Captain's quarters

Soon you are clothed and escorted down another series of corridors. Sinda and Zeska are silent, but Merix chats casually about all the things she will have you do once you are given to her as her ****. Although some of it sounds like it might be fun, you nevertheless don't fancy the idea of being anyone's ****, even if it is an attractive woman.

After some time you find yourself in a different section of the ship, where grated walkways and pipe-strewn walls give way to smooth, metal surfaces. These hallways are much cleaner, as well, with large metal doors spaced at regular intervals. At the end of one particularly long corridor, you come to an ornate door decorated with the emblem of the long-dead Antican fleet. It seems you've arrived at the Captain's quarters.

As the door slides open, someone pushes you in none too gently from behind. Before the doors hiss shut, you hear Merix say, "Ya'd better hope she gives ya ta me when she's done with ya, hot stuff. Some a' the ladies round here might wanna cut that pretty face a' yers."

You are now in a large room that is every bit as grand as the Captain's quarters of a fleet flagship should be. Colorful Antican carpets cover the floor, and the walls are lined with paintings and hangings depicting various scenes of heroism and triumph. Sculptures and figurines carved from precious metals and crystals rest atop lacquered synthwood furniture.

In each corner of the room stands a tall, fit woman wearing a red, skin-tight thermal suit. Each woman has a holstered sidearm at her hip, and they all stand as still as statues. The tattoos on the left sides of their faces mark them as an older but reliable model of combat clone.

In the middle of the room sits a large wooden desk suitable for a governor's study, and much too opulent for any room in a military vessel. Behind it in a large, plush, red-cushioned chair sits the Captain, herself.

Although she is seated, you can tell that Tering Cale is tall. She is your height, maybe a little taller. Her pale skin is flawless, and you wonder if her long red hair is as soft as it looks. She is dressed in a red naval uniform complete with polished black boots and service cap, and rows of ribbons and medals sit atop her considerable bosom. You think to yourself that perhaps the rumors about Cale being a commander in the Antican fleet are true.

All further thought is gone as you meet her ice blue gaze. As cold as those eyes are, you can still get lost in them. With one hand she motions you over to an expensive looking chair in front of the desk. "Please," she says with a hint of a smile, "have a seat."