Return to Zesta

This is the sequel to The Naughty Nymph, picking up right where the previous story left off: directly after the narrow escape from the station. For any of this to make sense, I recommend reading the first part.

Many thanks to Gortmundy and Tryptics for your feedback and support!

Hades

Ask any soldier who has seen battle and they will tell you that there's no shame in a well-executed retreat. A big part of my job with the Syndicate had been hitting hard and getting the hell out before anyone was the wiser. But being driven out of my home and business by a bunch of third-rate thugs? That stung.

On the positive side, nobody had been captured or killed, our money was safe, and despite a few direct hits, all absorbed by the shields, the ship was in good condition. After three days and a dozen jumps from system to system, I was reasonably convinced that nobody was on our tail, and in all probability, we weren't important enough to warrant an extensive search by the Teraxan Navy.

Of all the times I had been on the run, this was by far the most relaxed. The supplies would last for a few more weeks, and thanks to Anahí, who was perfectly capable of operating the ship, I was even able to get a good night's sleep.

"So what's the plan?" asked Sylvie, standing at the stove in our tiny galley while Carla was chopping vegetables.

I yawned and lifted my head from Rashid's lap. "I'll eat quickly and then I'll relieve Ani so she can have lunch, too. It smells amazing, by the way."

"Long-term plans, I mean. We can't live on the Rose forever."

"We'll get you girls to safety, stash the ship somewhere, and then Rashid and I are going back to Zesta. We're gonna resolve this situation one way or another."

"Isn't that too dangerous?" asked Carla. "The police are looking for you. And those gangsters, too."

"Those fuckers will see that they were messing with the wrong people," said Rahid and put down the data pad he was reading. "Zesta is my home turf. They won't even see what's coming."

I nodded. "Dozens of ships dock there every day. Security isn't that tight, especially around the shipyards and the freight terminals. We'll get to them before they even know we're there."

"Can't we just go somewhere else?" asked Carla, putting the vegetables into Sylvie's curry. "We have our money, we could start a new business."

"Our whole life is there. Don't you want to see Benny again?"

"Of course I want to see Benny! But not if that means anyone gets in trouble. I'm really scared that something will happen to you, okay?"

"We'll be fine. When Rashid and I worked special ops, we did these things a lot. We have the video evidence, and I know exactly who to lean on to get our arrest warrants squashed. All we gotta do-"

Suddenly, an alarm was blaring through the ship. Proximity alert? What the...?

"Cassie!" shouted Anahí. "I need you here. An Omega class destroyer jumped right on top of us. No transponder."

"Fuck. Coming!"

*

It took me five seconds to get to the cockpit, and by that time, Anahí had already raised the shields and started evasive maneuvers.

"Jump drive status?" I asked and sat down next to her at the helm.

"Still cooling down. No way we're getting anywhere in the next twenty minutes."

I looked at the tactical display. The destroyer was still out of weapons range, so I lowered the shields and transferred all energy to the engines. It didn't matter anyway, the shields wouldn't last long against that kind of firepower.

"Twelve minutes at maximum speed to that asteroid field," said Anahí. "But we won't reach it, right? The only chance we'd have is in a planet's atmosphere."

"Yeah," I said, checking the sensor readout.

Wait a minute, I thought. It took me a few seconds to zoom in and re-check, then I laughed and leaned back in my seat.

"Rahid," I shouted. "Look who's here!"

He entered the cockpit and glanced at the rear sensor display. It was an impressive war machine -- a modified Omega class with an extra set of Mark VII gun batteries. Extensive discoloration across large parts of the hull were a clear sign that this ship had seen intense battles.

"The Hades?" he asked. "What's Angie doing here?"

I shrugged. The Hades was part of the Syndicate's Quick Reaction Force, a heavily armed, mobile intervention force that was sent wherever superior firepower was required. Both Rashid and I had worked with them in the past, and they had helped us out of more than one sticky situation.

"You can ask them," said Anahí. "Call incoming."

"Put it on the screen."

A gray-haired woman appeared on our main comms display. She was wearing the black uniform of a Syndicate Navy officer and waved at the camera.

"Angie," I said. "Looking sharp as ever."

"Hello, Cassidy. Nice to see you again. How's civilian life treating you?"

"It has its ups and downs. How's Javi?"

"Doing great," I heard a voice and a moment later, Javier Martinez, my old copilot and Angie's husband, appeared next to her on the screen. "I watched the sensor footage from Zesta. That was some fine piloting, good to see that you still got it."

"Thanks. Sucks that we had to leave like that, I had hoped these kinds of things were behind me."

"You're never really out," said Angie, smirking. "What do you say, Javi, do we collect the bounty? Finally take that trip to Helios?"

Javi grinned. "Five thousand credits, that's quite a few cocktails on the beach."

I laughed. "Five thousand? What kind of bounty is that? I'm insulted!"

"It's been posted by a private citizen," said Angie. "One Martha Rodriguez. I assume you know her?"

"Yeah, I do. Rashid and I will handle it."

"Anyway, George keeps close tabs on you, and when he heard about your troubles, he dispatched us. Took us a few days, but you know, there's no hiding when we're on your trail."

"You were cheating, you still had my drive signature on file."

Angie laughed. "That helped, of course. Unfortunately, we don't have a whole lot of time, but we're happy to give you a lift out of Teraxan-controlled space."

"Much appreciated."

"If you're up for some action, we've got a line on a pirate base somewhere in the Mintarra system. Those guys have been raiding shipping lanes for months. We could use a few good operators for recon."

"Thanks, but I'm enjoying civilian life. I've got my girls to take care of, and I-"

Suddenly, another dot appeared on the tactical display, and in the background of the video link, I could see a flurry of activity on Angie's bridge.

"This is Teraxan cruiser Zeus to Furious Rose. You are under arrest. Shut down your engines and prepare to be boarded."

Angie quickly checked her screen. "Invictus class, pre-war light cruiser. Old, but these babies pack quite a punch."

"Must be some stupid coincidence. We're small fry, nobody would send a goddamn cruiser after us."

"They're probably hunting pirates like we do. In any case, it looks like they're taking their weapons online."

Anahí pointed at the nav console that showed the countdown for the emergency jump solution she had just calculated. With the drive still cooling down and not yet ready for recharging, it didn't look good -- if the cruiser chose to fire a missile, we wouldn't make it.

"Angie, we have four minutes twenty to jump."

"Roger. We'll open the hangar for you and stall the Teraxans. Talk to you in a bit."

The screen went blank and moments later the Hades fired up her thrusters, positioning itself between us and the Teraxan ship. I had seen Angie punch through planetary defense grids and take on battlecruisers when covering us on our missions, but an Invictus class ship was a serious threat, even though the Hades with its Mark VII batteries had a slightly longer range.

"Zeus, this is Syndicate destroyer Hades. You are approaching our defense perimeter. Please change course."

"Negative, Hades. Do not interfere with our boarding operation or you will be fired upon."

"Zeus, this ship is under Syndicate protection. Change your course or we will take defensive measures."

There was no response and on the tactical display I could see that the Teraxans were still approaching at high speed. Hopefully, they had a tactical officer smart enough to see that this wasn't a regular Omega class they were dealing with. I pushed the thrust lever forward, maneuvering the Rose towards the Hades's opening hangar door.

"Two minutes to intercept," said Anahí, who was closely following the ships and their trajectories on the display.

What are these idiots doing, I thought. Picking a fight with the QRF was downright stupid, and if push came to shove, the Syndicate could mobilize a lot more ships than the Teraxan Navy. War was bad for business, but George wasn't above delivering a show of strength.

"Cassie, they're still coming at us," said Anahí. "Hades is going weapons hot."

"Zeus, we have it on good authority that your rules of engagement don't include attacking Syndicate ships. Final warning, change course immediately."

I knew Angie would stand her ground. She had her orders from George, and no captain of a warship would let a potentially hostile ship get this close without taking action. In order to not lose her advantage, she would have to fire before she was inside the cruiser's weapons range.

Nervously, I watched the dots on the screen get closer and closer as I steered the ship into the hangar.

"Now they're changing course," said Anahí and leaned back. "And here I thought they'd do something stupid."

I sighed. "Me, too. My life is complicated enough right now, I really don't need a scuffle between the Syndicate and Teraxis. Especially not over us."

"Hades, you are harboring fugitives, and you have impeded a lawful boarding operation. Vacate Teraxan space immediately and expect a protest note from our government."

"Zeus, the Syndicate has not and will not recognize claims on uninhabited space. Have a good day, ladies and gentlemen. Hades out."

Favor

The Hades gave us the promised lift and left us in the orbit of Veruna, a thinly populated planet with a large Syndicate supply base. A couple of long-range jumps had taken us well outside Teraxan space, shortening our trip from a week to less than half a day. Veruna was peaceful enough to drop off the girls while Rashid and I traveled back to take care of business. As a parting gift, Angie enlisted a freighter captain to take us to Zesta -- all we needed now was a cover.

"What do you think?" asked Rashid. "Mr. and Mrs. Sharma?"

"The Sharmas wouldn't travel on a freighter. Maybe we could pose as crew members."

"Crew members are vetted, and we don't have fake IDs," he said, checking the energy coil of his blaster. "If things went south, they'd ask that captain why he didn't notice our open warrants."

"Yeah," I said and scratched my head. "We need plausible deniability for him and his crew. Wouldn't be fair to get anyone in trouble over a favor. I'm afraid the best way is what we did back on Sentarra."

"You're sure? It's a great cover, but I know how much you hate the, err, disguise."

I sighed. "No, it's fine. But I'm warning you, if you take pictures I'm cutting you off. No sex on the way home, I mean it."

Rashid grinned and gave me a kiss on the head. "Don't worry. I still have one of you in that wedding dress. That's for the ages."

*

Downtown, two kilometers from the spaceport, we found a tiny slavery supply store off the central shopping promenade. The main area of the shop was just two by four meters with shelves full of restraints, a few punishment implements, clothes, and a couple of sacks of slave gruel.

The old man behind the counter was short, wearing a stained, washed-out T-shirt, and didn't seem to be quite ready for customers. When we walked through the door into the dimly lit shop, he ignored us and took a sip from a bottle of booze and kept eating his sandwich. I could smell the alcohol on his breath from two meters away.

Rashid cleared his throat. "Excuse me. We need a collar for her."

Without looking up, Gramps pointed at a dusty shelf to our left with two dozen collars in various sizes and materials. It was a small part of the selection you'd find at a typical Slave Emporium branch, but we didn't have the time to look elsewhere.

After a glance at the merchandise I picked one of the cheaper models from the bottom shelf and checked it from all sides. It was a bit heavy, as could be expected in this price range, but there were no sharp edges, and that was the most important thing. I put it around my neck and it was a good, comfortable fit.

"That one?" asked Rashid.

I nodded and put it on the counter. "Yeah, it'll do."

Rashid took a handful of coins from his pocket, which finally seemed to awaken Grandpa's business sense.

"That one comes with a built-in standard tracker," he said, his eyes firmly on the money. "We have dura steel models in the back. Premium quality, with neuro stims to keep her in line. A few zaps and she'll eat out of your hand."

Rashid leaned forward over the counter. "Do I look like I need help keeping anyone in line?"

Gramps gulped and raised his hands in defense. "No offense, buddy. Plain steel it is. Owner and registration?"

"Sanjay Kumar," said Rashid and turned towards me.

I slowly spelled out my old slave registration number that was still tattooed above my pubic mound -- clearly readable and in unremovable, self-regenerating nanite ink.

Carefully, character by character, Gramps typed the information into his pad on the counter, correcting himself a few times when he missed the right key. Then he took the collar and fed it into a small toaster-sized machine on the shelf behind him, and half a minute later, he showed us the result.

Property of Sanjay Kumar

#THA-VBZR-7F51

At least there's no typo, I thought and picked up my new, permanent accessory.

There were few things in life that I hated as much as wearing a collar, but it couldn't be helped. With a sigh, I put it around my neck and turned the seam to the side.

"Welding is extra," said Gramps and reached for his bottle, but Rashid took it from him and put it on the far left side of the counter, out of reach.

"Is that so," he said, squinting his eyes slightly. "The sign outside says it's included."

Gramps shrugged, eyeing his booze. "Okay, fine. Lean over."

He fished a quick-welder from a drawer and with trembling fingers he clamped it around the collar, covering the seam with the business end of the tool. All it took was the press of a button and fifteen seconds later, the collar was locked around my neck.

*

The whole way back to the ship I felt very self-conscious. It was like everybody was staring at my neck, which obviously wasn't true -- nobody paid a serf any mind -- but still, despite thirty degrees in the shade, I wished I had a scarf to cover that stupid, heavy thing.

"Looks great on you," said Sylvie, grinning from ear to ear as she was running her fingers over the surface of my collar. "I always said that neck of yours needs a collar."

I shoved her hand away. "Yeah, yeah, don't get used to it, sweetie. It's just a prop for the mission."

Carla turned my collar to check it from all sides. "It's welded shut and it has a tracker. I'd say it's the real deal. Now we have to convince Ani and then we're all properly collared."

"Good luck with that," I said and chuckled.

"Obviously, there isn't a lot of benefit without a contract," said Sylvie, smiling innocently. "You spent the money, all you gotta do now is get yourself back on the slave register. The tax benefits for serfs-"

"I'm not gonna get registered. And this thing will come off the moment our issues back home are resolved."

Carla held up her wrists. "I could lend you my bracelets. It'll be even more authentic, and Rashid could cuff you if you're misbehaving."

"You wish," I said and gave her a soft slap on the butt. "Ani will take care of you two while I'm away. She's gone into town to get some supplies, but she'll be back in an hour, tops."

"Is it okay if we make a bit of money? Sylvie already checked, it's perfectly legal inside the port."

Sylvie nodded. "You don't even need a license, there's just a ten percent income tax. We'll work out of the ship, and we have Ani for security."

"Girls, Angie told me they have a lovely beach five kilometers from here. How about you get yourself some bikinis and sunscreen and treat this like a vacation?"

"We're totally gonna do that," said Carla. "But we haven't had sex in four days."

"Almost five," said Sylvie. "Not with men, anyway."

"Alright, alright," I said and gave them both a hug. "It's your decision. Be good and don't get yourselves in trouble while I'm gone. Keep the door locked, and don't let strangers in unless Ani is here."

*

Our ride back to Zesta was a medium-sized Foccault ninety-seven freighter at landing pad Delta fourteen. It looked fairly new and in good condition, much better than most of the ships I had traveled on in my early twenties.

When Rahid and I arrived with our luggage, half an hour before our scheduled departure time, the cargo doors were already closed, and a bearded, middle-aged man with a captain's insignia on his uniform was waiting for us outside.

"I'm Lina and this is Sanjay," I said. "Angie Martinez sends us. She said you're gonna take us to Zesta, no questions asked."

"Yes," he said, shaking our hand with a firm grip. "Richard Mayer, captain of the Amelie, at your service."

"Zesta is on your route? I hope it's not a big detour."

"No, no, it's fine. We have a stop at Meriva, Teraxis isn't too far out of the way. It's a good opportunity to get some repairs done, and to be honest, I'm happy to get this off the books. The last thing I need is owing favors to the Syndicate."

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. What got you on the hook for this?"

"Pirates attacked us the other week, and Ms. Martinez helped us out, just in time when our starboard shield collapsed. If it hadn't been for her, they would have boarded us."

I grimaced. Pirates wouldn't leave witnesses -- the best anyone could hope for was ending up illegally enslaved on some mining outpost on the Rim.

"It's a fucking shame," I said, rearranging that stupid collar around my neck. "But I hear the Syndicate has deployed some of their best ships to deal with them. Pirates are bad for everyone's business."

"Damn right. So, you two are operatives?"

"The less you know, the better. Let's just say, we'd like to avoid the welcoming committee when we get home. There's no need to worry, it's not going to be dangerous, and it won't get you in trouble."

"That's good to hear. But what do I tell the crew? We're cargo haulers, our payload is engine parts and supplies. Taking on passengers, that's... unusual. It'll raise questions."

"Oh, you're gonna tell them the truth. And the truth is, Sanjay here needs to get to Zesta, but he's a bit short on cash. That's why he's willing to have his serf work off the fare."

Mayer raised his eyebrow. "Work off how?"

"Ship's whore," I said and did my best to keep a straight face as his jaw dropped. "Or do you already have one?"

"Ship's whore?" he said, and it was amusing to see how hard he tried to avoid staring at me. "We make supply runs to hyperspace relays and mining outfits. That's not exactly where anyone would want to travel. I can't even remember the last time we had a woman on board."

"That's a Foccault ninety-seven, right? With a crew of six? Seven?"

"Including me we're seven."

"Okay," I said and picked up my bag. "I can handle that, not a problem. Tell your guys it's for the good work they've been doing."

Mayer turned to Rashid. "She's serious?"