Fini

"And it was while under the influence of illegal narcotic... excuse me, hallucinogenic drugs that you engaged in acts of moral turpitude with a junior crew member, a Lieutenant Vysuthe Terellia. Is that correct?" Admiral Wilton asked.

This was, without a doubt, the most humiliating event in Riley's life. She'd been paraded naked for a month aboard a pirate ship, forced to do so many debasing carnal things, made to enjoy them, and was shamed in front of her crew. She was fully clothed, came willingly, and had been free to give her accounts of the events that had transpired, the loss of her ship and enslavement of her crew, also their escape. Even in that freedom to wear and communicate, she felt more shamed than she ever had at Zed's mercy.

She wanted to explain that she'd been under the influence in order to test an escape plan, that the incident had been accidental, that, that, that... Then she realized this point had nothing to do with the larger narrative that pirates were operating freely in the backwaters of Federated space.

She stared down the rectangular conference table, older men and women stared back at her. Some were dressed in Federation uniforms, Admirals, and Generals, while others wore civilian business attire. So far, the civilians had not asked any questions, content to exchange knowing glances.

"Yes, sir... But this doesn't seem to address the larger issue of why raiders are so deep inside..."

She was cut off, "Thank you for answering the question, captain. I just wanted to be sure that I understood the context of your liaisons and possible harassment of a junior officer."

"Harassment? Those things inside us made us..."

Another admiral cut her off, "You have to admit, captain, that even under duress, there are minimum standards of decorum expected in the behavior of Federation officers."

"Well, of course, but..."

"And in light of the various allegations that the surviving crew reported in their de-briefings..."

Riley was the one interrupting this time. "Allegations? I saw their reports. They documented everything truthfully. I didn't see any allegations."

The men and women around the table gave each other glances. Riley blushed. She knew exactly what was in the hundreds of pages the four rescued from the lifeboat had reported. Details of every degradation, assault, and humiliation. A month of time at the hands of captors with no rescue by the Federation. Her crew instead had to make their own escape, losing two in the process.

A corpulent man in a luxurious business suit spread out his hands in a gesture of conciliation, "Miss Riley, do you mind if I call you Shay?"

The nameplate on the table identified him as Senator Khold of the Defense Appropriations Committee. Fury still pounding through her veins, Riley replied, "I'd prefer, captain."

He nodded earnestly, "Of course. Captain. I apologize for how some of the questions may sound, especially in light of the harrowing circumstances your crew faced. We are just trying to understand the nature of the incident and how something like this might be avoided in the future."

"You can start by telling soldiers and sailors what they're facing out there..."

Admiral Wilton interjected while turning to address the senators in the room, "Military high command is fully aware of the dangers the Coalition has..."

"No. No, we're not. I was never briefed..." Riley started,

"At ease! Captain." Wilton shouted. An uncomfortable hush fell in the room. He then continued, "As of this moment, Captain, you are dismissed. Thank you for your testimony."

Riley stood looking around the table, no one would return her gaze. "If I may sir? When can I expect reassignment?"

Wilton looked up at her, "Shortly. When you are officially released from the sick roster."

Two marines in dress uniforms advanced on Riley. One gestured to the door behind her. More than anything she wanted to find out if she'd be assigned another ship. Based on the embarrassed looks from those around the table she guessed her military career was over.

An air car took her to the hospital where she'd been a resident for the last two months in the Post Traumatic Stress ward. As she replayed the events of the conference in her mind she kept coming to the same conclusion. She would never fly a Federation ship again.

After a bland supper in the hospital's galley, surrounded by sailors and soldiers missing limbs, Riley went back to her recovery room to find a man in a business suit waiting for her.

"Sorry for the intrusion. I'm Colonel Andresyn with JAG." A military lawyer, those were never a good thing. He held out a hand and gave her a very handsome smile. Riley wondered just how many women he made weak in the knees with it. Hers were fine, Zed could crush his pretty face with one hand.

"Sir," she said, "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Well, there is," he seemed flustered. She wondered if she'd robbed him of a chance to butter her up with small talk, "Admiral Wilton and the rest of the command staff wanted me to ask you if you would be willing to resign your commission."

And there it was. She would never command again.

Andresyn continued, "On a personal note, I'd like to say..."

She interrupted with her own smile, "Why would I resign? I did everything I could to rescue my crew and return to Federated space."

Flustered again for a moment, his smile returned, trying to melt her and failing, "I completely sympathize with you. Knowing everything that you went through and the impossible odds you faced, it's really a miracle that your crew had someone as resourceful as you to guide them..."

"You've read the reports?"

He blushed, she did not. "Umm, well yes. As your council, I was required to..."

"You're my council? You represent me?"

Unused to this treatment, he was beginning to look like a fawn caught in headlights. "Yes, Miss Riley. I've been assigned your case and..."

"Miss Riley?" She knew what he was trying to do, trying to use the word Miss to condition her into already thinking of herself out of the military. He had no idea how deep and more effective Pavlovian training went. And she'd walked through those fires.

He responded, "I'm sorry... I guess technically it is still Captain..."

"But only technically?"

He stared at her, incredulous that he could barely finish a sentence without his verbal tactics being laid openly bare.

Stammering he asked, "Could we sit down? Maybe start again from the beginning?"

She sighed, "I don't think that it's necessary, Colonel. At the end of your flattering rationale for why I should resign, you will reluctantly tell me that if I don't, I'm probably looking at judicial punishment, a court marshal. For what? Loss of a ship? Two crew members?"

"Gross dereliction of duty, and action not in accordance with military standards." He said.

Riley nodded. The pain in the back of her throat threatened tears. Blast if she was going to let this weasel see them. She wanted to fight, just as she had on the bridge of the Unnamed. But she knew every action aboard Zed's ship would be dredged out and presented to a military panel of judges who'd never seen combat, never been at risk of capture, never been at risk of being out of morning coffee.

She managed to choke out, "And the conditions of resignation?"

"The Federation has set aside millions of square kilometers of farmland on Birria, a small agricultural world, as secondary benefits for wounded soldiers. You'd receive an isolated farm to do with as you please, although technically, it would still belong to the Federation. Also, a lifelong survivor's pension."

She said nothing. Riley just stared at him trying to comprehend why it had come to this.

"There is one other condition," he said, getting back into his groove of bowling doe-eyed women over, "You would need to sign a non-disclosure as well. You couldn't talk about the incident with anyone. Not even friends or family."

"And if I refuse?"

"As your defense lawyer, I'd advise against it. The case they are putting together is highly likely to win."

"And the results if they win?"

"A pretty lengthy prison term and complete loss of rank." He let the last words hang in the hospital room between them.

She closed her eyes. Life had been so much simpler when all she had to do was kneel. She longed so badly for that. Anything would be better than endlessly navigating legal weasels and the unending stream of psychologists urging her to talk her feelings out.

Trapped, was how she felt. And the only way to deal with an ambush was to get out of it as quickly as possible. "Give me your fucking pen."

Riley watched the setting sun and the twin moons rise over the horizon. She sipped the last of her kafe and Baily's then went inside her small home. Correction, the small home the Federation was letting her live in rent-free.

Six long months had passed. Six months with little to do but think. She was trapped now far away from everyone on a little farm on a planet at the edge of nowhere. She filled her day with long walks debating about whether she should learn to actually farm. Right now, though, it just felt good having nothing to do.

The four survivors kept in touch, calling each once a week at first. As the months dragged on, their calls became less frequent. Riley tearfully apologized to Geller for thinking she'd been the one telling all their plans to Zed when it had been K'rra all along. Maxwell refused to ever mention their capture. As a soil specialist, he immersed himself in running his tiny farm and was the first to stop calling altogether. Geller was the next, and while Riley enjoyed those moments of connection, she understood the botanist's awkwardness. She, too, threw herself into farming. The calls lasted longest with Terellia, although she also drifted away in time. All her crew had skills perfectly suited for farming life. Riley did not.

When asked by surgeons about her piercings, Riley demanded they be left and not removed. She explained they'd be scars, mementos to help her remember. They then explained the controller unit could not be removed. It had been fused to her spine, efforts to severe it might result in permanent paralysis. Somehow, for some reason, Riley felt comforted, knowing it was a reminder she would carry with her for the rest of her life.

She tried watching the news to pass the time and battle the ennui, but the reports were so saccharine and obviously biased that she quickly lost all interest. Even reading soon lost interest, the fiction too naive, and the nonfiction too breathlessly propagandistic. Her world dulled into a colorless existence.

So, every night, she would go out on her porch, the Federation's porch, with a cocktail in hand and dream of Zed's Unnamed streaking down out of the sky. She wanted it so badly at times it felt like a physical thing lodged deep in her chest.

After her drink, she would go to her room, the federation's room, and kneel at the foot of her bed. With closed eyes she'd imagine Zed coming through the cabin hatch, stopping to admire, to look at her, to really see her.

Frustrated and dead inside, she'd eventually crawl into bed. And as much as she tried to stop herself, try to convince herself not to, she would reach down and touch herself, reliving all those horrible highs of being enslaved. Her orgasms where a mere ghost of what they had been in Zed's arms. These, too, added to her colorless life of just drifting.

She spent six months repeating the same day.

Riley heard something in the front room and got up out of bed. Picking up her comm she slipped through the bedroom door into the living room just as the front door swung open. A massive bulk filled the doorway, and for a moment, her heart skipped a beat. Zed? The sudden swell of hope for a reunion died when the lights came on.

The massive bulk was a man she'd never seen before. Or had she? Where Zed's bulk was all muscle, grotesquely grafted onto a large human frame, this man was corpulent. Solidly built, tall, stocky, like an amateur rugby player, but also grotesque with flab and excess flesh. She quickly noted the luxurious business tunic and rich cape. This was no thief breaking in.

"Miss Riley, I wasn't expecting you up at this hour." The man said. "I'm Erefsto Khold. Senator Khold. We met at your hearing, not officially of course."

A senator? Now she remembered, he was the only one that hadn't made her feel utterly humiliated. Her first inclination was to greet him, even though he'd just barged into her home... Well, the home the Federation had given her, not entirely hers after all. The senator's gaze slid down her body, and she realized she was naked. She was well past the point of feeling shame but understood it would be far more appropriate to talk with a senator while clothed.

Riley replied, "Just a moment, Senator. I'll get a robe."

As she turned back to the bedroom door she felt the hunger. Waves of needy pleasure, a desire she hadn't felt in months. Her implants were active again.

"That won't be necessary," Khold said as he stepped into her living room.

Confused she stopped in her tracks instantly. Icy fear stabbed through her, and she could feel the increasing tempo of gnawing pain. She turned and looked back at the Senator.

In his hand was a control wand.

Senator Khold walked in, surveyed her modest home, and then planted himself on her sofa. Behind him, a thin, light-haired woman in a short skirt and very professional business suit jacket followed. The woman stopped just in front of the sofa, to one side, and went to her knees. The woman set a datapad on her lap, and then her hands went to the back of her neck, in slave position.

Riley could do nothing but stand there watching in horror, wanting to flee, knowing that if she dared, the pain would be overwhelming.

Khold laughed, "Oh, forgive my manners. I forgot to introduce... This is Kalee, my sexratary. I call her Kandi."

"What is this?" Riley asked. She struggled to understand why a Federated senator had a Coalition slave. On second glance, one that looked all too much like Riley. Her mouth felt very dry.

"I just wanted to pay you a visit before you are returned."

"Returned?" Riley asked, still trying to make sense with her frozen mind.

"Yes, returned," he said irritated and not used to being interrupted. "You know what, captain? Why don't you kneel like a good little slave?"

Riley bent to go down on her knees, and he stopped her, "No, no. Over here in front of me where I can get a good look at you."

Riley walked over to him, aware of how his eyes watched her move naked across the room. She knelt in the spot he indicated, right in front of him, her knees almost touching his feet. To her right, in front of her, was Kandi, within touching distance.

"Nice form, you've learned the pose well," Khold said with a lick to his lips. "Lift your hips up so I can see that sweet little cunt of yours better."

"Yes, sir." Riley did as instructed, knowing the Senator could see everything. She stole a glance at Kandi, whose knees were wide enough apart that her skirt had slipped up, showing she wore nothing beneath it. She snuck a peak at Riley, then blushing in shame, lipped, 'I'm sorry.'

"What I would have given to be on that pirate ship. I'll just bet the crew fucked you non-stop for a month solid."

"Yes, sir."

Khold slid a foot forward, between her thighs. "Go ahead and polish my shoe."

Riley felt an intense wave of pleasure just at the thought of touching herself to his foot. It felt even better when she did it, nearly sending her into a climax immediately.

"You were supposed to be mine." Khold continued. Riley grabbed his knee with both hands and ground herself against his foot. She wanted desperately to please him, to get herself off, but it just wouldn't come. "I had to pull a lot of strings. A science ship with all women. Except we couldn't find a fully complimentary crew. Had to include a single man, which would have cut into our payout."

He ground his foot against her, and she could feel just how wet she was as she slid across him. "But you, Captain. You were picked out from a dozen girls. Just the right conservative upbringing. Just the right lack of dating in school. Just the right lack of sexual experience. You were going to be my Kandi. A little plaything to mold into the perfect obedient whore for me."

"I knew the pirates would... wear you in. But only for a few weeks. I could tighten you up later. And after being fucked senseless by every alien scum bag on that ship, you'd be grateful to just serve one owner. Just like Kandi here is grateful."

"Yes, sir," Kandi replied meekly.

"But you had to go and ruin the whole fucking plan with an escape. Didn't you?"

"Yes, sir," Riley moaned. She wanted to climax, even listening to his gloating monologue, but refused to give him the satisfaction of begging.

"And now I can't keep you."

Oh, thank the stars, Riley thought as she continued humping against him. But if not him, who or what then? There was no way he was going to leave her here after explaining all this.

"So sadly, I have to send you back to the Coalition. Can't have all that wonderful tech lying around for Fed scientists to reverse engineer someday. If they ever built a jammer, it would cost us billions of credits in lost revenue."

Even though hard to piece together with her pussy screaming for release, Riley asked, "Us?"

"Well, not you, of course. But there are plenty of people who know on the Federation side. We make sure the pirates know where to strike and who to take, and we get our cut. And other fringe benefits. Trips to The Trace to pretend that we are negotiating peace deals with those tinpot warlords." He laughed, "At taxpayer expense, no less. While really, those scummy warlords just let us tour their most depraved brothels."

Khold glanced over at Kandi, "And, of course, we get our pick of slaves. Discretely of course. Kandi here is listed as my Senatorial Staff Aide... really, she just aids in milking my prick all day. Isn't that right cocksucker?"

"Yes, sir," Kandi replied.

"Why are you still dressed slut? Show some respect to your fellow slave cunt and get that shit off."

"Yes, sir," Kandi whispered as her fingers began working the buttons of her jacket. She tossed the garment aside, revealing smooth, pale skin dotted with a galaxy of freckles. She then kicked her legs out, not rising, and slid her skirt off. The high heels she was wearing stayed on and she went immediately back into her kneeling position.

"That's better," Khold said. He reached out to stroke Kandi's head. Kandi winced but dared not flinch away. Riley could see bruises all over the slave's body and, worse, the crisscrossing of lash marks. Riley was thankful her escape meant she wouldn't be kept by him. She felt immense sorrow for Kandi, who was obviously not enjoying herself in Riley's place.

"You two could almost be twins." Khold said, leering at the two kneeling women, "Turn that cunt around Kandi, and let's see the both of you side by side."

Kandi crawled over to Riley and turned so they were both facing Khold. He pushed his other foot forward, and Kandi climbed onto it, joining Riley in her task. The two slaves humped side by side.

"Hair is about the same, light reddish, cute on both of you. Kandi has a prettier face. Looks like you're a little taller captain. Tits, mmm tits, now we're getting to the important bits. What men really want when they judge a chick."

Riley listened as she was reduced to body parts, bits and pieces with no value other than to get a man off. Kandi's breathing was irregular as she wiped herself across Khold's foot frantically.

"Captain, I have to say your tits are spectacular. Full, firm, like they've never been manhandled before. Kandi here is sadly just a little smaller, a little flatter and saggier. What do you say to that Kandi."