(Cockpit, BSN Jester, Interstellar Space)
There were few things, in Slave-Captain Simimar Craro’s mind, that were more incredibly dull and unexciting than shadowing a freighter, waiting for pirates to attack. This was especially true, he thought, when the freighter in question had no idea that they were being shadowed.
Oh, there were plenty of reasons not to tell the freighter. After all, letting civilians know that they are nothing but nice, juicy bait for pirates had an unfortunate tendency to unsettle the minds of those civilians. That led to them inevitably overselling their part or, more likely, doing something completely stupid out of fear. No, it was best to leave them in blissful ignorance.
His Jester was one of the newest gunboats in the Black Star Navy, brought into service after the Second Battle of Nuevo Edo. Sure, there were only five people on board, but the Jester could duke it out with any normal pirate raider and give far better than she got. It might not be able to go toe to toe with the likes of Shinokage, but damned if he wouldn’t put even odds on his bird against any other light cruiser that wasn’t a Black Star design.
The Alebeard Shipping Vessel True Brew was not a match for anything other than the tamest of atmospheric-only drones, if his sensors were reading correctly. Unarmed ones, at that. The freighter was big, slow, and was only armed with basic point defense weapons which were usually only used against small asteroids or the like. The shields were laughably weak against any kind of military weaponry. In short, it was the perfect bait for this operation.
Jester and her sister gunboat, Isis, were assigned to shadow this fat, hulking freighter, because raiders were an issue everywhere Black Star wasn’t, it seemed, and the Company was getting paid to crack a few heads around the Grathdan Sector while the stumpy assholes and their vaunted Consortium Navy went and dealt with some other problem. Word around the fleet was that the X’thari were probably up to something, and the stumpies were getting their asses handed to them.
Most people in Black Star were ‘locals’, as the Master called them. Made sense, since he and a bunch of the higher-ups in the Navy and the Marines were Nomads. Most locals didn’t know that much about Nomads, or what they could do. Might as well have been some silly concept like magic as anything real. To a local, Nomads were impossibilities made flesh.
Black Star locals knew better. One of the perks of being a Black Star, even as a slave, was that you learned about the Nomads, and you learned what they could do. More importantly, you could learn what they knew! That’s one of the reasons he was damn glad to have SexKitten as part of his crew.
Despite the crazy name, which she told him was some kind of joke she made when she had decided to ‘become’ a Felisan when she projected herself to this world, and later found she couldn’t change without becoming a new person, she was the best natural gunner he had ever seen. When she was on the weapon controls, whoever was on the other side of her screens was fucked, pure and simple. That was just one of the reasons he liked having her around.
Oh, sure, the fact that she basically coped with the boredom that came with deployments on a ship as small as the Jester by living up to her name didn’t hurt. And she actually had a lot of stories to tell from her adventures in other worlds. And she was one of the slaves bought off after the Legion Plague destroyed Jagloth, same as he was. Those all added to the appeal of having her on board, but they weren’t the main reason he was glad she was on his boat.
As a Nomad, SexKitten heard things. Everyone knew that the Nomads had their own information networks, part of the tech they used to project here. It was on CNN and everything, even before the Impies finished their Civil War. What most locals didn’t know, however, was that the Nomad nets had different levels to them. So SexKitten got the goods on not only stuff happening in Known Space in general, but also the inside info on company gossip!
And the gossip was always flying fast and furious surrounding the Master. Like, when the Empress of the Terran Empire basically had her top advisors tell her to get the Master to knock her up? And Princess Sheila offered to help? The news of the Master’s poleaxed expression had made it into the Black Star section of the Nomad comm nets as soon as his bodyguard/harem girl, Jaynie, could get it there, and from there it had spread throughout the Black Star forces at a speed that was significantly faster than light.
The gossip network had been immediately activated when people found out that the Master was going ‘rogue’, and trying to be a normal person for once. There were some people that thought he should stay back and stay on the command deck looking important like an Admiral was supposed to, but most everyone in the First Group comm nets were simply surprised that it had taken the Master this long to find a way to ‘play hooky’. Of course, being who he was, the Master couldn’t just skip out of sight without people noticing, so he took the Raven AI’s drone body with him. Raven kept those on the flagship in the loop, and someone leaked that information to the Black Star gossip comnets, and some of the Nomads still in Cadra had copied it to the Black Star Nomad comnet, which is how Jester and Isis were able to keep apprised of the goings on, while they dealt with boring convoy duty. Apparently, there were more than a few betting pools going around the fleet about what kind of trouble the Master would get into on the station.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“Twenty credits says that he buys a new pet for his harem.”
Simimar looked over to SexKitten, and grinned. “Oh, you think that, after so long not adding anyone to his little collection, not even a pop idol who is his personal slave and literally can’t say no, that he’ll just up and add someone because we’re in Gauz space?”
The Felisan nomad shook her head. “He hasn’t added anyone in because there’s only Humans and Knelfi around him, mostly. But a sector capitol planet here in the Consortium? They’ll probably have some ‘exotics’ to curl his toes, you know?”
Simimar laughed. “Oh, because he didn’t find ANY exotics on Dimiya, or when he visited Sol all those times. You and the Gunsmith aren’t the only Felisans in the company, you know. If he wanted something ‘exotic’, he could just call one of them up and order to bend over.”
“Nah, but they’re all part of the fleet already. Probably taken when he was busy managing other things. They’re old news, so he isn’t going to notice them. Trust me, he is going to find something new, and fuck the daylights out of it.”
“Ha! And what are you willing to bet on that? And don’t tell me something silly like twenty credits. We both know you want something with higher stakes.”
SexKitten purred. “Ooh, you do know how to get a girl’s thoughts racing, Simmy! If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had all kinds of naughty ideas in mind! Where is that famous knelfi snootiness, hmm? So, what are we wagering, then?”
Simimar grinned, and said, “Let’s open it up to everyone, shall we?”
Jester comnet public chat
SC, SexKitten, Greasemonkey, Fixit, and Miri_luvr_69 are in the chat.
SC: All right, boys and girls, and Susan.
Miri_luvr_69: Fuck you, Simmy!
SC: Hah! Anyways, we’ve got ourselves the beginning of a little wager up here in the cockpit, and, being the kind, generous sort of captain I am, I simply couldn’t deprive you all of the chance to get in on the action.
Fixit: There isn’t any Trakanian Rum involved, right?
SC: *sigh* Of course not. You all were very specific that no more wagers with Trakanian Rum were allowed.
Fixit: Good, because the last time, I woke up with Aiduin’s wrench in my ass!
Greasemonkey: Hey! At least I was nice enough to insert it from the round end, instead of the business end!
SexKitten: No, no alcohol involved in the wager. At least, not alcohol that we’d be drinking.
Miri_luvr_69: Ooh, now you have me all excited. What are we betting on, then?
SC: As you know, Kitten has been keeping us informed about the Master’s antics through the Nomad comnets, so we don’t waste company bandwidth on long-range transmissions. So, our naughty kitty who likes guns almost as much as she likes—
SexKitten: Finish that and I’ll be borrowing Aiduin’s wrench, Simmy.
Greasemonkey: HAH! You’ll have to fight Meriel for it!
Fixit: HEY! Don’t be bringing me into this!
Greasemonkey: You’re the one who complained that you needed something nice and hard, just I was going on shift!
SC: Aiduin, don’t tease the girl for having needs. Meriel, if you need a ‘hand’, then wait until you are both off shift. You know the rules, no sex at any of our action stations unless we are in port.
Fixit: Fiiiine!
Miri_lvr_69: So, what is this wager involving the Master?
SexKitten: Opening up multiple wagers, no credits, all favors or other ‘friendly’ bets. First wager is that our incredibly hot lord and Master will buy a new harem girl in the local slave market.
Miri_lvr_69: Mmm. He could take me any way he wants, any time he wants. Have you seen the holocalendar? I could climb up and down those abs all day long! And that butt!
SexKitten: I have it on good authority that the ‘full package’ is even better than what you’ve seen.
Fixit: What are we talking about, here? Size, or stamina?
SexKitten: Yes.
Miri_lvr_69: Ooh, I would just love to—
SC: Focus on the wager, girls. You can gush about how you’d love to bend over for the Master later.
SexKitten: *sigh* Fine. Wager is that the Master gets a new slave girl to fuck on the regular. Our imperious captain has decreed that betting credits just won’t do for this. So we’re betting ‘favors’.
Greasemonkey: What kind of favors?
SC: All kinds, so long as it doesn’t involve us getting written up by fleet. So, nothing that affects the ship, or our readiness while on guard duty.
Fixit: Fine. I’ll wager no new slave.
Miri_lvr_69: Definitely a new harem slave!
Greasemonkey: I’ll go with no new slave.
SexKitten: I’m wagering new slavegirl for the harem. Double or nothing he takes her before they get back to the ship!
SC: I wager that he buys a new slavegirl, but that the slave is not part of the harem.
Greasemonkey: Ooh, bold move.
Fixit: How do we determine the winner?
SexKitten: I’m hooked in to the Nomad comnet, and we’ll confirm once we join up with more of the fleet. No payoff until independent confirmation.
Greasemonkey: Agreed.
Fixit: Sounds good.
Miri_lvr_69: I’m in.
SC: Good. Now, for the next wager—
Simimar stopped typing as he saw new data show up on his sensor readings. Hitting the ship intercom instead of going through the chat, he said, “Look alive, everyone! We’ve got uninvited guests coming out to play! Tarpit just went live. We’re hitting it in six seconds. Prepare for combat!”
Black Star gunboats only had a crew of five. On paper, that translated to a captain, a pilot, a gunner, and two engineers. In reality, fleet doctrine demanded that everyone be cross-trained. Typical duty schedule had two people ‘on’, and the others off-shift at a time. But because of how small the gunboats were, and the fact that they were generally charged with jobs like this, where you got thrown into the mix suddenly, instead of having the time to get to assigned battle stations, doctrine was that whoever was closest to a position when the shit hit the fan had to be able to handle the position until someone more capable arrived, or things went even further down the tubes.
Which is why Simimar was still at the pilot’s controls when they hit the tarpit, along with Isis, the two stealthy gunships already spooling up engines, their sensors scanning for trouble. Looking over the readout, Simimar grimaced. They had expected guests, but this was a bit much!
“We have three X’thari Scout Vessels closing on the bait freighter! Signal Isis, we’re going in! Jester, emergency flash message to Ama-no-Murakumo. Tell them we have engaged a Third of X’thari Scouts.”