Chapter 14: The Celebration
The rec room hit Stacy like a wall of heat and noise the second the door slid open. Neon blue light washed over everything, catching the curl of cigarette smoke that hung thick near the low ceiling, and the thrum of a bass line rattled the empty bottles lined up along the bar. The place was packed for a Tuesday night, off-duty pilots and techs scattered across the worn leather couches, some hunched over a card game in the corner, others watching a muted sports feed that flickered on the wall monitors.
She was still buzzing. The adrenaline from the terminal, from the chase, from slapping the cuffs on Marcus Thorne's wrists, it hadn't bled off yet. Her knuckles were raw from climbing the catwalk railing and her shoulder ached where the Iron Maiden's harness had dug in during the hard brake, but none of that mattered. She'd done it. She'd taken down a senior officer, and half the damn corps was going to know her name by morning.
A shout went up from the far corner of the room, and Stacy spotted them before she'd taken five steps. Keller, the pilot from the locker room incident, had his boots up on the scarred wooden table, a bottle of something amber dangling from his fingers. Next to him sat Reyes, the comms tech with the shock of red hair and a nose ring that glinted under the neon, and across from them Vasquez, lean and dark-eyed, a gunner with a reputation for being able to thread a round through a moving target's cockpit window from half a klick out.
"You're late, Chen," Keller called out, grinning wide. His voice carried over the noise, and a few heads turned. "We've been toasting your name for the last hour. Figured you'd be up in Rostova's office getting a medal pinned on that tight little chest of yours."
Stacy snorted, weaving through the bodies and low tables until she reached them. The couch groaned as she dropped onto it between Keller and Reyes, and the worn leather sagged under her weight. Someone shoved a glass into her hand, already full of amber liquid that burned her nose with the sharp scent of cheap whiskey.
"Rostova kept me for debriefing." Stacy took a long swallow, letting the heat roll down her throat. "And she doesn't do medals. She does paperwork."
"Ah, fuck paperwork." Keller waved a dismissive hand. "You took down a senior officer, Chen. A goddamn traitor, no less. You think that doesn't deserve a proper send-off?"
His hand landed on her thigh, heavy and warm through the thin fabric of her uniform pants. The touch was casual, familiar, the kind of easy contact that came from a corps where fraternization was practically a job perk. Stacy didn't flinch. She'd learned that lesson in the locker room weeks ago, when she'd swallowed three loads from these very men and walked out grinning.
Reyes leaned in from her other side, close enough that Stacy caught the smell of gun oil and something sweeter, maybe that cheap cologne Reyes wore to cover up the scent of solder and burnt wiring. "Word is you chased him up a catwalk and cuffed him yourself. No backup, no nothing."
"There was backup," Stacy said, taking another drink. The whiskey was starting to loosen the knot in her shoulders. "Jamal called it in. But yeah. I got the cuffs on him."
"And put a round through a grenade, I heard." Vasquez spoke up for the first time, voice low and rough. She'd been nursing her own drink, watching Stacy through half-lidded eyes. "That true?"
Stacy shrugged one shoulder, trying to look modest and failing miserably. The grin kept breaking through. "It was either that or let him toss it at my mech. Seemed like the better option."
Keller's hand squeezed her thigh, fingers digging in just enough to make a point. "I always knew you had a mean streak, Chen. First time I saw you, you walked into the locker room like you owned the place and dropped to your knees without being asked. Took balls for a rookie."
"And a hell of a gag reflex," Reyes added, and Vasquez laughed, a sharp, barking sound.
Stacy felt heat creep up her neck, but it wasn't embarrassment. It was the thrill of being known, of having a reputation that preceded her. She tilted her head back, draining the last of her whiskey, and let Keller pour her another from the bottle at his feet.
"So what's the word?" Keller asked, his voice dropping a little lower as he leaned in. The noise of the rec room seemed to fade around them, the smoke and neon closing in like a curtain. "They locking Thorne up for good?"
"Interrogation's still going." Stacy swirled the amber liquid in her glass. "But his deal with Okafor was caught on camera, weapons-grade plasma conduit and all. Oracle gave me the evidence, and I passed it up the chain. Once they start pulling his transaction records, he's got nowhere to hide."
"Oracle," Vasquez repeated, tasting the word. "The hacker chick from the hauler job. You trust her?"
Stacy hesitated. The question was a sharp edge in the comfortable haze of the evening. Trust. That was a loaded word in the APC these days. She'd trusted Marcus, let him into her bed and her body, and he'd been selling the corps out to the Syndicates the whole time. She'd trusted the system that assigned him as her mentor. Hell, she was still trying to figure out who she could trust.
But Oracle had been there, feeding her intel, guiding her through the darkness of that hijacked hauler, handing her the evidence that brought Thorne down. Whatever Oracle's reasons, whatever debts she was trying to settle, she'd been on the right side of this one.
"Enough to work with her," Stacy said finally. "Not enough to turn my back."
Keller grunted in approval. "Smart. You're learning."
"I always learn fast." Stacy met his eyes, and there was a challenge in her own, a spark she felt catch and flare. "Ask the locker room."
Reyes laughed again, tipping her head back so the neon caught the curve of her throat. "Fuck, Chen. You really are something else. Here we were, thinking you'd be some uptight rookie who'd come in and make us all look bad with your academy manners."
"And instead you're the one who took down a corrupt senior officer and banged three pilots in one night," Vasquez said, a slow smile spreading across her thin face. "Gotta say, the APC recruitment office never mentioned that in the brochure."
Stacy grinned, raising her glass. "I like to exceed expectations."
They drank to that, the whiskey burning a warm trail down her throat. The rec room hummed around them, the bass line thumping through the floor, the blue neon painting everyone in shades of electric shadow. Stacy's body was loose and warm from the alcohol, and Keller's hand was still on her thigh, his thumb tracing lazy circles against the firm muscle there.
"You know," he said, his voice a low rumble that brushed against her ear, "we never did finish celebrating the first time you saved my ass. That rogue mech, the one that nearly put me in the ground. You put it down like it was nothing, and all I did was buy you a drink that you didn't even finish."
"You bought me more than a drink," Stacy reminded him. "You and Jamal both."
"Ah, but that was before you earned your full combat clearance. Before you took down a senior officer." Keller's thumb pressed harder, riding the edge between comfort and suggestion. "This is a different level of achievement, Chen. This deserves a proper send-off."
Stacy's mouth was dry despite the whiskey, her pulse ticking up in her throat. She knew where this was going. The couch was dim, tucked into the corner of the rec room where the smoke hung thickest, and the three of them had shifted closer without her noticing. Reyes's knee pressed against hers, and Vasquez had moved from her seat across the table to perch on the arm of the couch, her fingers brushing through Stacy's short, choppy hair.
"There's a supply closet in the back," Reyes said, her voice a conspiratorial murmur. "Kept it stocked with everything we need for post-shift unwinding. Mops, buckets, a first aid kit, and a whole shelf of clean towels."
Vasquez's fingers curled in Stacy's hair, tilting her head back. "And if anyone asks, we were just giving the rookie a proper welcome to the squad."
Stacy's breath came short and fast. The whiskey, the heat, the pressure of Keller's hand on her thigh all combined to send a pulse of want straight through her. She'd spent the last four hours running on adrenaline and nerves, chasing a traitor, firing on guards, slapping cuffs on a man she'd once let fuck her against a shower wall. The tension was still coiled in her muscles, tight as a spring, and she knew exactly how to release it.
"Fuck it," she said, and the grin that spread across her face was sharp and hungry. "Take me to the supply closet."
Keller moved first, rising from the couch and pulling her up with him. His hand stayed on her hip as they wove through the rec room, past a card game and a cluster of techs arguing over a datapad. Reyes trailed behind, her hand pressed to the small of Stacy's back, guiding her through the dim space, and Vasquez fell in at the rear, a shadow in the blue light.
The supply closet door was marked with a faded sign that read, in careful lettering, "REC ROOM STORES. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY." Keller pushed it open, and the smell of bleach and industrial cleaner washed over them, undercut by something musty and old. The emergency bulb above cast a single pool of harsh white light over a stack of folded towels and a mop bucket, leaving the rest of the space in deep shadow.
"Home sweet home," Reyes said, already reaching behind her to lock the door. The click of the bolt was loud in the small space.
Keller walked Stacy backward until her hips hit the shelf of towels. The stacked fabric was soft beneath her palms, and the shelf creaked under her weight. His hands found her waist, thumbs hooking under the hem of her uniform shirt, and his mouth came down on hers, hot and demanding.
Stacy kissed him back, open-mouthed, the taste of whiskey mingling between them. She could feel the hard line of his body pressing against her, the rough fabric of his tactical pants scraping her thighs. Behind her, Reyes's hands slid around her sides, finding the clasp of her belt and working it open with practiced ease.
"Let's get this off," Reyes murmured, tugging at the zipper of Stacy's pants. "I've been thinking about what's underneath since the locker room."
Vasquez crowded in from the side, her mouth finding the curve of Stacy's neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. Stacy tipped her head back, a low moan escaping her throat as Vasquez's hand slid under her shirt, palm flat against her stomach, warm and insistent.
"Fuck," Stacy breathed. "You three been planning this?"
"Since we heard you cuffed Thorne," Keller said, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. His were dark, pupils blown wide in the harsh light. "A woman who can take down a traitor and swallow a whole squad's worth of cum in one night? That's the kind of officer I want under me."
His hands found the hem of her shirt and pulled it up, over her head, leaving her in just her regulation sports bra, dark navy with the APC eagle stamped over her heart. The air was cool against her skin, raising goosebumps that had nothing to do with the temperature.
Vasquez's mouth found her collar bone, tracing down across her chest. She hooked a finger under the bra strap, pulling it aside, and her tongue found Stacy's nipple, wet and hot. Stacy gasped, her hips bucking forward as Vasquez sucked her breast into her mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive peak.
Meanwhile, Keller had made quick work of her pants, shoving them down over her hips along with her underwear. The shelf pressed against the backs of her thighs as he lifted her, settling her ass on the edge of the folded towels, her legs spread open for any of them to take.
"Holy shit," Reyes breathed, crouching down between Stacy's thighs. Her fingers traced up the inside of Stacy's legs, featherlight, teasing. "Look at that. Already wet for us."
It was true. Stacy could feel the slickness coating the inside of her thighs, the heat pooling low in her belly as Vasquez's tongue worked her nipple and Keller's mouth claimed hers in a deep, demanding kiss. She was on fire, every nerve ending sparking with want.
"I want your mouth on me," Stacy told Reyes, her voice rough. "Right now."
Reyes didn't need telling twice. Her mouth found Stacy's cunt, tongue dragging through the slick folds in one long, flat stroke that made Stacy's whole body clench. She cried out, the sound swallowed by Keller's kiss as Reyes lapped at her, finding her clit with practiced ease.
"Jesus, you taste good," Reyes murmured against her skin, the vibration of her voice sending sparks through Stacy's clit. "Been thinking about this since the locker room. Watching you choke down those cocks, the way you swallowed like you were born for it."
Stacy's head fell back, thumping softly against the wall as Reyes's tongue worked her. Vasquez had moved to her other side, sucking marks into the curve of her throat while her hand kneaded Stacy's breast. Keller had stepped back, and Stacy could hear the sound of his belt buckle clinking, the rasp of his zipper.
"Open your mouth," Keller said, and Stacy looked up to find him standing before her, cock in hand. It was thick and hard, the head dark with blood, a bead of pre-cum glistening on the tip. "You earned this, rookie."
Stacy reached out and wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft, stroking him once, twice, before leaning forward to take him in her mouth. He tasted like salt and soap and the faint musk of the day's exertions. Her tongue traced the ridge of his cock as she sank down, deeper, until his head bumped the back of her throat.
"That's it," Keller groaned, his hand finding the back of her head, fingers threading through her short hair. "Take it all. Fucking choke on it."
Meanwhile Reyes had shifted position, her mouth still working between Stacy's thighs but now two fingers had joined, sliding into her slick cunt and curling against that spot inside that made stars burst behind her eyes. Stacy moaned around Keller's cock, the vibration making him hiss and thrust deeper into her mouth.
Vasquez had moved around behind her, and Stacy felt hands on her hips, pulling her harder against Reyes's face. Her head was swimming, caught between the three of them, pleasure pouring through her from every angle. She was going to come undone, right here in a supply closet under a bare emergency bulb, with the smell of bleach and gunpowder in her nose.
Keller's hips began to pump in a steady rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of her throat as his grip tightened in her hair. Reyes's fingers were relentless, stroking her g-spot while her mouth worked her clit, sucking and licking in a pattern that had Stacy's thighs trembling against her shoulders.
"I'm close," Stacy pulled off Keller's cock just long enough to gasp. "Fuck, I'm so fucking close."
"Not yet," Vasquez's hands tightened on her hips. "I want a taste too. Move."
Reyes pulled back with a wet sound, her chin glistening, and Vasquez immediately swooped in. She didn't bother with foreplay. Her mouth found Stacy's cunt, tongue plunging deep, lapping up the slick mess Reyes had made while her thumb found Stacy's clit and pressed hard.
Stacy screamed, more or less, a strangled sound muffled by the thick meat of Keller's cock as he shoved it back into her mouth. Vasquez's tongue was thicker than Reyes's, broader, more demanding, and she ate at Stacy like she was starving for it, growling against her skin.
"There we go," Reyes said from somewhere to the side, her voice breathy. "That's a good girl. We're gonna fuck you so hard you forget your own damn name."
Keller pulled out of Stacy's mouth with a wet pop, his cock slick with her spit. He stepped back, giving her a view of Vasquez between her thighs, the dark head bobbing as she devoured Stacy's cunt.
"Turn her over," Keller said. "I want to take her from behind."
Vasquez reluctantly pulled away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Stacy's legs were shaky as she slid off the shelf, but Keller caught her, turning her around, pressing her forward until her hands found the shelf again. She could feel him behind her, the heat of his body, the head of his cock pressing against her slick, swollen entrance.
"Ready?" he asked, his voice thick.
"Fucking do it," Stacy demanded, pushing her hips back against him.
He didn't hold back. He plunged into her, a single deep thrust that buried his cock to the hilt inside her dripping cunt. Stacy cried out, pleasure and satisfaction both ripping through her as she finally felt filled, completed, the pressure of the day pouring out of her with every inch he gave her.
Keller held still for a moment, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, and then he began to move. His rhythm was brutal, exactly what she needed, cock driving into her with a wet slap that echoed off the supply closet walls. Reyes pressed herself against Stacy's side, finding her mouth with hers, and Stacy tasted herself on Reyes's lips, the combined flavors of Vasquez and Keller and her own slick heat.
"Fuck, you feel incredible," Keller grunted, his fingers digging into her hips. "Goddamn, best rookie we've ever had."
Stacy couldn't form words, could barely form coherent thoughts. The angle was perfect, his cock driving against her g-spot with every thrust, and she could feel herself rushing toward the edge, her center tightening, the coiled tension of the last hours about to snap.
Vasquez appeared in front of her, pulling Reyes back from the kiss. Her dark eyes bore into Stacy's as she knelt on the linoleum floor, looking up at the pair of them. "When you come," Vasquez said, her voice low and rough, "I want to watch what it does to that pretty little face."
Stacy's orgasm crashed over her like a wave, pulling her under. Her body convulsed, walls clenching around Keller's cock as she cried out, his name or someone's name, it didn't matter. He kept pounding into her through it, drawing it out, the waves of pleasure rolling through her until she was trembling and gasping.
Keller pulled out just as she was coming down, and before she could catch her breath, Vasquez was pushing her down onto the floor, onto her knees. She collapsed onto her hands, gasping, and looked up to see Vasquez's hand between her own legs, her dark fingers working her cunt while she watched.
"Now you," Stacy croaked. "I want to taste you."
Vasquez moved fast, straddling Stacy's face with a grace that was almost brutal. The lean gunner tasted sharp and salty, her thighs pressing against either side of Stacy's head, her wet flesh sliding across Stacy's mouth as she rode her tongue. In Stacy's peripheral vision, Keller had come up behind Vasquez, and from the choked sound Vasquez made, he was settling inside her too.
"So damn tight," he ground out, his voice muffled in Vasquez's shoulder.
Reyes moved in too, pressing her half-naked body against Stacy's side. Her head rested against Stacy's shoulder, and she guided Stacy's hand between her own thighs. "Don't forget about me," she breathed.
The scene grew carnal and messy, four bodies intertwined in the dim supply closet. Vasquez dripped onto Stacy's face while Keller pounded her from behind, and Reyes writhed beside them, her fingers wrapped around Stacy's as they worked her slick, swollen clit together. The air filled with grunts and moans, the wet sounds of sex and the slap of skin against skin.
Vasquez came with a scream, her thighs clamping around Stacy's head, her cum flooding Stacy's mouth. Stacy swallowed, tasting the gunner's sharpness, her own climax cresting again at the sensation of being used, devoured.
Keller followed seconds later, with a ragged shout, his cock buried deep in Vasquez's ass, his release spurting hot and thick inside her. Vasquez cried out, riding the sensation as he filled her. Reyes came with a shudder against Stacy's side, grinding her clit against their linked fingers.
When they finally pulled apart, untangling sweaty limbs and pulling clothes back over flushed skin, Stacy was propped weakly against the shelf of towels. Her legs felt like jelly. Her throat was raw. Every muscle in her body hummed with spent pleasure.
Reyes leaned in and kissed her, soft and lingering. "Welcome to the squad, Chen."
Keller buckled his belt, grinning down at her. "You're gonna go far in the APC, rookie."
Stacy laughed, a breathless, wrecked sound. "I sure as hell hope so. Because I'm not finished with Thorne yet. There's a whole network of people who bought what he sold, and I'm going to find every last one of them."
"One thing at a time, Chen." Vasquez smoothed her dark hair back, a rare smile cracking her lean face. "First, you have to get through tomorrow's debriefing without Rostova killing you for not following procedure on the terminal op."
Stacy groaned, letting her head fall back. "Don't remind me."
The rec room was quieter when they emerged, the crowd thinning out as pilots and techs drifted toward their quarters. The smoke had cleared somewhat, the neon still washing the space in blue. Stacy's legs were shaky as she made her way back to the couch, and she fell into the leather seat with a satisfied sigh.
A cold, half-empty bottle sat abandoned at her elbow. She picked it up, poured a splash of whiskey into a dirty glass, and drank. It burned going down, but that felt right. Everything had burned a little tonight, and she had come out the other side warmer for it.
Tomorrow there would be debriefings and reprimands and more questions she didn't have answers to. Tomorrow Marcus Thorne would likely start talking, and the web he'd woven would start to unravel. Tomorrow Oracle might reach out again with more intel, another piece of the puzzle, and Stacy would have to decide who she trusted in the shadows.
But tonight she was alive, and she'd taken down her first corrupt officer, and her body was humming with the satisfaction of it all. She tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and smiled. The celebration was winding down, but it wasn't done yet, and neither was she.