the gallery and crouched there. How will they attack? She asked herself. How would Roku attack? Roku did have the home-field advantage, this was her school. Not through the front door, guns blazing, Roku could assume; but perhaps through open windows or across the roof. It was going to be an up close and personal fight, that was the only certainty. Roku should have kept a hold of that axe.

Roku moved slowly into the dormitories, keeping her eyes open, the auto-burner swinging in slow arch in front of her. She was halfway through the second year dormitory when the fire klaxon cut out and the emergency lights went off. Timer? Could be, or the fire department. Roku couldn't be assured that she and the Hatchettes were alone in St. Juliet's, she'd have to check her targets. It'd be horrible for a firefighter or a stray schoolgirl to get burned.

Roku was passing the senior lounge when a vidscreen turned itself on. Roku spun on her heels and covered it with the auto-burner. There was nothing on the screen but static, but there was audio.

"Roku..." a tiny voice said over the interference. "Roku, if you can hear me, you should put your weapons down and surrender." Roku could just recognize the voice as Lt. Zee's. "There's no way out of the building, Roku. If the Hatchettes have to come in... Well, it'd be best for everyone if you surrendered, Roku. Come out the front doors with your hands above your head... Roku..." 

It was a recording, it began to cycle again. It wasn't Lt. Zee, it was a computer aggregation. Lt. Zee would be dead by now, Roku realized. It was her who failed to activate Roku. While this might have save Lady Aru's life, it was still an act of insubordination. The First Commissar couldn't let Lt. Zee live any more than she could let Roku. Once subordinates began to question their orders...

Roku was downstairs again, moving silently through the Dining Hall, when she heard a crash far off, somewhere above. It sounded like breaking glass. Sloppy, Roku scolded in her head whoever was making the racket. The far end of the Dining Hall faced out onto the cloister, a set of double doors opening onto it, half closed. The cloister was the center of the school, with the most tangents of attack, but also the most route of escape. It was both the smartest and stupidest place to hold up and wait for the Hatchettes – almost exactly the opposite of what her training had told her. That was how Roku needed to think, exactly the opposite as the training. The other Hatchettes had had the same training as her, they'd be thinking like her. Roku had to stop thinking like Roku – think like someone else. Only that would come as a surprise to the Hatchettes.

She paused in the shadow cast by the double doors and looked out silently into the cloister. The covered walkways where cloaked in darkness, but the open air courtyard was illuminated by the moonlit night. It was all ambush potentials and half obstructed firing angles – Roku's battle computer was going haywire. She subconsciously sent it the command to itself down. If her battle computer was useless in place like that, then so would the other Hatchettes'. Roku smiled.

She kicked off her heels and stepped in her socks, as quietly as possible out into the cloister. She pressed herself up against a column, hidden in the shadows, and waited, watching. There was little to see but shadows. Damn, why had she taken of Anders' sunglasses? Oh yes, now Roku remembered. It sure would have been helpful to be able to see into the infrared range...

Something moved on the far side of the cloister.

Roku held her breath, not daring to make even the slightest sound. The Hatchettes would have broken into three groups of two, Roku predicted, and divided the search duties. The only question was, would they have kept the extra seventh girl to make a team of three, or let her wander off alone. Roku thought about the different personalities she had gotten to know back in Hatchette training. Unfortunately, she was unaware of precisely which seven Hatchettes had survived... Roku lacked sufficient evidence to make a prediction, but there seems to be only a single pair of feet moving almost silently across the far side of the cloister. The second member of the fire team could be close by, covering, but eventually Roku would have to chance it. They couldn't play cat and mouse forever. Eventually this would have to become a shooting war.

The Hatchette Roku could more feel that see on the far side of the cloister was almost at the turn off to the administrative offices. Roku remembered the dead Matron she had left there. If Roku timed it just right... The Hatchette would have to pause there and determine the identity of the victim. Part of their orders would be assuring the safe extraction of the missing Matron's, Roku knew, and that few seconds the Hatchette would spend turning over the body would be a few second that the Hatchette would be distracted. Roku could use that to her advantage. She lowered herself slowly, silently down to the floor beside the column and leaned out to bring her auto-burner around the column. The faint light from the Head Matron's office was casting shadows down the corridor and out into the cloister. Roku could see the lump where the dead Matron lay. She raised her burner, waiting.

Almost imperceptibly, a shadow to the left of the dead Matron began to move, taking tentative steps out into the open. Roku held her fire, it taking all her willpower to do so. Her fire team partner could still waiting somewhere, just like Roku, waiting for Roku to give away her position. The shadow was moving toward the dead Matron, reached out a hand, turning the body over. The hand came back, to the shadow's ear, reporting it. It was now or never...

Roku let loose with a single bolt from the auto-burner – momentarily jerking the trigger. The bolt arced across the cloister and exploded against the shadow. Roku didn't wait to see the results, she was up and moving. And it saved her life. From another column, to the left of Roku's position an auto-burner went full automatic, raining down plasma on the column behind which Roku had been hiding. The concussion of the explosions and Roku stockinged feet on the slipper stone sent her sprawling. She righted herself and fired back with her gun at full auto. The cloister was ablaze with superheated gas. Shrapnel of marble rained down all around. Roku dived, slid on her belly, and tumbled down the corridor the led to the Social Sciences wing. Roku got up on her feet and ran, slipping around a corner – slipping around the corner where she had taken her tumble all those months before, making her late for her history class, that fateful day she had met the Nanpa Girls. There were no books to gather up this time, she climbed quickly to her feet and moved backward down the corridor. A figure poked a head around the far end, looking down after Roku; and Roku let loose with a stream of plasma bolts. The entire mouth of the corridor exploded in on itself. Roku turned and ran. No auto-burner fire followed her, but the soft metallic clink on stone could just be heard. Roku doubled her sprint, disregarding the soreness in her thigh. 

The grenade exploded knocking Roku on her face. She scrambled to roll over, bringing the auto-burner up, but the grenade had brought the whole roof of the corridor down behind her. Roku got to her feet and took a corner, another, then another, then ran up stairs into the dormitories. She was moving too fast, running without thinking, and she ran right into a pair of them. They were running across the dormitory, potentially to flank Roku. The only thing that saved Roku's life was that the two black hooded Hatchettes seemed to be as surprised by Roku as Roku was surprised by then. 

Auto-burners came up, Roku's first, sending a chain of plasma bolts into the lead Hatchette. Her hydro vest exploded with a plume of water, but the third or fourth bolt found its mark and erupted in her chest. The second Hatchette fired as Roku dropped to her knees, sending her bolts over Roku's head. Roku let the natural concussion of her gun fire the plasma bolts higher and higher until she was intentionally firing into the ceiling. She emptied the last of her plasma bottle there, bring large blocks of the slate roof down. The avalanche sent the Hatchette scrambling and Roku turned on her heels. She tossed her empty auto-burner aside, reaching for the handgun in the pocket of her coat.

A massive chunk of roof slate came crashing down, though a set of bunk beds and through the floor beneath. Roku was back out the door she had come in by, into the dormitory across the hall. She sprinted, she could hear the sound of boots on the stairs behind her. At the door at the far end of the dormitory she turned and let off a few shorts from the hand burner. Hatchettes were just cresting the doorway as she did and it sent them scuffling back.

She was in another common room. The vidscreen here was showing snow, too, with the disembodied voice of Lt. Zee pleading for Roku's acquiescence. Roku didn't pause, she took the stairs behind the common room and came out beside the gym. She doubled under the stairs and took the staff corridor that went by the kitchens. A doorway, and she was out into the Grand Hall. She'd come full circle...

Something moved in the gallery and Roku snapped fired. Her aim was true, a splash of water from a hydro vest sprayed over the ledge. Roku bolted across the Grand Hall with a string of plasma bolts tracking after her. Through another door and she was again in amongst classrooms. Math, Science. She glanced down at the readout on the plasma bottle of her handgun. She had ammo for three, maybe four more shots. And then... 

Roku was tired of running. Physically tired and mentally. She opened a door to a classroom and closed it quietly. She hobbled across the classroom floor in her stocking feet and sat down heavily behind a Matron's large, wooden desk. She dropped the burner down next to the tablet that sat on the table, and let herself relax for a second. She was in the first year calculus class, she realized, looking at the differential equations on the board. She'd got a B in this class... Roku smiled.

There was the sound of booted feet in the hallway. Roku reached out and put her hand on the gun, but the boots kept moving by. It wouldn't fool them for long, Roku knew, once the flanking fire team met up with the advance. She let herself relax again. 

Perhaps if she'd brought more guns and didn't still have sedatives floating around in her system... If she'd been fresh and on the top of her game... No, that would still have been no good. At her best, she could have taken three, maybe four other Hatchettes. She'd always been the best, back in training. The fastest, the smartest, the best shot. She'd have happily pitted her skills against three or four of the other girls, but seven... No, there was just no way. No one was that fast, no one was that strong. It just could be done. Not by anyone.

It was all well and good to make excuses, Roku thought, but she still have a mission to accomplish. Alright, the mission she had always though was her mission had turned out to be a lie. She understood that now, after saying it, out loud, to Pelli, Roku realize that she'd come to accept that fact. There were no Dick Terrorist for her to kill. All the Dicks, all the men she had killed were innocent – at least innocent of the crimes she'd killed them for. The rapists, they deserved to die, but all those men in the brownstone...

And her real mission, she'd failed at, also. Lady Aru still lived, she was First Commissar; the very eventuality that Lady Es had created the Hatchettes to avoid. But Roku couldn't blame herself for that failure. If she'd known... But still, Roku held no hatred toward Lady Aru. In a sick way, she loved her. Not, perhaps, as a lover – in the way Roku loved Pelli – but after a fashion... She would have never have succeeded in her mission, even if Lt. Zee had activated her. She just would not have been able to murder Lady Aru...

No, Roku's mission now was Pelli. Pelli was an innocent in the whole thing. The Commissariat would have her killed, for what she knew, but none of that was the fault of Pelli. It was all Roku. If she'd just left well enough alone. If she hadn't let her feeling for Pelli distract her from her mission – but then that mission had been a lie, and her real mission she could never have succeed at... 

Fuck it! Roku cursed, rubbing her eyes, she was thinking in circles.

No... Pelli had always been Roku's mission, from the very beginning. She was the only true, real thing in this whole mess – the only constant. Roku had to focus on that.

Pelli had to survive. 

Roku had to survive. Because if she died, Pelli would die, too...

Roku pulled herself up to her feet and picked up her burner. She wouldn't last five more minutes inside the school, Roku knew. She looked out the window at the dark playing fields. She wouldn't last thirty seconds out there, she concluded. There had to be a third option... Roku hobbled back to the classroom door, opening it a fraction, peering out. 

Then it came to her. 

The coast seemed clear and Roku stepped out of the classroom, now with a goal. It'd take a minor miracle for her to make it back to the cloister, with only three bolts left in her gun, but it was her best and only hope. She moved quickly through the mathematics wing and then science. She cut through the auditorium that backed out onto the cloister, but paused before stepping out fulling into the open.

Where were the Hatchettes? Roku scanned the shadows of the cloister, searching for the slightest movement. There was no way she could have made it the whole distance without alerting someone...

Then there came the sound of thruster jets above her, and Roku understood. The Hatchettes had taken the pause in the action to medivac a wounded comrade, a VTOL was coming in for a pickup. Roku had gotten her miracle. However many Hatchettes were left – at least five, four if one was obviously wounded – would be distracted covering the pickup. Roku stepped boldly out into the open air of the cloister, confident she had time on her side.

Roku stumbled upon the body of the Matron she had killed and the headless body of Hatchette laying next to it. Roku's aimed shot across the cloister had hit its mark, dropping her target with one shot. The Hatchettes weapons were missing – auto-burner, side-arm – but there were plasma bottles in her pouches. Roku quickly reloaded her handgun and dropped a couple extra bottles into the left pocket of her great coat. 

She then spend precious moments, standing out in the open, an easy target, searching the floor for Anders' damn sunglasses. She'd been fool to take them off, a mistake that had almost gotten her killed, but she'd need them now if she expected to have even a fighting chance. There they were, up against a wall. Roku picked them up and thanked the Holy Matron that they hadn't been damaged... Her second miracle for the day... She put them on over her eyes and the darkness became day. She could see the thermal plumbs of the the VTOL, red and flowing, arcing up over the school. The Hatchettes would be returning, their medivac completed. Roku would have to move.

Back down the Administrative corridor, into the Head Matron's office once again, and down the hidden stairs. She came back into the room where she had found Pelli and picked up the fire axe from beside the headless Matron. Something else she should have never put down, she realized. She slipped her burner into her pocked and grasped the axe with both hands. 

She moved quickly, out of the cell and into the maze of tunnels that stretched into the foundations of the school. She had no idea where she was heading, until a few minutes before she'd had no idea that these tunnels even existed. But she suspected that her adversaries would be equally ignorant. If the Commissariat hadn't bothered to tell Roku that there was a maze of tunnels deep in the bowels of the building where Roku was assigned, it had to be because the Commissariat didn't know. There was no logic to keeping such information from Roku. She suspected that these tunnels were built to the specifications of the Order of Matrons; for they're sick little rights and ceremonies. The Matrons were a secretive organization that existed, only semi-amicably, along side the government. Of course they'd have their secrets. Was there any faction in the Great Society that trusted any other faction? Roku was beginning to doubt it. Great Society, indeed...

Roku's underground wandering brought her to stairs leading up, she took them and came to the back of another secret door. She put her ear against it and listened for a long minute. Nothing. She rested her axe head on a stone step and adjusted the sensitivity of her infrared sunglasses. When she hit the sweet spot the room beyond, the senior dorm, popped into view – the hots and colds of furniture and windows contrasting clearly. This was exactly where Roku wanted to be. She reached out and silently slide open the bolt that was keeping the secret door closed, but she didn't open it, just left it unlatched. She'd wait here, hidden in the walls, wait here and watch...

It was only, perhaps, five minutes before a pair of Hatchettes came into view. They were moving slowly, making sure of the silence of each footfall; their guns out in front of them, scanning. The came down the center aisle of the dorm, looking left then right. Roku held her breath as an auto-burner pointed direct at her – at the locker she must been hiding behind – and then continued its sweep away. When the two Hatchettes had passed, Roku pushed gently on the back of the secret entrance, knowing the slightest noise would mean her death. The locker, fortuitously, on whatever hinges it rotated, seemed well greased. Without making a sound, Roku was out in her stocking moving quickly up behind the Hatchettes, her axe raised above her head.

The axe came down in the center of the rear Hachette's back, rupturing the hydro vest and easily snapping her spine. With a grunt, Roku had the axe out of her victim and swinging back, as the lead Hatchette was bringing her weapon around. At the last moment,the Hatchette rose her auto-burner in an attempt to parry Roku's falling blow. The assault rifle and the axe collided with a great arch of electricity and the rifle fell to the floor. 

The Hatchette reached for her side-arm, but the back of Roku's hand came up and struck her across the face. She reeled back from the blow and Roku brought the axe up for a quick thrust. She caught the Hatchette in the gut, doubling her over. Roku kicked up and her foot caught the Hatchette in the face. She flipped back, crashing, spread-eagle on the floor. 

Roku brought the axe up for a coup de grace, but hesitated at the apex of her swing. The face of the Hatchette at her feet was covered by a mask and goggles, but Roku could tell that she was unconscious. Roku let the axe fall heavily to the floor, reaching down and picking up the burner than had fallen from the Hatchettes hand. This she tucked into the waistband of her tiny, schoolgirl skirt, and she quickly pulled a pair of plasma grenades out of the pouches on the Hatchette's vest. These she dropped into the pockets of her coat. She picked up an auto-burner, the one that still seemed to be functioning, and slung it on her back. She likewise took the side-arm and grenades off the dead Hatchette and stuffed them into the pockets of her coat.

Alright, now she had some guns...

And only two more Hatchettes, if her calculations were correct... Roku slipped behind the secret door out of which she had emerged, latching the locker closed behind her. She could wait her for the next group of Hatchettes to come – attack them while they were seeing to their buddies. For that matter, Roku could have activated a grenade and hidden under the body of that dead girl. After all, wasn't Roku fighting for her life here? Her life and Pelli's? But something in Roku couldn't bring herself to such a dirty trick. No, there were only two Hatchettes left. The odds were evening out. Once upon a time, these people had been friends of Roku's, she owed them as fair a fight as she could possible afford to give them.