Frenzy & Torch

Chapter 18: Don't Deal Drugs From A Temple

Lisa Martinson walked into PPF Station 514 back on Ilona. The other officers gave Ken weird looks, but didn't say anything when they noticed his new clearance badge where his lapel would be, if he wore clothes.

The grizzled sergeant who was chewing tobacco at the front desk looked up from the paper he was scribbling on with a pink fluff pen. "You're late, Officer Martinson."

"I don't live on this planet and I got pretty fucked up last night. I needed a drink after almost getting my ass killed by those two psycho bitches and their fuck-buddies. I still got some beef with them, by the way."

"Then I've got good news for you. The higher-ups have called in a special team of five motherfuckers in new souped-up power suits. They want you to be their pilot."

Lisa wanted to complain, but then she realized she'd be bitching about wanting to go on this detail if they'd picked somebody else. She pushed her sunglasses up her face until they rested atop her shampooed hair. "They must be real badasses if they want me to fly 'em around."

"You oughta leave your ego at the door sometime. Anyway, they'll be here any minute. They'll meet you at the tarmac. You should be changing into your flight suit."

"Yes, father," she scoffed as she walked away.

"Why did you call him father?" Ken asked. "You two look nothing alike! Unless he's your adoptive father."

"They don't have sarcasm in the dimension you're from?"

"No."

"Get used to it, it's my second language."

"Very interesting language indeed."

The TV caught Lisa's eye. She stopped and saw a cockroach named Jacque being interviewed on the news. He was speaking highly of the girls.

"Yeah, those ladies saved my village. I don't understand all the bad rep they're getting, they're the only ones doing anything good for the galaxy. If anything, you should look into King Xitanker! That Horthkan dude's manifesto implicated him and a Soviet general in some scummy shit, you've got bigger problems than a couple girls that are like something from an MMORPG!"

"Glad I'm not a lawyer," Lisa commented, "they got their work cut out for them."

A short while later, Lisa and Ken were waiting next to a newer, sleeker transport ship. Approaching them were five men; four were muscular, tattooed, and had beards. The fifth was scrappy, clean-shaven, and didn't look any older than twenty-two. If he was, she would've complimented him on having good skin.

"Wow, what a hot mess," Lisa muttered. She cleared her throat and spoke up. "Hey, how's it goin'? I'll be your chauffeur for this op. I'm Officer Martinson," she pointed over her shoulder, "and that's Ken."

"I'm actually called Fethorkena, but yes, some call me Ken."

"Our names are not important right now," said the foremost man of the squad, "just deliver us to the targets."

" ... Well, I can tell this'll be a real love story. Hop in." Lisa said.

The first four entered the ship. The fifth one, the official runt of the litter, lagged behind and smiled at Lisa. "By the way, we're still coming up with a group name. Don't mind them."