And into the Belly of the Beast

Stepping off the Breaker is like diving off a cliff into water without knowing how deep it will be. You even get that tingle of vertigo as you move between the two ship's gravity fields. Fuckers turned up the gravity a little bit too. Greeting you is a squad of goons made up of mismatched armor, weapons and species. You see a Gavleth, an Oo’lick, and a species you don’t recognize, as well as a couple of humans. They all defer to a slender woman, with dark skin and darker curls that fall down her back. She wear tight pants that disappear into jackboots and a long coat she leaves open, revealing a chest holster. The holster is the only thing she wears under the coat.

“Welcome aboard Freedom’s End. I’m First Mate Swanna, and I’m here to escort you to our good captain.”

“I recognize your voice from the comm. I believe you threatened me with slavery.” You hope you sound cool and collected. Like you have a modicum of control.

“At the time I was actually promising it, but the captain has other ideas. For now.” Well, so much for control. Swanna looks you up and down. "Perhaps he can be persuaded otherwise. You’ll follow me now.” It is not a request.

You glance around the bay before leaving. Mostly you’re trying to get an idea of what’s going to come after you if you need to storm out of here. Five Stilettos; snub fighters available on the civilian market. Cheap, easy to maintain, reasonably easy to modify. The Breaker can probably handle them so long as their pilots aren’t veteran dogfighters. Next up is an **** shuttles. Looks like it was originally an atmospheric cargo shuttle before someone added the armor plating and the guns. You wouldn’t want to get in a firefight with it, but you would be fine racing it.

“I like your ship,” Swanna calls over her shoulder. “Retrofitted pleasure yacht, am I right?” Was she casing my ship while I was casing hers? “Of course, our fighters could run it down and hold it in position long enough for the shuttle to disable and board you. Not that you would ever **** it to come to that, would you darling?” Fucking skank! “You seem to have made some nice mods. I look forward to learning all about them.”

“Maybe someday I’ll give you a personal tour.” You grind your teeth as you walk between your security detail. You take some comfort that you still have your weapons; your ever present stun whip, your pistol, and your bandoleer of tricks. Of course, the Gavleth next to you has his arms, which really count as four guns, so maybe it all balances out.

The Freedom’s End is a quiet ship, especially for a pirate vessel. Usually, they’re full of the sounds of drunk pirates and ravished prisoners. Hell, since this is a syndicate ship, you expected a bound **** girl at every junction, just on principle. But the silence is eerie. You keep hoping for some sound of sentient life that never comes. All you can hear is the white noise of the background systems, and the strutting of heels on the deckplate. It’s probably a trick to unnerve prisoners. Begrudgingly, you must admit it’s working. Not that I’m a prisoner. It is very important you keep telling yourself that.

After a tense turbolift ride you step onto the bridge of the Freedom’s End. This at least is more in line with what you’re expecting. Nude slaves stand on the periphery ready to serve any needy crewman. About a dozen Consoles all face a wall to wall viewscreen currently displaying a map of the system, with the Freedom’s End on its outer edge, about a few light minutes outside the jump point’s exit. Crew as varied as your security detail man their stations, while a few are clearly enjoying a slavegirl under the consoles.

That’s the front half at least. The back is less of a bridge and more of a throne room. Tapestries depicting a man accomplishing various feats of strength and sexual prowess provide the backdrop for a scene of opulence. The furs of rare beast cover the floor providing a kaleidoscope of colors patterns and textures. Two serving slaves, wearing only elaborate jewelry are holding beverages and a tray of decadent treats on either side of a massive onyx throne. Frantically servicing it’s inhabitant is a third **** girl, a pretty little brunette with a plump ass. Her desperation to please is in stark contrast with the blank expression worn by the rest of the slaves on the bridge.

Finally, you take in the man himself. He gazes from his throne with casual disregard for all that he sees. It’s the kind of apathy that only comes from absolute power and authority. He wears nothing above the waste proudly displaying what was once a statuesque physique. Now it is a mangled mess. While the left side of his face and body are quite handsome, a mass of scar tissue blooms from his right shoulder up his skull, across his chest and down his side. His original right arm and eye have been replaced with mechanical contraptions. You have no doubt that a man as successful as Rhodes could afford higher quality bionics; either ones that blend in seamlessly with his natural body or even vat grown biological replacements. He instead has chosen cruder alternatives. His right arm is a skeletal thing, which looks as though it’s been bolted to his shoulder. As he takes a gulp from a golden goblet, you can see its inner workings whine and hum. His right eye is a covered by a black square surrounded by scar tissue. A full head of long platinum hair on one side fades to wispy strands on the right. You try your damnedest to avoid staring. You fail.

“So,” he says looking you over, clearly unimpressed “you can help find this Melodia slut, I’m stuck out here waiting for." It's amazing how he can sound so dismissive while receiving a blowjob. "I am intrigued, but I can’t help but notice you’re here, and she’s not. It makes me question your ability to catch this girl.”

If you only knew… “As I said, I was chasing down a lead. One of many.” You avoid looking at the two slaves on either side of him. They are gorgeous. Two blondes so close in appearance they could have been twins. Their classic beauty and hourglass figure is tantalizing until you look into their eyes. You get the distinct impression that there’s nothing looking back. “The information I had indicated that this was her final destination, so I thought I would let her come to me. Of course, you being the superior tactician, got the idea first.”

“Don’t waste my time with flattery, I have unadjusted slaves for that.” Unadjusted? The **** working his cock pauses for the briefest of instances, before resuming her efforts with even more intensity than before. “While your intelligence gathering is to be commended your skills as a bounty hunter are not. You clearly followed the wrong trail.”

“There are other trails. With you here, that leaves me free to pursue other avenues of investigation.”

“Good bounty hunters have prisoners. Bad bounty hunters have leads. I hope you have something more concrete.”

Shit what do I have? After some quick thinking you spit out, “I have transmission logs. From her and her accomplice. They are planning on meeting on one of the moons of Tetrion Beta. My ship is fast. I can go pick them up and you can go back to pirating. The great Malcolm Rhodes is better than guard duty.”

“Captain,” Swanna steps up next to you, dangerously close. “This one is clearly wasting our time. The only thing she has to offer us is a fine ass.” She latches a hand onto one of your cheeks. Without hesitation your elbow is driving toward her neck but she is ready for you. Her free hand catches your elbow. You halt your follow up strike when you realize the guards are all pointing their weapons at you. Predatory smiles grace their faces.

“I think you’re right Swanna.” Rhodes settles back into his chair and rests his chin on a robotic hand. “I do hate this assignment though.” With his free hand he drums his finger along the throne’s wide armrest. At last he seems to come to a decision. “Alright slut, I will give you one chance to catch this little trollop. I'm only doing this because those I report to get annoyed when I liquidate contractors needlessly.” He leans forward. “But if you fail me, it will not be a gaggle of fringe world gunslingers who will pursue you. It will be the Freedom’s End herself. I have not yet seen the craft that can evade me. You will be no different and I will personally show you why there are so many terrible stories surrounding this ship.”

You gulp. “That seems entirely fair.” And also a problem for tomorrow. “I’ll just leave you to it then.”

“Captain,” says an anonymous crewman. “We have another ship in the gravity scoop.”

“Two in one day eh? That’s more than we’ve caught in the past two months. Perhaps we’re lucky and this is our target.” You know it’s not and are equally surprised. Who the hell would come way out here? No one else thinks there is anything out here worth taking except Melodia, me, the Syndicate, and… Oh, just fuck me sideways.

“Sir, it’s an Iah Kuru longship.”

“Hmmm. Haven’t seen one of those in a long time. Put it on the screen.” Sure enough, that’s Bellextra’s ship. Maneuvering thrusters adjusting her bearing and lining her up so that her prow is pointed right at the Freedom’s End. “Open a channel. I want to hear what our red friend has to say.”

Bellextra’s gorgeous face is projected on the screen. “Unknown vessel. I have reason to believe that two quarries I am pursuing are in this system,” she states matter of factly. “Given the nature of my exit, I assume that they are aboard your vessel, pirate. You will surrender them to me and I will allow you to leave the system unmolested.”

For a moment the room is dead silent. Even the **** working on Rhodes cock has stopped her slurping to stare at the women who would defy Freedom’s End. Then everyone bursts out laughing. One man looks like he might burst his lung. Another receives what is most likely a mild concussion when his Gavleth friend slaps him on the shoulder so hard he’s knocked forward and strikes his head on his station. After what must be at least a full minute of raucous laughter, throughout which Bellextra wears the same businesslike expression, Rhodes finally seems to gain enough composure to carry on a conversation. “Heheh” he chuckles, getting the last of it out of his system. “Well, I’ll give you points for balls. Balls which I will **** for making demands of me. Tell me, before I drag your ship on board and let my crew gang bang you, who are you looking for. I’m really hoping you have another good joke in there for me.”

“I am looking for a bounty hunter my sources identify as Natalia Demsys, and Melodia Starmack, who I believe the syndicate has a bounty on. If this is true, you can have her after I am done with her.”

Every gun on the bridge is pointed at you. It’s a pirate bridge, so they have a whole fucking lot of guns. Swanna looks like she just won the lottery. “You guys don’t think that joke was funny?” You ask lightly.

Rhodes face is turning a shade of red to match Bellextra. “Kill transmission.” Bellextra’s face winks out of existence. Rhodes violently shoves the **** girl away and stands, his fully erect cock standing free and proud. “You… I don’t have the words. No, I do have the words. Take this slut for adjustment. No, wait, **** her first. I don’t care how, just make it painful. If your gonna fuck her, ass only, no lube.”

Strong hands grab you and cuff your arms behind your back. You are relieved of your weapons and **** towards the turbolift. “Captain, we’re having trouble maintaining hold with the gravity scoop.” Pipes up the crewman from before.

“Get that alien tranny on my ship or I'll use you as her replacement!” Shouts Rhodes. Your escort pushes the call button for the turbo lift. “You get that fucking ship in my hold so that I can have two **** dolls tonight.” Once again, your escort pushes the button, looking over his shoulder at the captain while he does so.

“Excuse me,” you ask. Your escort looks like a man who just walked into his home to find a Carnagor in it. “Just to be clear, you’re going to be bringing that Iah Kuru onto this ship, with the intent of torturing her, and not giving me and Melodia up to her right?” Your escort is really panicking now, and is frantically slamming the call button as though his life depended on that elevator getting there faster. Given Captain Rhodes reputation, it very well might. "She will be facing a very hostile environment, yes? One that will almost certainly guarantee ****? I'm just curious."

“The fuck is she still doing here? Get her out of here. And get a security detail to the hangar. Make sure they have plenty of restraints, whips, shock rods, anything that will cause pain and humiliation. After we get that Iah Kuru, I want this cum dumpster's ship searched. Our target is probably on board.”

“Captain, the gravity scoop can’t seem to maintain hold of that ship.”

“What are you talking about? No ship that small can get out of a gravity scoop.”

I used to have similar thoughts about personal shield generators. The elevator finally arrives and your anxiety ridden escort pushes you inside. In his rush, he doesn’t notice your smile. Oh, look at that, he has a red shirt.