Captain Jack Hancock ran his finger off the back of the top card of his deck. He was dressed in a formal military uniform, complete with epaulets, tassels, and a multitude of medals. As always he felt a surge of pride looking down at his medals, he really needed to give himself another one sometime soon.
He sipped from a Martini glass filled with potent alcohol and was constantly touching the beautiful women on either side of him. One was a tanned Asian woman in a light brown sari, the other a redhead in oily overalls, neither could ever have been called flat-chested.
"You ain't got nothing," growled the Calamarian across from the table,.
A dozen different species of the half-aquatic Calamarians were packed into the crowded spaceport bar, like sardines in an overly on-the-nose metaphor.
The alien facing Jack directly across the table looked like a cross between a bodybuilder and a shark. It had huge muscular arms and a long face, packed with razor-sharp teeth.
"I've got this in the bag," Jack retorted confidently, "But if you're feeling lucky we could up the stakes." He took a deep dramatic breath, "Let's say the contract for the Claw's latest job."
A hush ran threw the room and suddenly every set of fishy eyes was on their table.
"But Boss," a smaller Calamarian, with bug eyes and tentacles, hissed. "He's already betting on credit."
"Yeah," the Shark Man nodded, "What are you offering as collateral."
Jack threw a control wand down on the table, "How about the fastest ship this side of the forbidden zone?" he offered with a waggle of his eyes.
"Ha," the bug-eyed Calamarian laughed, "He means that giant flying dong outside."
The collective bar looked out of the Star Port window and Jack's ship, the Penetrator, the tallest and most interestingly shaped ship in port. Build in the style of an old-fashioned rocket, it consisted of a long cylinder propelled by two circular thrusters at its base. The raised cockpit completed the phallic look perfectly.
"The Calamari Cartel has a dozen ships," the Shark grinned showing off his multitude of teeth, "What would I need with that flying compensator?"
"Ah," Jack said the insult pinging harmlessly off his ego. "Asha, stand up," he ordered, his eyes not leaving his opponent.
The tanned woman pushed her seat back and stood up. Other than the brown Sari all she wore was a black slave collar. She was thin but with a huge, massively out-of-proportion, pair of natural breasts.
"Aasha here is a descendant of Old Earth's India," Jack said presenting her like a prize. "I don't know if all Indians had breasts quite as impressive as hers, but I like to think they did. Aasha, show them the goods."
"Yes Master," the Indian woman said and slipped the Sari off of her shoulders, the entire garment slid down her body easily. Her breasts were ridiculously oversized, shaped like teardrops, and as big as watermelons. A neatly kept dark landing strip marked the path from her navel to her pussy lips.
"We found her in a stasis pod on a derelict pleasure cruiser," Jack explained, "The sole survivor. She was raised from birth to be a sex slave, so she has skills that will blow your mind."
"What about her?" the big Calamarian indicated the woman on Jack's other side.
"Dream on you fish-faced fuck," Kaley, the ship's first engineer, replied gruffly. She wasn't one to mince her words, was known to mince the occasional face.
Tall and muscular with a short bob of wild red hair she should have appeared masculine, but a pretty face and large round bust countered this nicely. While nothing compared to Aasha's her breasts were large and impossibly spherical, constantly looking ready to explode from her low-cut overalls.
"I'm not a slave," the Engineer continued in a matter-of-fact voice, "And I'm not up for sale."
"Yeah, you can have her too," Jack declared nonchalantly, "She sucks like a black hole, but has a temper, beware."
"For fucks sake Captain," Kaley hissed at him.
"Don't worry," Jack smiled at her, "I've got this in the bag. Now get your tits out and let the horrendous fish monsters see what he's playing for."
"You are a god damned pig," she grumbled and unbuttoned the straps on her overalls. Her big breasts exploded out, they were large, pale, and crowned with small conical nipples.
The bug-eyed Calamarian moved round the table, groping each of the women in turn, his slimy tentacles wrapping around their breasts. Even Aasha, a trained professional, flinched at his slimy touch. Kaley endured him for a few seconds then picked him up easily in one hand and threw him across the room.
"Ha," the Shark Faced Alian Laughed, "They will do nicely, and when we're done with them we can make them into kebabs."
"I'm sure that's just slang for some horribly degraded sex act," Jack assured Kaley when she glared at him.
"Let's play," Shark Face announced slamming a data crystal down on the table. "Your ship and the two whores against the meet location for Claws job."
"Hey," Kaley shouted, offended at the word whore.
"Next card for the game then," the Bug-Eyed alien wheezed limping back to his place at the center of the table.
He flipped over one card from the deck and placed it in the center of the table. Jack moved like lightning slamming his card down on top of the dealers.
"Snap," he shouted, winning the game.
###
There was instant chaos in the bar. Calamarians shouted and jostled each other in shock at the result. In the confusion, no one noticed a small blonde figure move out of the shadows and take up position near the door.
"Fairs, fair," Jack grinned snatching the data crystal off of the table. Kaley and Aasha quickly covered themselves up and followed Jack towards the door.
Kaley had to land a few well-placed, reducing several fish faces to mush, as they pressed through the crowd. They were nearly there when a small box around Jack's belt sparked and fizzled, causing the holographic card on the table to vanish.
There was a moment of silence before every Calamarian in the room roared in fury and charged toward Jack and the girls. An explosion shook the room and they all froze staring at the previously unnoticed blonde holding a blunderbuss nearly as large as her.
"Back," she shouted, "All of you, or I'll paint the walls in canned tuna."
Jen, the ship's electrician and Kaley's partner was small and petite, the polar opposite of her partner. She had short spiked blonde hair and wore a tight green tank top and khaki cargo pants.
The cannon's kickback had knocked Jen from her feet, but the shot bought Kaley enough time to fight her way to her partner. She seized the huge gun and swung it around to fire an indiscriminate shot into the crowd.
"I'll show you kebabs," she roared. Jen pulled an elaborate remote from her belt and flicked a switch. The bar's fire suppression system activated filling the room with thick flame retardant gas. The Calamari's scattered in a panicked bedlam, laser blasts shot through the smoke, and countless smaller fights erupted in the confusion.
Hidden in the chaos Jack, Aasha, Kaley, and Jen slipped through the crowd and out into the spaceport.
"So where are we going boss," Kaley asked as they rushed down a service corridor.
"Looks like Ganami Station," Jake said, placing the data crystal into his wrist computer.
###
"Ganami Station," Kraemer said, his thick arms folded over his barrel chest, "That can be done." The first mate was a black male in his early fifties, but still strong as a bull, despite his years.
"Great," Capitan Serena Harington, gave her first mate a smile. She was young for her post, barely out of her teens, with long blonde hair and an amazing figure. She was thin but had curves in all the right places, a thick ass, and an ample set of double-D breasts.
Her skin-tight uniform and been specifically designed to show off her firm young body. Several large holes had been strategically left out of the grey material to show off as much flesh as possible. It was what the crew liked, so it was what she wore.
"The ship is in full working order, fuelled up and ready to go," Kraemer added, efficient as always. It wasn't surprising he was leading in the merit table for the third week running. "That is if Haworth gets his finger out of his ass, the engines are still only operating at half capacity."
Serena's face fell, her engineer was a class-A pain in her ass, sometimes literally.
"I'll deal with it," she sighed and headed down towards engineering.
She had inherited her ship, the Clit Nine, from her father, the legendary Hammer Face Harrington. He'd been one of the galaxy's most famous and successful smugglers. When he died he left his ship and crew to his only daughter.
The problem had been her only real qualification was the control wand coded to her DNA. The aging crew needed her to operate the ship, but they didn't respect her. They left in dribs and drabs. Retiring or quitting with varying degrease of grace and goodwill.
It had looked like she'd lose them all. That was until she came up with the merit system. Basically, the crew member who earned the most merit points in a week would get to spend the night with her.
Sadly by the time she had the idea, she only had three crew members left. Now it was only her weekly attentions that kept them on the ship. Naturally, it was the ever-loyal and efficient Kraemer who got to have her most weeks, but old Toothless Pete and Haworth had to get their turns.
Toothless Pete, the navigator, was seventy-two, with one eye and a bionic leg. The thought of spending the night with him would have turned Serena's stomach, but the old man was only interested in one thing. He was obsessed with eating pussy and would happily do it all night. He wasn't bad at it either.
Haworth on the other hand did turn her stomach. She could stand his fat body, dreadful hygiene, and even his bad breath. His cruel and humiliating tastes in the bedroom were the reason she couldn't stand him.
It didn't take long for her to start rigging the merit system against him. That led to the already surly engineer becoming damn right insubordinate. He would deliberately hold back on work refusing to do it unless his captain offered him extra, motivation.
When the door to engineering slid open, Haworth was waiting for her leaning on a steel guard rail. He wore a filthy T-shirt and worn blue slacks, the only thing that would stretch around his fat belly.
"Hey Cap," he sneered, "What's up?"
"You know why I'm here," Selena shouted, "What is going on with the engines?"
"Yeah, I do know why you're here," the fat man agreed giving her a lecherous stare. "And so do you."
"Just tell me what's happening with the engines," Selena demanded.
The fat man sucked in a breath between his teeth, "Well, it's a big job see. It could take me a while. Of course, I might go a bit faster with the proper motivation,"
