Horny Gold Ep. 09

Welcome back to the Hornigold! A lot happened in the last episode, so I think it's probably worth a brief summary here: Alma, Theo, and Lucia have been kidnapped by pirates! Because why have one damsel in distress when you can have three! Inflation's a bitch, amirite? Anywho, our intrepid captain doesn't know about this yet, but he's about to find out! I wonder if he's going to overreact?

This episode is going to revisit some characters we first met in episode 2, so give that a reread if the spirit moves you.

And. Here. We. Goooo!

"Hey, you."

Erwin Wu turned to see Nikki Bradshaw approaching him from the side. She looked different, better somehow. He wasn't sure what exactly it was she'd done, but now she appeared casual, even happy. Hell, she'd been living aboard his ship the last several weeks and he'd never so much as seen her wear sweatpants. She let down her hair figuratively and literally, her curly black hair draping over her shoulders.

"Ms Bradshaw," he responded. "To be honest with you, I wasn't sure I'd see you again. You left so quickly once we hit the station; I thought you'd forgotten about us."

"Forget about the most memorable mission I've had in my career? Fat chance. But that was a little rude of me. I had to check in with my office, submit my official reports, and all that. Unfortunately, my job doesn't end until that's done."

"Fair enough."

"But it's done now. They're giving me two whole days of R&R. Stars, they sure do know how to spoil a girl."

"I'm just heading back to our hotel for a shower, then I'm going to meet up with the rest of the crew for dinner."

"May I walk with you?"

"Be my guest. So do you have big plans for your downtime?"

"Well, I figured I'd make good on taking you and the crew out for a game of layerball."

"That's mighty thoughtful of you. I sent the rest of the crew out for some of their own R&R while I did captainy things."

"Tell me," Nikki said, getting a step closer to him. "What is it about you that drives those women feral? I mean, I get it to a point. You're tall, easy on the eyes, and handle yourself well in a crisis. But I've got to know."

"You know, I've been asking myself the same thing. I'll let you know when I have an answer."

"I'll be honest," Nikki began. "I found it difficult sometimes to keep my professional composure around you all. Don't think I didn't notice how all of you respected that. None of you, especially you, did anything to try recruiting me into your little harem. And it's funny, I found myself feeling a little bit left out."

"Well, truth is, professionalism is important to me."

Nikki laughed, her eyes lighting up.

"I'm serious," Wu said, sounding more defensive than he intended. "My relationship with my crew developed somewhat naturally. I didn't do much to pursue it. Not that I did much to resist either. I guess, for some, that makes me a hypocrite."

"There's something special about you," Nikki said. "Makes a girl curious." She stepped ahead of him as they walked, suddenly turning and walking backward to look at him as they talked. "You know, I heard you that night Lucia came to your room. The walls of your ship are thinner than you may think. It drove me a bit crazy."

Wu suppressed a laugh of disbelief. It seemed Alma had been right to suspect Nikki was interested in him, in them. She hinted that he should make a move on her more than once on their return trip. She turned back around and resumed her pace next to him.

"You know, I think you're very attractive. And I enjoyed having you on my ship. But I have a special relationship with them."

They had arrived back at the hotel. Another thought occurred to him. Despite her saying that she kept her distance out of her sense of propriety, barely a single flirtatious exchange had ever occurred between them. Interest in him could be genuine, but he couldn't help wondering where this was coming from.

As much as he was tempted by having the young woman waiting on the bed while he showered, he resolved that he wouldn't make a move unless the rest of his crew were on board.

He showered quickly, even though water rations were included in the room price, and dressed in his nicest set of clothes. "Nicest" was doing a lot of heavy lifting there, as it was merely a pair of tan pants and a black shirt that didn't have holes.

When he came out of the bathroom, he found Nikki still sitting on the edge of the bed. Unlike when he left her, she was now completely nude. She sat with her legs crossed, leaning back on two hands, and her back arched proudly, putting her breasts on display. She was all smooth dark skin and curves. She was surprisingly fit, or rather, Wu hadn't really been able to size up her physique before this moment because she'd always dressed conservatively on the ship.

"You seem underdressed for dinner," he said.

"Funny, I would say the opposite about you."

They studied each other for a moment, and he realized he felt more uncomfortable than she looked.

"You know your crew told me that they practically had to throw themselves at you. That you were too much of a gentleman to make a presumptive first move."

"Is that what you're doing?"

"You're a smart guy. I am sure you can figure that out."

She stood and walked--no--sauntered toward him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gently pulled him down for a kiss.

She tasted good, and the kiss was passionate. She pushed her body against his, and he could feel her hard nipples through his shirt.

She started backing up as they made out, slowly pulling him toward the bed. She tangled up in him, pulling him on top of her and wrapping one creamy leg around his waist.

He had enough sense to pull back before he did something stupid. As much as he wanted this, he had his crew to think about. He honestly didn't think any of them would mind, but he didn't want to risk it. It was an odd thought, alarming, actually. Wu wasn't just obligated to think of people other than himself, but was surprised by how much he wanted to.

He leaned back. "We're moving too fast. You're gorgeous, but I have my crew to think about."

He knew it was a lame excuse even as he said it.

"Damn," she said.

"Look, come to dinner. It's on us. We'll--"

She struck him suddenly in the chest, just to the left of his sternum. There was something in her hand, but he didn't see it until she pulled her hand away and it was poking out of his skin.

His brain barely processed that it was a syringe before she folded her legs in front of her and kicked him off the bed with both feet.

He went tumbling, hitting the floor with a thud. He yanked at the syringe, pulling it out. It was empty.

"You stupid bastard," she said, standing over him. "I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about."

He tried to talk, but when he spoke, his voice was different. Raspy. "What the hell," was all he could manage. Something was wrong. His skin felt hot. His chest was suddenly burning, and it was harder to breathe than just a few seconds ago. He tried getting to his feet, but Nikki kicked him in the face, knocking him back flat.

"What you're feeling right now is the venom of an Ibrahim Tree Snake. The venom itself isn't particularly poisonous, but in ninety-eight percent of people it causes very sudden and severe anaphylaxis." She laughed. "You should see your face. You really had no idea the people you're dealing with."

She kicked him again, stomping down on his chest, causing him to grunt in pain. He tried grabbing her foot, but she pulled it away before he could.

"We're making an example of you," she said, stepping out of his reach. She dressed almost casually as he struggled on the floor. "After this, no one will sign up for Frederickson's stupid fucking program. No use hunting ships in the dark when that dark can hunt you back. Don't worry, though. We're going to take good care of your crew."

Wu wanted to ask her a hundred questions. Who was she? What was this about? But they sounded whiny even in his mind. And what had she meant by that last part?

He knew. He didn't know how or why. But he knew. It was hard to breathe because now his throat felt like it was spasming. His lungs were on fire, desperately trying to pull in air. He was making a whistling sound when he breathed. He pressed his hands to his face and felt that the familiar geography was very different.

Nikki looked down at him with a cruel smile. "Try your phone. Maybe they'll get to you in time." She waved his handheld in front of him, just out of reach. Then she dropped it and brought her heel down on top of it, crunching it into the plush carpet. "Oops. Never mind. But I doubt they'd get to you in time anyway. So long, Captain Wu."

He tried to get up and go after her, but she was already through the door, shutting it behind her.

Anaphylaxis. Allergic shock. He grunted in pain, but no sound came out. His throat was closing, and it would until he suffocated.

He wasn't all that medically trained, but he'd picked up enough to know he needed epinephrine and antihistamines.

But the human body produced epinephrine, that all-important biochemical. The adrenal glands, tiny pyramids sitting on top of each kidney, stored and released it. During a fight-or-flight response, it would dump a hundred times the amount it normally would.

But that wouldn't be enough to counter anaphylaxis.

He couldn't think about what he had to do. Seeing no other alternative, he reached over to his left hand and snapped his own pinky finger.

The dry snap was like an ice pick up his arm and through his brain.

"Fuuuuck!" he screamed.

The effect hit him like a grav-train. His breathing got easier, sure, but his heart was suddenly pounding in his ears. He looked down at his broken finger, folded backwards and almost touching his wrist, and popped it back into place as he'd been taught. He didn't even feel it.

It was a dirty solution to an impossible problem. The searing pain immediately activated his sympathetic nervous system. The result was dumping massive amounts of stored epinephrine from his enhanced adrenal glands.

They'd been a "gift," along with others, from his time in the military. His adrenal glands, gene-modded and with a cybernetic biochemical regulator, held a catecholamine capacity many times that of a civilian. What he had told Alma and Lucia was true; he didn't have gene-cleaning enhancements or indwelling stim mods. This was much more blunt and a lot less elegant. His adrenal glands were specifically designed to keep soldiers like him in the fight long past the point where injuries would cripple. They were designed to activate upon grievous injury, and he mostly didn't have control over it. There was only one way to activate it manually. The Last Stand, as they called it.

He didn't have long; his body would likely churn through the chemical long before the venom cleared his system, but it bought him some time.

He stood up, legs full of fire, and ran.

***

Two months earlier.

It was time.

Gem Rivas had only been allowed to leave the small storage closet of her cell three times in any given day. Only to use the bathroom and eat meals under guard from the crew. The rest of the time she spent in the two-square-meter closet. There was barely enough space to lie down as most of the space was taken up by her cot.

It wasn't the worst jail cell she could be in. And her jailers were pleasant enough. One of them, the engineer named Rosie, had even given her a simple screen she could use to read and watch media on.

Despite this, despite the latitude they gave their sole prisoner on the Eris-Stratton Station, Gem Rivas hated them.

And she hated herself.

For the first several days she'd swung wildly from rage to grief, then to regret and depression. She burned herself out with such emotions and now felt mostly just numb.

Her husband Lance was dead. Killed by the crew of that stupid ship and its painfully naive crew. But what did that say about them? How stupid they had been to be taken down by such people?

Her husband had been a dreamer. It was, above all, the thing she loved most about him.

He was ambitious, confident, and a hard worker. Often, after making love in the tiny two-room station hole they rented, she would cuddle up in the crook of his arm and rest her head on his chest and listen to his promises. He would talk about the future, how they were saving money, how someday they'd save enough to make it to one of the colony worlds. And not one of the developed ones, with their cities and people, but one of the ones they could really homestead on. A home with free air and few rules. It sounded wonderful despite knowing, deep down in her gut, that it was the wishful thinking of a dreamer. But she'd wanted to believe, hadn't she?

Now he was dead, and she was alone.

She had some idea of what awaited her. There would be a trial and a sentencing, and she would be saddled with a contract of indentureship. She would likely spend years working on one of several penal stations. If she were lucky, and she might be due to her gender and relative youth, she'd be sent to one of the newer colonies. The ones without infrastructure, unexplored, dangerous. She would be part of the vanguard that would tame such a place, and no doubt that would involve getting remarried and having children should she survive. All well and good, but she'd be banned from ever leaving. A system like this had been set up back in the ancient days of Earth's past, involving someplace named Australia. It was an ironic twist that she might still achieve Lance's dream after all.

She felt the station spin down.

Slowly, gravity left, and she floated in the middle of her tiny jail cell. She was anxious, nervous, but more than anything wanted to just get this over with.

The minutes ticked by one by one. Painfully slow. She knew at any moment her door would open and she would be escorted onto a new ship, likely to be brought directly to her final destination, her trial being performed during transport.

There was a quick barrage of sharp noise, then a deeper baritone retort that made the walls shake. She didn't know what to make of that, and, since it passed so quickly, she began to doubt that she heard anything at all. Isolation will eventually cause hallucinations. Is that how they began?

Silence now.

She pushed herself to the door, floating next to it, and put her ear close, trying to discern something. She thought she heard voices, maybe even shouting, but it was too muffled to make out words.

When the door opened, Gem was immediately apprehensive of the man filling the doorway.

He was tall and thin, a clear sign he was a spacer, but he also had the boyish good looks of youth tempered by wise blue eyes that ought to have belonged to a much older man. Most surprising was that he wore the muted yellow jumpsuit of a tradesman rather than the navy blue or steel grey of the military.

"Are you Gem Rivas?"

She nodded.

"Come with me. You're being rescued."

She didn't move. "Who are you?"

"Your employer. That is, until you and your husband screwed up your little mission for us. So, former employer, I guess? It's still up in the air. Come on."

"What do you want with me?" she asked, not moving. She had curled up in the top corner of the little room, coiling her body like a spring and getting ready to fight if she had to.

The man sighed in annoyance. "What I want is for you to come with me and board my ship so we can leave this station before anyone gets wind that we were here. You get the opportunity for freedom. That probably beats being extradited and tried for piracy, yes?"

"Fuck you. No deal. Since I failed, as you so bluntly put it, you have no reason to just kill me. Opportunity for freedom? Thanks, but no thanks. I have nothing you want."

"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already. And you're wrong; you do have something I want. By providing it, you are more valuable to us alive."

"And what is that?"

"You know, I could just come in there and yank you out. There's nowhere to run. We have the station. We had to deal with the crew but..." He made a motion with his hands as if to say, 'What can you do?'

Gem glared at him. "You've already decided it would be easier if I cooperated. So tell me who you are and what you want with me."

He sighed again, but Gem suspected it was mostly for show. Those blue eyes never left hers. "My name is Chenango Cole, and I want to know everything you know about Captain Erwin Wu."

The name revitalized the same impotent rage she'd felt when she was first imprisoned in this room. It was his fault she was here while her husband wasn't. How many hours had she spent fantasizing about taking revenge against him and his crew? He was clearly a landy playing make-believe. A wannabe who got lucky. Again, what did that say about her? And her husband? An easy payday spoiled by a no-name captain of a transport ship.

"Why do you want to know?"

"We--your employer--want to send a message. We're going to make an example out of this wayward captain and his crew."

"You're going to kill him?"

Chenango nodded.

He stepped aside the door, gesturing to her to come out. She did, hesitantly following him to the hexagonal main living area of the station. Several of Chenango's people were there, but her eyes immediately found the floating body of Lieutenant McFarland. There was a red stain in the center of her otherwise white tank top, small droplets of blood hanging nearby. Gem thought she looked almost peaceful with her halo of floating silver hair.

There was a scream nearby followed by laughing. The blue form of Nixie shot around the corner of the opposite hallway, pushing herself off the wall with her legs and launching her body like a spear. Another man turned the corner just as she kicked away, launching himself after her. She was naked--she was always naked-- and her large blue breasts rippled from the reverberated motion.

Gem wasn't sure where the skin-dyed slut scientist thought she was going to escape to, given the relative size of the station. She watched with amusement as two of Chenango's people launched themselves at her in a perpendicular intercept course. They collided with her from opposite sides, sending all three of them spinning and bouncing chaotically until the guy pursuing Nixie hit the whole group and sent them tumbling forward. Nixie was screaming and struggling while the three men just laughed at her as they skillfully worked to restrain her.

"I take it she's not getting the same deal I am?"

Chenango shook his head. "Does that bother you?"

"The dumb slut helped Wu kill my husband. I imagine the only thing she can tell you is how his cock tastes."

That got a wry smile out of Chenango. The two watched as the men finished restraining Nixie, binding her arms and legs and then finally gagging her.

"Well done, men," Chenango announced to his crew. The half-dozen assembled men rotated to listen to him. Gem immediately realized that Chenango was someone who commanded a great deal of respect. "We got what we came here for. This is Gem Rivas." He put a hand on her shoulder. "No one is to touch her. Those are Garrett's orders and mine. That said, consider the blue bitch your bonus for a job well done. Make sure she enjoys the trip back home."

There was a smattering of cheers, jeers, and chuckles from the assembled men as they moved the restrained woman toward the airlock. It was very evident to Gem how Nixie would be spending the return flight. Gem followed Chenango out of the habitat side of the dumbbell station, down the long corridor toward the docking airlock. The mystery of what happened to Rosie was solved. Her body floated end over end near the airlock entrance, a stubby rifle hanging nearby. One of Chenango's men grabbed it as he passed, paying the body no mind. Gem felt a pang of regret upon seeing Rosie. Of the three, she'd been the nicest to her. However, this was possibly a better fate than what Nixie would experience.

"Does a similar fate await me?" Gem asked her rescuer, motioning between the still form of Rosie and the naked scientist, who renewed her struggle upon seeing her friend.

"For you? No. You're one of us despite your failure. I know you may not have known much about us when you started taking our jobs, but we're not a bunch of anarchist psychopaths. Killian Garrett is building something new. Something different."

"Forgive me if this sounds rude, but aren't you guys just pirates?"

Chenango smiled. "Yes. I suppose we are. But we're going to be so much more."

***

Wu awoke with a start. It was as if he'd been drifting off and caught himself right before sleep took hold.

That, of course, wasn't the case, as he was in a sterile room in the station infirmary.

"Stars dammit," he muttered, trying to take stock of his situation.

He wasn't in an auto doc but rather in a completely standard, if uncomfortable, hospital bed. There was an IV connected to his arm and a nasal cannula hanging around his face. He sat up, groaning, and tried to remove the cannula from his nose. His left hand was bandaged.

A nurse walked in, pulling the curtain divider as she did. When she saw him awake and sitting up, her eyes went wide.

"Sir, um, just relax. You're okay."

"How long have I been here?" His mouth felt like it was coated in sand, and his voice sounded like a growl.

"You were pretty sick when they brought you in. You--"

"How long?" This time there was an edge to his voice that the poor nurse probably didn't deserve.

"About eighteen hours."

Her answer hit him like a meteor.

He almost repeated it back to her but started to get to his feet instead.

"Where are my clothes?"

"I'll just go tell the doctor you're feeling better."

She backed her way through the curtain, as if she were afraid he'd attack her if her back was turned.

What followed was several minutes where he attempted to unhook himself from everything, then stand, then find his clothes to get out of the hospital gown that left his ass hanging in the wind.

His whole body hurt, and his skin felt oddly too tight. It bothered him that his crew wasn't here, but paradoxically grateful they weren't witnessing him fumbling around with his pants. They either didn't know or... Something happened. He remembered bits and pieces of Nikki attacking him. She'd said his crew would be "taken care of."

The curtain moved again, making him momentarily hopeful, but of anyone he wanted to see, Lieutenant Yuri Chavez wasn't it.

"Is Nikki Bradshaw still on this station?" Wu asked without preamble.

The expression on the lieutenant's face told him everything he needed to know. He shook his head slowly.

"Does my crew know? Where are they?"

"There was an attack," Chavez said slowly. "Witnesses say three women were abducted from the Raffi Market. Planet side, they'd call it an attack in broad daylight."

"What do you mean abducted? By who?"

"Near as we can tell, the same group Bradshaw was working for. Pirates. Slavers. Whatever you want to call them. Seems they were more organized than we thought. Good news, if it can be called that, is that one of your ladies managed to shoot one of the attackers and kill him. One, Denton Biggs. He's listed as a crew member for a gas hauler named the Charles Boyle. Same ship we believe absconded with your crew."

"Where?"

"That we don't know. We're running down the list of his known associates. His Plink is a bit of a mess but nothing that suggests he was anything other than a working stiff."

Searing rage burned through Wu's body for an instant. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch something. Wu wanted to direct that rage at the officer. How could they let something like this happen on this station? What kind of chicken-shit security did they have? Wu wanted to grab the lieutenant by the lapels and shake him until the answers tumbled out of him.

But he knew that would do no good. The fact of him being here, in person, was an apology of sorts. A recognition they'd fucked up. Wu struggled to get control of his emotions, but get control of them he did.

"Look," the lieutenant began. "This is serious shit. More than just simple piracy. The CDF is getting involved. They're assembling a task force to hunt this group down."

"Yeah? Too bad they don't even know where they are."

"I'm asking you, as politely as I can, to stand down. Don't do anything rash. We're working on it."

Wu glared at the lieutenant until the younger man looked away. "I'm going to pretend like I didn't hear you say that. Because I've never struck an officer, and I'd rather not start now. I'm going to do what Frederickson tasked me with. Your little task force can fucking race me."

An eighteen-hour head start didn't seem like a lot when dealing with the incomprehensible hugeness of space, but it was long enough that, unless he had detailed flight data on their course, he wouldn't be able to follow them or catch up to them easily. The only option then was to find out their destination and burn like hell to get there. That meant every hour he spent on station was an hour he'd have to make up. He had a lot of things to do and no time to do them.

His first stop was the repair docks.

The area around his ship bustled with activity as techs worked on his ship. Two techs entered through an airlock that was located on a narrow catwalk above, clearly having just done exterior work. He didn't see Faye Sanchez, so he walked onto his ship.

"Iana, we have a big problem," he announced when he reached the bridge.

"Captain! You didn't die!" her voice chimed from the intercom. It seemed to come from the ship itself. "Those bastards wouldn't tell me anything about what happened. They only said you'd been attacked and were recovering."

He explained the whole situation to her. He explained how Nikki attacked him and how the rest of the crew were kidnapped.

He finished, then asked, "Can you hack into the station cameras? Maybe we can ID these guys and work from there?"

"No can do," Iana said. "The station has pretty hefty firewalls specifically designed to stop my kind from causing a ruckus. The station actually has an AI like myself, so while you were talking, I put in a request for just that."

"And?"

"And she's being an officious twat about it. Talking about clearances and sensitive information, blah blah blah. She was quite rude."

"Fuck. That would have been too easy. I guess I'm going old school."

"Captain Erwin?" a voice called out.

Faye Sanchez came up from the central ladder, holding a box in one arm.

"Hey," she said with a mournful expression. "Station security just dropped this off for me to put on your ship. They said it was some shopping bags your crew dropped when it, um, happened."

She put the simple plastic tote down in front of her as if it physically pained her to keep holding it. "Sorry to hear what happened. The whole station is in a tizzy about it. I guess I never thought something like that could happen here. Your crew seemed like good folk."

He nodded in thanks. He generally wasn't too keen to receive words of sympathy, but there was something about the technician's earnestness that gave him pause.

"Well, you should know I intend to do something about it."

"Like what?" Faye looked at him, confused. "They're off station, at least that's what the security folks say. Do you know where they went?"

"No. But I intend to find out. If I do, how fast can you get this ship in fighting condition?"

"Well, as I said before, it's not exactly a small job. When I couldn't get a hold of you, I talked to Iana, and she gave me the go-ahead to start working. We've made some progress, but it's going to take a few days at least."

He stopped to think for a moment. It was hard to plan for a fight if he didn't know what kind of fight it would be. If these pirates were taking the girls to some planet or moon, that would be a different operation than if they were on a station floating somewhere in the black.

"Is the airlock fixed?"

Faye shook her head. "Took us most of the day just to pull it open. I see why you did what you did, welding the airlock of that corvette to the hole in the side of your ship, but you did almost too good a job." She gave a humorless chuckle at her own joke.

"All right. Here's what I want you guys to do. As soon as I figure out a destination, I'm gone. I'm going to burn as hard as I can for as long as I can. If it makes your job easier and faster, I want you to just seal up the hole where that airlock used to be. We can go back and fix it later. I want you to take the shuttle off the other side and park it somewhere. Then I want you to attach the corvette to the good airlock. Can you do that in the next few hours?"

Faye thought for a moment, perhaps wondering if he was serious. "I can. Work will be kind of slap-dash, and you're not going to have a ton of armor where we seal the hole, but yeah, I can make that happen. But there's other things too. There's that whole other hole you have in one of the crew rooms. We haven't even started on that."

"That's why I'd like to bring you with me."

"What do you mean?"

"Even at a hard burn, you'll have time to repair on the move."

"To go hunt these kidnappers?"

"If you're thinking it's too dangerous, you're right. It's going to be dangerous, and there's probably going to be some shooting involved. But I'll pay triple your rate to have a skilled mechanic who can keep me flying."

"Triple pay? Dying ain't worth that."

"Is there someone better I should be asking?"

Faye looked offended. "You ain't going to find someone better than me. I just don't think my life is worth me showing you that."

"Well, then. I understand. Send me somebody that it is worth it to."

They held each other's gaze for several seconds. It wasn't exactly a stare-down, more like she was studying his face, studying if he was on the level.

She darted her eyes away, then said, "I better get to those repairs."

With that, she left, leaving him alone on the bridge.

Wu looked down at the box in front of him. First, he was going to ignore it, then simply pick it up and put it somewhere, but he let curiosity get the better of him.

He lifted the lid off the box, and sure enough, there were shopping bags inside. One for each of the girls. He opened each one, casually inspecting the contents. It was clothes, mostly.

He had to smirk at their choices. He wasn't attuned to women's fashion, but it struck him that these clothes were skimpier, more revealing than what they usually wore. There were several sets of lingerie and a black harness-like thing he couldn't make heads or tails of. He guessed that it belonged to Lucia. There was one other item that caught his attention, at the bottom of what he presumed was her bag.

It was her phone.

***

Instead of going through the painstaking process of looking through Lucia's phone himself, he'd simply asked Iana to do it for him.

She accessed the phone and pulled all the data off it.

"Ooo," she announced. "Do you want to read her diary? There's some good stuff in here."

"Is there anything we can use?"

"Actually. Maybe. Take a look."

Iana put a video on his screen, taken at the moment of the attack. It was chaotic, shaky, and long. For the important parts, it was only about four seconds, but the recording program didn't turn off for about two hours.

It showed a view of the open boulevard and caught a glimpse of Alma right as someone grabbed her. Then the camera swung, showing another guy coming right at Lucia. There was a short fight, all grunting and scrambling, then the phone fell, or rather, was dropped. The image stopped, momentarily looking at the cloudy blue sky of the station before landing inside Lucia's shopping bag. Sounds of the fight continued for several more seconds. There was the unmistakable sound of gunfire, four quick shots, more grunting, and then silence.

At first, he was confused about what Lucia was trying to do, holding the phone out while actively being attacked. Then he thought about it for a quick moment and realized what her logic probably was. The way Lucia thought was different than almost anybody he'd met. And she thought fast. Also, she wasn't as adept at fighting as Alma and certainly not Theo. When she realized they'd been surrounded, she took out her phone and recorded the incident, making sure to drop it for someone to find.

Using the screen at his console, he slowed down the footage and took it frame by frame. For just a moment, one of the attackers was framed perfectly.

He was a spacer, likely in his mid-20s, with both sides of his head shaved in an old-school mohawk. A crescent-shaped tattoo half-circled one eye, and his mouth was upturned in a sneer. Wu didn't know what the tattoo meant; spacers had a tendency to mark up their bodies in weird ways. But he recognized both the haircut and the tattoo. Together, they were unique and kind of strange.

Erwin Wu had seen him before.

He was a member of the crew that unloaded the star eels from his ship.

He worked for Sy Lee.

"Clever girl."

***

Although it was called the Solar Club, it was less a nightclub than a dingy bar with a small dance floor and an even smaller stage. It lay in the Ice House district of the inner ring and was frequented by the local spacers and the occasional tourist looking for little danger in their nightlife.

Station security knew about Sy Lee's operations here but generally left her alone. What little bit of violent crime happened here was mostly dealt with by her. She understood how tenuous her position was and took pains to keep the club's illicit activity to a low, safe, and profitable level.

Like most crime bosses, she didn't think of herself as such. She was a businesswoman, a distributor. She had stakes in multiple businesses around the station, including a massage parlor, several restaurants, and this club. In fact, if she nailed down the numbers, over 80% of her dealings were legitimate. The remaining 20% was as innocuous as crime could be.

But low-level didn't mean without risk. That was what the last several hours had proven.

The club was mostly empty. Sy and her people took up the large table in the back. The only other people in the club were the bartender, a couple of regulars, and one sad-looking dancer swaying lazily around the pole of the small stage.

Sy Lee sat with her people. It would be a stretch to call them her lieutenants or even her fellow shareholders. They were merely the privileged few she paid to keep an eye on her business interests. They mostly acted as managers at the club or the massage parlor. One was the line cook at a noodle house she owned who kept an eye on the other owner for her.

Right now they were discussing what to do about the sloppy kidnapping job that took place in their backyard.

Apparently, a couple of the toughs that participated in that travesty were people associated with her, including the guy who got himself gut shot.

Sy Lee hadn't sanctioned or even known about the kidnapping. She wasn't sure which pissed her off more. Her people, the ones she paid, ought to be able to warn her when something like this was going to happen. Even if she couldn't stop it, or get her cut, it would at least allow her to be proactive and not having to do damage control like she was right now.

"I advocate for a wait-and-see approach," Johnny Chou said. "Denton was a loser. I know he did some work for you and he couldn't hack it. You sent him to me, and I couldn't even get him to clean a kitchen properly. He was never given any real responsibility, and I don't see how that comes back to you."

The rest of the table nodded, but Sy Lee kept still. "And the other one? TJ? He did a little bit more than working the kitchens."

"Off station," Gabe Flowers said. Despite the name, he was probably the meanest and toughest of her lieutenants. He spent most of his time acting as the lead bouncer at her various businesses. If she had an enforcer, it was Flowers. He continued, "We think he left with the rest of the crew. Probably trying to duck security till the heat's off. Or you."

"Or you," Johnny retorted. "Doesn't want a run-in with your five-finger bouquet."

Flowers cracked a grin at Johnny's wordplay. "It'd be more than five fingers, I'll tell you that."

"And what of the others?" Sy asked, puffing on her vape. "There were apparently six, all told."

"No one we know," Mabel said, sounding bored. She mostly managed the "talent" for the club and the massage parlor. She was attractive in the distinguished way beautiful women often become as they age. She sipped on a fizzy drink, letting the pause fill the space. "Best we can tell, this was a team of four that recruited a couple of locals to help with the job. It seems this outfit has a talent for recruiting locals to be their eyes and ears. My birdies tell me several of the dock workers have taken to marking cargo for seizure by this group. Smash-and-grab theft has graduated to public kidnapping."

"And you're just telling this to us now?" Blake Handel asked, indignation evident. He was the shortest and roundest of the group, but what he lacked in physicality he made up for in shrewdness. He managed the Solar Club, squeezing out profits from the ill-placed establishment week after week.

"My birdies are plenty forthcoming when we ask the right questions. They don't appraise me of every two-bit hustle going on in the station."

"It's not so two-bit anymore," Flowers said, but she waved her hand at him dismissively.

As a group, they all turned to look at the man entering the club. The other four did not recognize him, but Sy Lee did.

Sy huffed, realizing the conversation that was about to be had. His timing couldn't have been worse. They spent so much time discussing who the kidnappers were, they hadn't discussed who their targets were or what was significant about them. As soon as she saw the bedraggled freighter captain, she understood just who the three pretty women taken in the very public kidnapping were. She had thought she recognized at least one of the pictures from the reports but frankly hadn't put it together.

"Let me handle this," she said to the group as the man spotted her from across the club and made a beeline for their table.

"Captain Wu," she said, raising her tumbler in greeting. "To what do I owe this visit?"

"I imagine you heard about what happened to my crew."

Sy Lee thought about playing coy with the freighter captain. Her measure of him was that he was a wet-behind-the-ears haulerman. A little naive, and not someone she'd normally think twice about. He'd come through for her with a freight of star eels but, other than that, she hadn't had dealings with him.

But coy wasn't really her style. Besides, there was something about the captain that gave her pause. He appeared relaxed, whether because of confidence or just simple ignorance about the group he stood before, she wasn't sure.

"The whole station knows," Sy admitted. "Terrible thing. You have my condolences."

Sy waited. She waited for the ask. This captain came to her because he wanted something. It would do no good to assume what that was, and asking him would only sour any negotiation before it started. So she waited for the ask.

Wu reached into his jacket pocket, and Flowers reached behind his back, hand touching his pistol. When Wu removed his handheld, he relaxed.

"Do you know this man?" Wu asked, handing her the phone.

On it was a still image of TJ. Flashy fucking TJ. Unlike Denton Biggs, that fucking kid had done a lot of work around her little kingdom. He should fucking know better than to get mixed up with another outfit without coming to her first. If he ever showed his face around this station...

"He's a skag. Did some work for me around the docks. I'm afraid I don't have much to tell you about him."

"How about a name? And his destination?"

"Hmm," Sy Lee pretended to think. "Names can be expensive. Locations even more so."

The captain sighed. "You're trying to negotiate with me." A statement. He didn't seem surprised.

She wasn't planning on raking him over the coals exactly, but it was clear these bits of information were important to him, and she learned long ago never to let anything go for free.

"Simple trade is all," she said, matter-of-factly. "Worth something to you, I imagine."

The captain sighed again, clearly unhappy at this. Despite clearly being a landy, he should have known how such things worked on stations.

"Alright," he said, "allow me to make an opening offer."

The captain moved so fast it took her a moment to realize what happened. There was a loud noise and, next to her, Blake shoved himself away from the table. Johnny Chou cursed and put his hands up, shielding his face. Mabel, to her credit, didn't flinch.

The captain was pointing a pistol at Sy's head.

It took another moment for her to realize she hadn't been shot. Next to her, Flowers slumped forward, head clunking to the table, a smoking red hole where his left eye should have been.

Sy Lee turned back to the captain, all possible words caught in her throat.

When he spoke again, his voice was lower, dangerous.

"The floor is yours if you'd like to make a counter."

***

Lucia opened her eyes to a drab gray bulkhead wall. Her head throbbed like the morning after she first tried vodka and an undergrad dorm party. There was no associated nausea, which she was thankful for.

She tried to look around and realized she was looking at the ceiling. She was lying back in what appeared to be the crash couch.

It wasn't very nice.

How had she gotten here? She tried searching her memory, but that proved difficult. The throbbing in her head made it hard to think about anything.

She tried to sit up but couldn't. Of course, she was strapped into the chair. She could see the buckle snug between her breasts. She reached for it, and found she couldn't move her arms. They too were strapped down, as were her legs.

She was confused at first, then icy panic gripped her, and she felt the almost animalistic urge to freak the fuck out. She was compelled to struggle against her restraints.

Her mind flashed to the night she spent with her captain, tied up. Was this his doing? That didn't seem right. And she knew on an instinctual level it was uncharacteristic of him. This didn't feel safe. She didn't feel safe. And she always felt safe around him.

Struggling would get her nowhere. She had to think, and in order to think, she had to not panic. The captain wouldn't panic in this situation. Neither would Theo. They were tough both physically and mentally. She wasn't like either of them in that regard. But maybe she could pretend.

Where were they? More importantly, where was she?

She couldn't turn her head around enough to see what was behind her, but next to her was a row of empty crash couches. Four more besides the one she was in. The room was otherwise nondescript, but she'd been in something similar. This was an acceleration room. An XL, as most people called them. Many ships had them, especially those with large crews. With maneuvers at high delta-V being extremely dangerous, and crew space on the bridge limited, many ships had emergency XL rooms for crew that didn't have an otherwise designated crash couch.

Setups like this were common on jumper shuttles that ferried travelers between a planet and their moons or stations. But usually they weren't enclosed in their own room as this one was.

This was annoying her. She could remember what the jumper shuttles she'd been on looked like but couldn't remember how she wound up here. Her last memories were of being aboard the Hornigold but... No, that wasn't right either. They had reached their destination. They'd arrived at Port Ever Evening and... had gone shopping? That last part hit her as a question. She wasn't sure.

Anything after that was a complete mystery.

She heard the unmistakable click and whoosh as an airtight door opened behind her right shoulder. She was momentarily paralyzed by indecision. Her first instinct was to call out, demanding answers from whoever was behind her, but a smaller part, more rational perhaps, told her to stay still, pretend to be sleeping or unconscious. That part won out at least until the man stepped in front of her crash couch and she could see him. Well, she couldn't quite see him, just what he was carrying. Draped over his shoulder was the unconscious body of Alma. Any thought of staying silent, of pretending to be asleep, left her immediately.

"What did you do to her?" she demanded, her voice surprisingly loud in the small XL room.

"Same thing we did to you, love," the man said, unsurprised that she was awake. With all the grace of stacking a pallet of supplies, he dumped Alma's limp form on the crash couch next to Lucia. She didn't so much as stir.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Even to her own ears, that sounded weak and pleading rather than the hostile demand she meant it as.

The man just chuckled and began securing Alma to the crash couch in the same manner Lucia was.

He was a grim-faced man with a humorless smile. He might have been in his 20s, but he looked well past his thirties. Lucia found it hard to accurately guess the ages of spacers.

They either looked much older or much younger than what their actual age would suggest. Depending on the sorts of jobs they held on stations and whatnot. This guy didn't look like he'd spent years away from skin-damaging UV radiation but rather had the sunken eyes and hard expression of someone who labored. He had a half-crescent tattoo around his left eye.

"Name's TJ, love," the man said. "I guess I'm to be your chaperone for this pleasure cruise we're embarking on."

Pleasure Cruise? What in Seven Stars was he talking about?

There was more movement behind her. Two more men entered the room carrying Theo between them. The bald man carrying her legs had to walk backwards past TJ, and they placed the larger woman in the crash couch on the other side of Alma.

"This one awake, then?" one of them asked TJ, no doubt referring to Lucia.

"She is. Confused, poor thing," TJ replied. "And frightened as a rabbit, I suspect."

The other two men grunted but didn't say anything further, instead focusing on securing Theo to her crash couch.

"Is this the bitch that killed your compadre?" One of the men sneered at TJ.

"I believe it is," TJ replied, regarding the still form of Theo. "We weren't exactly brothers, but he was nice enough to bring me in on this job. Still, blood for blood and all that. I'll get my recompense by making the bitch scream."

The two men nodded thoughtfully as if that was a totally normal way of doing things. Lucia had to stop and consider what had just been said. Theo killed a guy? When did that happen?

She was stopped from venturing too far down that train of thought as she was surrounded on three sides by the men who had apparently taken an interest in her because she was awake.

"Are we prisoners then?" Lucia demanded.

"You could say that," the bald man said. "That's close enough."

TJ stroked his chin thoughtfully. "It's closer to indentured servitude, but even that doesn't quite hit the mark." He snapped his fingers as if having a sudden idea. "I got it. Fuck meat."

"What?"

"That's the most accurate term for what your situation is. You are now fuck meat. You're going to be fucked so much and so often that you're going to forget anything you thought you were before. We're going to break you, and then we're going to sell you." TJ reached down and squeezed her breast hard through her clothing. Lucia tried to resist, wincing, but failed. "Welcome to slavery, bitch."

"Remove your hand from the merchandise," another voice called.

TJ yanked his hand away as if burned and looked up at the woman as she entered.

Nikki walked in front of her and Lucia sighed in relief.

"Nikki!" she shouted, "Thank the stars, I'm glad to see you--"

Nikki slapped her across the face before she could finish the sentence.

Lucia's head rocked to the side, sending stars dancing across her vision. Oddly enough, it fixed her headache for one glorious moment until the throbbing doubled in its return.

"I hope I have disabused you of any assumptions about our current relationship," Nikki said. "This scag is a brute, but he is not entirely incorrect. You three are a gift. A blood debt owed to my boss. Perhaps he'll kill you. Perhaps he'll use you up for a little while until he tires and lets you be passed around the crew. Perhaps he'll simply sell you. That's not for me to decide." She turned to the other spacer pirates and spoke as much to them as to Lucia. "In the meantime, no harm will come to you. It would be rude to open and play with a gift intended for somebody else."

The three men looked reasonably cowed.

Nikki looked Lucia up and down, trying to gauge her reaction.

"Have I made myself clear?"

"What? No. Of course you haven't made yourself clear. What are you doing here? Why are you helping them? More importantly, why would you do this to us? We're friends! You're part of our crew!"

Lucia flipped through emotions like pages in a book so fast that they jumbled together. Fear, rage, indignation, and confusion all intertwined.

Nikki just looked down at her, a small smile cracking her face. She was enjoying seeing Lucia like this. She didn't answer, content to let her stew in her impotent mess of emotions.

Lucia took a deep breath. "Where is the captain?"

Lucia thought that she wouldn't answer this either, but Nikki spoke plainly.

"I'm afraid the good captain won't be joining us. He's been taken care of."

Something about how she said that immediately bothered Lucia.

"You watched him die?"

There was a flicker to her expression. Her gaze swept over the unconscious women before returning to Lucia. "Of course. Your beloved hero of a captain is dead."

Lucia laughed.

It came out of nowhere, surprising even her.

She's been so worried, so scared. But the realization struck her as so absurdly funny that laughter just bubbled out of her.

Nikki's expression soured. She was clearly not in on the joke.

"I'm glad you find this whole thing amusing. But I don't think you'll be laughing when we arrive at our destination."

Lucia had to slow her own laughter to speak. "Oh, you had me worried there. But you're a terrible liar. You didn't actually see him die. And if I have learned anything about the captain, it's that he is really hard to kill. You people are fucked."

"Dead or not," the bald spacer said, "it don't matter. He'll never find you."

That sent Lucia into another fit of laughter. "Do you know what he was doing during the war? He was R&D. Ring a bell?"

The three spacers looked at each other and then at Nikki; their confusion plain.

"You know, retrieve and deliver? Alma had to explain it to me because I had only heard some stories. They were the guys that boarded alien ships to steal technology. You know, the big scary Banshee? These guys would literally do insertion missions onto their ships and stations and wreak havoc, retrieving key pieces of their tech and delivering it to human scientists. They're the reason we won the war. They're more dangerous than the Death Divers! And you picked a fight with one!"

Nikki scoffed. "He's tough, but he's not invincible."

"Are you kidding me? You saw him in action on Ymir. You were with us when Decius Morn tried to kidnap Theo. Where do you think he learned how to do all of that?"

"What the hell is she on about?" TJ asked Nikki.

"Our little captive here is quite smitten with her captain. She's holding on to any little branch of hope she can. No matter how unrealistic."

Lucia chuckled again. "If he's alive and he has the Hornigold, you are all going to die."

***

Wu entered the Hornigold, walking briskly. The cargo hold was less chaotic than his last visit. A few pallets of supplies had been delivered courtesy of arrangements made by Iana. A pair of workers looked like they were putting the final touches on shoring up the hole where the damaged airlock used to be.

"Iana, we have their destination. Plot the fastest course for the Evans-Gill system. There's a defunct mining station there called Azar Station. That's the center of their whole operation."

"Got it," her voice came from the intercom. "Wow, that's a bit out of the way, isn't it?"

"How long?"

"Only a couple of weeks, but it's a spoke system. Only one way in or out. There was never much going on there, just the one station and an abandoned colony on a nearby moon. Huh, that's odd..."

"What is?"

"Apparently the station was deorbited a few years ago. It's still listed in the public archival records, but that's it. No active records, at least with what I can access from here."

"This group was able to get an actual spy into the Consortium bureaucracy here. And recruit people like the Rivas' to do their dirty work. Hiding a station doesn't seem like a big ask for these guys."

"You think it's an honest-to-stars ghost station?"

"Sy Lee knew of it. She'd had dealings with people from there. They apparently pay the local dockworkers for knowledge of the comings and goings of certain valuable targets. And they pay well."

"You didn't kill her, did you? Sort of defeats the purpose of repeat business."

"I was tempted, but no. Doesn't matter, it was kind of a contentious negotiation."

"I bet."

Wu changed the subject. "If Evans-Gill is a spoke system, that means only one jump gate in or out. Easy to defend. That's going to be rough."

"Perhaps not as bad as you think. So far, the ships we know these pirates use are repurposed freighters and gas haulers. Sure they attach point defense guns and maybe a torpedo tube or two, but I doubt they have anything close to the firepower we do."

"Maybe so, but all it would take is one well-placed torpedo to ruin our day. Besides, if I were them, I would keep my strongest ships to defend the base."

"You think we'll be swarmed?"

"I think they'll try. But they think I'm dead. They won't be expecting us. But I have a plan. Any progress on repairs?"

"Actually, yes. That segues nicely with my own bit of good news. Two bits actually."

"All right. What's the first?"

"The first is me."

Wu turned to see Faye Sanchez approaching from the entrance. She was in a clean uniform and carrying a large duffle bag.

"I've thought about what you said and decided to take you up on that offer."

Wu nodded. "Why'd you change your mind?"

"Pirates killed my da when I was just a girl. Never proven, of course. He crewed food transport for a solar farm out by Eridani. And one day he just didn't come home. Salvagers found his ship, pieces at least, and said his drive lost containment. Just a pop in the black. Ma believed it, but I never did. It was something he'd been worried about, you see. I overheard ma tell him to quit if the company didn't pony up coin for a security escort. He even agreed, was looking for another contract, but he still had runs to do and... Look, I'm not doing it for the money. I'm helping you because I couldn't stop thinking about other little girls whose fathers might not come home one day. But you have to promise me something."

"Name it."

"I asked around about you. I was told you're not just some bloke doing transports. You fought in the war. Special operations. R&D. That right?"

Wu nodded.

"Then promise me we're not just going to save your crew. Promise me that we're going to kill them all."

Wu took a step toward the mechanic and looked her in the eye. "Every. Last. One."

"Fine then. Let's get to it. Captain."

"Welcome aboard the Hornigold." Wu held out his hand. Faye took it and shook. She was a professional. He had a good feeling about her.

"Iana? What was the other bit of good news?"

"Nothing much. Perhaps you noticed the crates in the cargo hold?"

"I did. Looks like we're well stocked with supplies."

"Well, two of the crates contain my bodies."

"What do you mean 'bodies'? Plural?"

"Yes. When I became aware of our situation, I adjusted my order with our friend Rosie."

There was a clanking behind him as one of the crates opened with a metallic hiss. What stepped out wasn't the sleek, custom-job Diplomat model he'd discussed with the roboticist but rather a hulking, armored monstrosity. Instead of a face, it had a helmet similar to a knight from the High Middle Ages. The plates on its chest, arms, and shoulders were flat and angled in such a way as to easily deflect projectiles. The intimidation factor was immediately apparent. Wu didn't think he had any weapons that could scratch this thing.

"What the fuck is that?" Faye asked, stepping back.

Iana's cheery voice came from the monstrous robot: "It's a Templar Model XFD! Isn't it cute? I'm going to kill so many pirates with it!"

Thanks for reading! As always, I appreciate the feedback (and love) ya'll are giving. I love hearing your thoughts on this little project of mine.

By the way, I realized about halfway through writing this that I already made characters named Faye and Rosie (they were the other crew on the Eris-Stratton Station). Apparently, I only have enough neurons to think of about six names at any given time. Since Faye, the mechanic, and Rosie, the robocist, were both mentioned in the previous episode, I thought it would be too clunky to change them now. Sorry for any confusion, but understand that the previous Faye and Rosie are both dead now, so it shouldn't cause too much of an issue going forward.

Please leave some hearts and stars on your way back to the real world and drop a comment if you're so inclined. And join me next time for another exciting episode of Horny Gold!

Exes and ohs,

Dakota