You accept

You nod, signaling that you accept.

"Good call," the man says, then he slaps you on the butt again.

One by one the cuffs are released from your wrists and ankles, and the ballgag is removed from your mouth. You are escorted out of the ship naked, then with a loud thud, a bag containing your gear lands on the docking bay's floor next to you. Then with another thud, a data disk is flung beside it. You take both of them in your hands, and start walking back to your ship, like nothing ever happened.

"You have one week. After that we will be right on top of you," the captain says.

You nod. And you continue to walk.

Once you are back to the Galilei, you get dressed, and for a moment, it truly feels like nothing happened. Except that you can feel the tracker in your intestines. A crucial change that is to define every waking moment.

You go to the cockpit, and you input the coordinates to Lonar V, the planet the data disk points you to. After that, the auto pilot takes your vessel out of the dock, and with a screeching sound, your ship enters FTL.

Six hours. You read the data from the console. You think about sleeping until then. But why? You are an adenian. You can handle long stretches of being awake. Instead, you go back to your cabin, and you start to masturbate, imagining the members of the pirate gang as they take turns on you. Is it wicked? Yes. But that's what makes your mind tick. And that's all there is to it.