Marie was so unsettled by Jane's surprise appearance on the security tapes that she didn't even register the first few seconds of the next recording. Still, it didn't look like she had missed anything important.
Lemar was sitting behind her desk, listening to a young male security officer who was standing in her office. The chief nodded a few times, then dismissed the man with a wave of her hand, and turned her attention to her workstation once again. As the man walked out, Marie reached out to queue up the next file for playback, but her finger froze an inch away from the console.
On screen, Chief Lemar remained at her station until her subordinate left her office. As soon as the door slid closed behind him, the chief tapped a button on her console, closing the privacy shudders on her office window. Lemar then roughly pushed her chair back from her desk. Her hands moved frantically, fighting with something at the front of her uniform, though the angle of the camera obscured the details from view. In moments, her intent became clear, and Marie felt a flush creep up her cheeks as she watched the woman on screen lean back in her chair, propping one of her booted feet up against the top of the desk. Her left hand was pumping rhythmically between her thighs, while her right desperately clutched at her own chest.
The woman was masturbating, shamelessly pleasuring herself. Her shoulder length dark hair spilled over the back of her chair as her head pitched back, exposing her face to the security camera's view, her features twisted in a mask of lewd bliss. The chief's motions grew more and more frantic, but the camera feed cut out only seconds later, the woman's ecstatic face falling apart in a hiss of static. Still, Marie could easily - too easily - imagine how the video continued.
"What was that?" Marie muttered, flustered. The time stamp indicated that the video was taken only two days after the previous one - five days before the distress signal.
Marie chewed her lip for a moment, the opened the next file.
The recording showed an unfamiliar figure sitting in the chief's chair - a heavy-set and balding man, wearing a stained jumpsuit, of the sort commonly used by technical and custodial crew. The man's head was thrown back, his eyes closed, while his hands clutched at the chair's arm rests. It took Marie several seconds to spot the shock of black hair bobbing up and down at the man's crotch. After a few minutes, the man shuddered and pitched forward in the seat, trembling for half a minute before collapsing back against the chair's seat. Chief Lemar slid out from under her desk, her slim fingers wiping at her lips. She pulled herself up and slipped into the man's lap, moving gracefully and seductively. The recording ended just as the chief was moving the zipper of her own uniform down, exposing her modest breasts.
"Fuck," Marie whispered, her breath hot inside her RIG helmet. She checked the date - three days before the distress call. "What was happening here?"
She hesitated, considering, then..
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