***Author's Note***
I both assume and hope this is a given, but would still like to make it abundantly clear that this story is solely for the purposes of entertainment. Sexual assault in real life is abhorrent and unjustifiable.
***********************************
The spacecraft was headed toward one of the newly-colonized planets. It held a many-person unit, some of whom worked in medical, some in general engineering, cleaning - the works.
Some of them were specifically versed in a variety of technological needs. Often, they were referred to as tech-savs.
Xiaomin was one such tech-sav.
She was a thick, curvaceous woman, dressed in the standard red multi-piece that her section required. Her skin was a glowing olive, long raven hair partly up in a complex set of braids piled upon her head, the rest cascading to mid-back.
There was an hour break in her shift. With many in their relative places and some good fortune, she gathered herself and strolled down the corridor.
There it was. Commander Ku's bedroom.
Xiaomin glanced quickly round the place before willing herself to type in the code from the files she'd unofficially accessed.
Finally, she crept inside.
The room was dull and unusually bare, though there was a single photograph on the nightstand of the Commander and what Xiaomin assumed must've been his exalted deceased partner.
Commander Ku had always seemed so stern. It's part of what drew her to him, that's certain, but he looked different. His maple skin seemed brighter. His dark eyes fuller. Kinder. His black hair hadn't yet greyed at all.
Yet his partner... There was something off about her. She was smiling, yes, but it didn't reach her eyes. She looked tired, her dark skin worn, her eyes defeated, exhausted, somehow.
Xiaomin shouldn't've done it. She shouldn't've done any of it, she knew, but something about the picture, about the thoughts of romance with the muscular Commander.
Her palm slid inside her multipiece.
Already, she was hot, and wet as the Arabian Sea. He was such a fine man.
Fingers circled her clit as she opened the nightstand's drawer with her other hand.
And then she saw them. More photographs.
She was only curious when she first picked them up, but her eyes widened.
They were of women, crying and bruised. Some were bound by chains or ropes. And some were her colleagues. Her former colleagues. They'd departed at the previous moon's rest area, another position awaiting them.
Something had even seemed wrong then, though she wasn't close to them.
But this? What the hell was this?
The door opened suddenly. She tried shoving the photos back in their drawer, body trembling and fiery, but several fell.
Fuck.
"What are you doing here?" the deep and cold voice sounded.
