Lieutenant Lowden Graves, upon being called in, emerges from the dark chamber behind the door. The white light of the tired neon lamp on the ceiling touched his face with a certain cold and sterility. Within the (somewhat cramped) confinement of his scull, however, there was no cold at all, let alone sterility. Ambre was an amber. The colour of fire, the smoothness of extra virgin olive oil, and captivating whatever had happened to her in the past within the battered glean of her eyes. Her uniform was torn and burned in some places, by her own heat, Graves imagined. Her legs, accentuated by the military boots and the tight trousers with holes, were were very smooth witnesses to the daily exercise she had to have as a gravity free pilot, but they also suggested a lack of rations. Her bottom strongly disagreed. The belt that was a standard part of her uniform emphasized the contrast between her waist, and her hips and chest. In Graves' imagination, it hid two tight strips of abdominals that that would uncontrollably erupt into a shivering contraction, following an overpowering explosion of colours in the nerves down there. But his eyes were pulled up -- not against his will. A tear in the upper left part of her uniform revealed the tender goosebumps that had erected from her soft skin due to the insufficient heating. The tear itself was, on the contrary, the strongest heating Graves knew of. Ambre's two medium whites, proportioned in perfect accord with her satiated bottom, were irradiating his mind. They weren't the largest stars in Sirius, but they were nearly bursting, alike to a pair of large, ripe tomatoes. He would thrust his body into her like the Derby into the Villeneuve, force her down, knead them, crush them with his overwhelming urge, subdue her free will and her right of dignity by force, as her kind wants to do with his home planet. Graves, an underdeveloped former factory worker from Leeds, knew how much out of her league he was, but she was now a prisoner.
Outside, all of this showed as a somewhat kinky smile, which also showed his rotten teeth, and as a focused flame in his eyes. His imaginations were invisible, but his intentions, if he was left with Ambre, alone in the interrogation chamber, were very clear.
"Oi, guv!", he saluted, somewhat bent forward, to hide what he was ashamed of from Sid.
He turned towards Ambre, this time postured correctly and straightly, and flashed another kinky smile: "Miss." "Called me to replace you, guv?" He still held the kinky smile.
![[Image: 396AUfe.png]](https://i.imgur.com/396AUfe.png)