Beth finished her lunch in the canteen, willing her stomach to keep down the Diln slop. She dropped her tray in the cleaners and made for the main airlock. Yifritel was bringing in a pair of new arrivals, and she’d have to run them through processing. She felt bile wanting to climb out of her guts at the thought of the bastard. He had it in for humans, and had made that plain to Beth on many occasions, usually through violence. Still, they didn’t pay her to run scared from asshole privateer captains, so she bit down her distaste and went for the airlock.

She made her way through the halls, passing aliens from half a dozen species on her way. Less than reputable ships like this tended to be diverse. She did her best to avoid eye contact, and walked as confidently as she could manage. She’d been on the ship for nearly a year, but she still felt out of place. The self-loathing and shame had faded with time, but the distaste for her alien compatriots had not.

She primed her electro-prod as she approached the main airlock. She keyed a command in, and the doors opened. The sight that lay behind them made her blood run cold. Yifritel stepped out of the airlock, his captures in tow.

He spoke in that same uncanny Standard he always did with her. “Ah, Miss Griffiths, prompt as always.” He turned to look at the woman behind him. “I trust that your…affinity for our latest guest will not impede your work, yes?”

Beth managed to tear her eyes from the woman and give Yifritel a bored look. “They don’t pay me to be political.”

She looked towards the human and the alien of a species she didn’t recognize and jerked her head, indicating that they were to walk ahead of her. The human captive seemed to hesitate, likely distracted by the unfettered hate she was currently looking at her fellow human with, but after a nudge from the unknown alien she started forward.

Yifritel grinned and called after the three. “Of course, I was wrong to doubt you. The Hegemony is lucky to have such a loyal servant. Take care!”

Beth fought down her anger at Yifritel and shock at the new captive, and continued on.

They walked for a time, with Beth gesturing occasionally to tell the pair in front of her where to turn. Eventually, the human captive spoke.

“You’re a fucking disgrace.”

She said those words to Beth not in a hiss of anger or a growl of hate. She spoke the words in a bland, banal sort of way. The way someone might talk about the weather. A simple statement of fact.

Beth ground her teeth. “Quiet.”

The woman gave a plastic smile. “I’ve read plenty of history. We’ve always been ruthless, backstabbing bastards, but it’s a product of our environment. We had to fight to survive on Mother Earth. But in the fleet, things are different. Barely any crime, everyone’s needs are provided for. We have no homeworld, but we have each other. I’d hoped, rather naively, that we’d gotten one good thing out of the Nightmare: a chance to turn over a new leaf, as a species.”

She looked back at Beth. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

She turned her eyes forward again. “Maybe there’s just something rotten inside us. Maybe our ‘environment’ was just an excuse all this time.”

Beth bit down her anger. “Do not speak about things you know nothing about.”

Janea looked back at her in false amusement. “Touch a nerve?”

She eyed Beth up and down. “You’re no spring chicken, are you, granny? You were an adult when the Nightmare happened. Must’ve been hard. I was only a little girl, my memories are hazy and I still see them in my sleep every night.”

She turned back again and leaned in closer, peering at the woman. “What do you see at night that brought you here, I wonder?”

Beth did not answer. The small group reached the processing center. Beth gestured with her prod.

“Clothes, jewelry, everything else. All of it goes in the hamper. Now.”

The pair looked surprised for a moment. Beth primed her electro-prod, and electricity arced over it menacingly. That was all the instructions the alien captive needed, and she started hastily undoing the clasps on her strange robe, slowed somewhat by the trembling in her hands. The human captive raised an eyebrow.

“Ah, yes. Strip the victims first, very efficient. Did you teach them that one? It’s an old human technique, after all. Their evil bastards could learn a lot from our evil bastards.”

Beth rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes. You’re very righteous and all that. Now take your bloody clothes off before I give you more marks than you’ve already got.”

The woman began undoing her jacket. “I’m Janea, by the way. I figured I’d tell you. It throws a wrench in the whole ‘dehumanizing’ part of the process.”

Beth threateningly primed her electro-prod again, and this time it was Janea who rolled her eyes. Beth watched as the pair took what few worldly possessions they had and tossed them into the hamper. The alien had bracelets and other trinkets on her person, which she dropped into the hamper with her robes and undergarments. The human captive had nothing but her clothes and a set of dog tags. She looked at the tags for a long moment, before dropping them in.

The pair stood there, looking at Beth expectantly.

Beth was ever so slightly shaken by the pure, unrestrained hatred in the human woman’s eyes. She also felt something like…pride? She looked the younger woman’s body up and down.

Jesus, girl. He beat the bloody stuffing out of you. It’s a wonder you can stand, nevermind give me a lecture.

Beth jerked her head in gesture again, and the pair of captives made their way out of the room and down a hallway, their captor on their heels. Had this been a ship full of fellow humans, there’d probably have been jeers and wolf whistles. This being an alien ship, there wasn’t much other than the occasional bored glance from passersby. From Janea’s view, she was naked. Exposed. Vulnerable.

From an alien view, she was just a weird bald ape. A weird bald ape without its clothes wasn’t much more interesting than a weird bald ape with its clothes.

The group reached its next destination: a small, suspiciously sterile room.

Janea turned to Beth. “What’s happening to us here?”

Beth was annoyed at herself for answering. She usually just ignored captives, except to give them orders. “You’re getting chipped. It gets jammed in your auditory organ and translates for you. Can’t work if you don’t know what everyone else is yammering on about, after all.”

Janea turned pale, but her face showed no reaction. “Sounds…uncomfortable.”

Beth shrugged. “Not really. I’ve got one in myself. It’s no different than a translation earbud, it’s just…invasive. You don’t feel anything when it makes noise, believe it or not. The Diln are older than dirt. They’ve had a long time to figure tech like this out.”

“No tracking devices in this, I hope?” Janea said with another plastic smile.

Beth just stared blankly.

Janea shrugged. “Well, it was worth hoping.”

Beth gave an actual, genuine snort at that. Even with the absurd circumstances it still felt good to just…shoot the shit, with another human. Even one that loathed her with every fiber of her being.

—

“They couldn’t be bothered with numbing it first?” Janea ground out through the pain as she clutched her ear. Her alien companion was clutching her own head, although she had no visible ear to cup.

Beth snorted again. “They don’t even budget for clothes, why would they budget for pain killers?”

They walked in silence for a short time longer, until they had finally reached their last destination. The cell door to one the female holding pens. While modesty and propriety for their slaves was hardly a concern, many species had…unpredictable reactions when confronted with the opposite sex of their own species. It was best to err on the side of caution.

Beth felt herself wanting to speak, and couldn’t stop herself. “Girl-...Janea. I..didn’t know-...didn’t think…that there’d be human captives. I’m sorry.” She was shocked at the genuineness of the words.

Somehow, Janea looked more filled with hate then she had been before. “Right, of course. I’m not one of ‘them’, right? So now it’s wrong, right? Now it’s happening to real people. You fucking scum-” She went to punch Beth in the face. Beth sidestepped the punch, grabbing Janea and kneeing her in the gut. She shocked her with the prod, long and hard. Then she grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into the room, eventually dumping her in a heap on the floor, in front of the many frightened aliens inside. The alien that had come with Janea scurried past Beth and went to check on Janea.

Beth walked out of the room, trying not to hyperventilate as she locked the door behind her and dashed for the guard’s quarters. She was lucky enough to make it to the head before she vomited.

—

Janea could handle an ass-beating. No one would ever describe her as tough, but she’d had some hard knocks in her time. It would pass.

She could handle being stripped and tossed into a cargo hold like a bag of garbage. She was on the shy side, but at least everyone else in this slave pen was a woman. Well, a female, at any rate.

She could handle meeting that evil, disgusting traitor bitch on this ship.

She could even handle her likely fate of being tortured to death by some vengeful Diln aristocrat. It was preferable to wasting away in some factory.

What she couldn’t handle was the mental image of a helmet visor, covered with human blood. The thought of the lifeless corpse of someone she cared for, drifting for eternity in his rusty tomb. Yet, the intrusive thoughts came all the same.

The visor was the first thing she thought of when she came to from the beating the Diln had given her. She’d tried to distract herself by running her mouth, harassing the traitor. It didn’t work. The visor was seared into her vision. Inescapable. She tried to ignore it.

Ti-Ro gave Janea a wane smile as she came to. “Welcome back. I know it’s not really any of my business, but maybe you should try not pissing off the angry criminal with the electro-prod next time?”

Janea gave an exhausted smile, and was then surprised by the voice in her ear. The translator.

The voice was translating the growls and hisses of a Tlassiopei. “Yes. It is generally better not to antagonize our captors. They largely ignore us if we keep to ourselves.”

Female Tlassiopei looked more or less the same as their male counterparts, only smaller.

Janea put a hand to her ear and grimaced. “Ugh…that’s going to take some getting used to.”

A strange, primate alien whose species Janea didn’t recognize came over to her. She walked on her knuckles, like one of Earth’s extinct great apes, albeit with plumes of feathers on certain parts of her body. “It is unpleasant at first, but it is worth it. I think I would have gone insane had I not been able to talk to the others.”

The “others” approached and peered at the newcomers. They consisted of a Mak Re in a landsuit, another Tlassiopei, and a scrawny rodent-like person of a species she recognized called a Tygvib. Ti-Ro stood up.

“Well, Janea, allow me to introduce you to our new sisters in captivity.” She gestured to the Mak Re. “This is Mem So, our aquatic friend.” She gestured to the two Tlassiopei. “Zrikki and Byatiztet, they’re sisters.” She pointed at the feathered ape woman. “This is Galiwa, she’s a Ponfet. Apparently, she’s from a pre-space civilization too, so I suppose I have that in common with her.”

“And lastly is our small friend here, Zyp.” Ti-Ro turned back to Janea and bared her teeth in a grisly attempt at a human smile. “I hope you get along with them, there isn’t a lot of room in here.”

—

Beth sat up on her cot. Her attempts at sleep had proven even more futile than usual. The familiar faces that plagued her dreams were now plaguing her waking hours too. They looked at her, accusations written on their expressions. She gave the same answer she always did.

The Ivos have to pay. They have to. The Diln are the only ones strong enough to make it happen. The Coalition has its head up its arse, and even if they didn’t, they’re run by the very same species that bowed and scraped to the Ivos. Us humans are too busy wallowing in pathetic self pity and woe to do it ourselves. So, it has to be the Diln. They’re already going to win this war, it’s inevitable, and when they do, the Ivos will be next on the menu. They’ll kill them all, and I’ll be there to see that they give the bastards what’s coming to them. Then no one will ever have to fear them again.

The faces stared back, and gave the same retort they always did.

Then what?

As always, she had no answer for them.

Not that it had mattered before. The faces that gazed in judgment of her all belonged to people long since dead. Ship mates sucked into the void, friends and family reduced to ash and glass. They were not here to give their protests in person. Because the Ivos had murdered them. Thus, the Ivos must pay. That other species might have to suffer to make that happen was of little consequence. Beth did for the victims of the Diln what they had done for humanity as it was incinerated by the Ivos. Which is to say, she did nothing whatsoever.

She’d condemned what was likely hundreds of aliens to Diln enslavement, and she would condemn thousands more, if it was what was needed to advance her position within the Hegemony further. When the time came for the Hegemony to make war on the Ivos, Beth intended to be part of it. By any means necessary.

Hate and vengeance were here fuel, but belief was the engine that consumed it. Specifically, her belief in the Coalition’s ability to defeat the Ivos, or -more accurately- the lack thereof.

The Diln seemed to be the only ones in the Arm who weren’t willing to just pretend the Ivos didn’t exist. She’d visited their space, once. The things she had seen during her time there had convinced her that the Coalition didn’t have a prayer for victory. They’d also convinced her that the Diln were scared shitless, and it wasn’t hard to guess what was scaring them. They were preparing for total war.

There was something between the two species. Every Diln she had spoken to got uncomfortable and tried to change the subject whenever she mentioned the Ivos. She didn’t know what the reasons for the animosity between the two were, and she didn’t particularly care. The Diln were going to war with the Ivos, and Beth intended to do everything in her meager power to see that they won. Humanity, even other species. None of them would ever be safe while the Ivos were still out there, lurking. To end a threat like the Ivos, there was nothing that went ‘too far’.

Nothing.

Beth dug around in her trunk, looking for a familiar weapon. She pulled it out, its weight in her hand was…reassuring. Her granddad had given it to her, when she’d graduated from the Space Force Academy, a lifetime ago. It was an ancient Webley Mk VI Revolver. If family legend was to be believed, it had been carried proudly by her ancestors in the great wars of humanity’s pre-space past. If granddad’s stories were true, many utterly dreadful people had met their end from its barrel. There was one last villain that Beth planned to dispatch with it, once her work was done. A horrific monster who had sent hundreds of people to enslavement or worse. The Ivos had to pay for what they had done. But so did Beth, eventually.

Its weight grew heavier. There was no other reason for her to be alive, while everyone she had known and loved was dead. She would avenge them, and then she would join them. That had been the plan. It had always been the plan.

But then that stupid girl had shown up.

Beth was a monster now, to be sure. But she had been a Space Force officer before that. She had taken an oath, to never let any human being be given up willingly to the dark while she drew breath. Not one.

The faces that plagued her were all long dead, or at least they had been. Now, there was a new face, and it was alive and well, for the moment. It was a face that stared back at her with hate and revulsion, but it was still a human face.

Beth placed the revolver back in her trunk, and went off to the head again.

—

Janea sat on the floor, her arms around her knees, trying and failing to not think of a helmet with a bloody visor. She shivered in the cold. It wasn’t a life-threatening kind of cold, just an unpleasant chill.

What was it Akito had said we’d be if the Diln captured us? “Naked and shivering in their cargo hold”? I didn’t realize he was being literal.

Ti-Ro didn’t seem to be especially bothered by being deprived of her clothing. Janea didn’t know if that was a Zani thing, or just a Ti-Ro thing. The fact that the alien didn’t seem to have any immediately visible reproductive organs made Janea suspect the former.

I suppose if you’ve got nothing to cover up, then being ‘naked’ doesn’t really mean anything.

The other denizens of the slave pen didn’t seem particularly bothered either, but that could just be because they’d had time to get used to it.

The Mak Re, Mem So, made her way over to Janea and (Sat? Squated? Collapsed in a pile of tentacles?) down. One of Mem So’s eyes swiveled to face Janea. A synthetic-sounding voice came from speakers on her landsuit, and Janea heard the translation in her auditory implant.

“Uncomfortable, human? I can relate.”

She gestured to herself with her two ‘arm’ tentacles. “This infernal suit keeps me alive, but it doesn’t keep me comfortable. I’m lucky my kind has no vertebrae, otherwise this exhausting gravity would have snapped it in two.”

Janea couldn’t help but smile at the friendly alien. “Yeah, I’m uncomfortable. I don’t know about the rest of you, but us humans are…attached to our clothes, I guess you could say. I’m just feeling a little bit, uh, exposed.”

It was difficult to get a read of the giant octopus’s body language, but she seemed to think on it for a moment.

“I see. I think I can understand. We Mak Re do not wear clothing, but we do adorn ourselves with other things. Females such as myself wear piercings in our lower mantles, gifts from our bondmates. For a bonded female to appear in public without her bond mate’s piercings was considered quite scandalous in my ancestor’s time. I thought such things old-fashioned, but…I suppose it has left me feeling a little ‘exposed’ myself.”

She brought the tips of her ‘arm’ tentacles up to her sides, and looked at the floor.

“He made them for me himself. He was the traditional sort, you see. It took him [.87 Earth years], he grew the coral culture himself, shaped them. Slowly and carefully. They were beautiful, more lovely than any I’d ever seen at a jeweler’s. He’d told me he’d started making it the moment we started courting, he’d known I was the one the first time he’d laid his eyes on me.”

Her alien eyes seemed to fill with mischief.

“Flatterer.” She slowly moved her arms away from her sides. “They were all that I had left of him. Now they’ll be pawned off as spoils by some halfwit pirate.”

“I’m sorry.” Janea said.

The alien swiveled both eyes to look at the human. “Why would you apologize? You did not steal my piercings.”

Janea was a little surprised. “Oh, uh, sor-er, I mean…it’s just an expression. I’m not apologizing per se, just…I don’t really know why we say it.”

The alien’s eyes seemed almost amused. “I’ll take your word for it.” She looked at the floor again.

“Supposedly, when I am sold I’ll likely be bound for an ocean world. The Diln have an aquatic race as a client species, and they have a need for laborers that can live in the underwater part of their cities.”

She looked back at Janea. “I wonder where they’ll take you?”

Janea gave an empty smile. “Some Diln aristocrat’s palace. Apparently, there are still those in the Hegemony who hold a grudge for us humans. I guess they don’t think we’ve suffered enough already, so they’ll make up the difference by torturing me.”

Mem So looked startled by that. “I…that’s…I don’t…”

She looked into the human’s eyes. “...I’m sorry.”

—

The smell of blood was what woke him. Specifically, the smell of his blood. The first thought that struck him was, I have an awful headache. The second thought that struck him was, I must be alive if I have a headache. It was a somewhat surprising discovery. When the missile had struck Allie dead-on, he’d thought that’d be the end.

Must’ve been a disabler missile.

He couldn’t see a thing out of his helmet. His suite’s battery was mostly dead. He went to undo the seals on his helmet, hesitating for just a moment as he worried that he might be in vacuum. Then he shrugged mentally. He’d already have died if the ship had no atmosphere. He unsealed his helmet and tossed it lightly away, his eyes coming into focus as he watched it float. He sized up the control room. For a ship that had been hit by a missile, it wasn’t in the worst of shape.

“Janea? Ti-Ro?” he called out.

Don’t know why I bothered. If they were alive and conscious they would have tried to wake me up by now.

He drifted for a few moments more, before his eyes settled on a small container magnetically locked to the floor.

He wiggled his way over to it. “Snowy!”

He tapped on the glass, and the exhausted dog opened its eyes with great effort, and its tail wagged tiredly.

Poor girl must’ve screeched her throat raw.

She was covered in her own excretions, but she was alive. He popped the sealed door open, and recoiled at the stench.

“Good Lord!” he put his nose in the crook of his elbow.

Snowy wiggled her way out of the kennel and then floated, not bothering to try staying awake.

“You, my friend, need a bath. But we’ll need gravity for that first.” He floated over to his pilot’s console, and was surprised when it turned on without issue.

The reactor was intact and they just…left it?

True, Allie herself was barely worth her mass in scrap, but her internal components still had value. It was a bit surprising that pirates wouldn’t try to make a profit off of the ship.

Well, I suppose it is a flying radiological disaster waiting to happen. I guess some other species aren’t as cavalier as us about that sort of thing. Still, they burned munitions on us, they would’ve wanted to salvage something of value out of-...SHIT!

He opened the internal camera system, and flipped through. Not a trace of Janea or Ti-Ro.

They must have taken them, but…why leave me behind?

He caught sight of his helmet floating past him, its visor soaked in blood. His mind raced.

Of course, if they were slave hunting, then they wouldn’t bother with a dead or dying man, although it’s strange that they didn’t take the time to finish me off, or Allie for that matter. Maybe they figured out what kind ship they were standing on and decided to leave in a hurry?

He rejected that idea. While it might have been true, surely they would have put a few rounds through Allie to hide the evidence, at the very least? They hadn’t, which means that they must intend some sort of purpose for the ship. Lance checked his instruments, and what he saw had answered his questions. Allie was completely stationary. This was more or less an impossible task in Real Space, where objects were always moving relative to something else, but things were different in Dark Space. There were no celestial bodies or other significant sources of mass to be found, so objects that came to a complete stop would remain stationary. Forever. This was a boon for the various criminal sorts of the galaxy, as various illicit goods could be stashed away for safekeeping at specific coordinates.

The Allie had probably been flagged for salvage by a dedicated salvage ship, and the actual pirate boat had gone on its way with all of the best loot. Which meant that there would be another pirate ship coming here, soon. Lance mulled it over.

If they have a support ship they can rely on, then they’re definitely not independent actors. There’s almost certainly some kind of home base or mothership. That’s where they took Janea and Ti-Ro. So, that’s where I’m going.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

He turned to Snowy. “Sorry girl, the bath will have to wait. We’re going trapping instead.”

—

Lrgfrr studied his terminal screen with his eye, the highly developed organ swiveling as it read the data.

Where did they dig up this fossil? He thought in amusement.

He was a Krrg officer, a concept that would have been laughable before the Supreme Commander had ended a millennia of societal decay. The species had been regarded as little better than animals by the Diln for most of post-Calamity history. However, the Supreme Commander’s insatiable appetite for sapient talent had led him to pass an edict that loosened all restrictions on recruitment for the Empire, in both military and civilian positions.

He’d pitched it as a “return to form”. After all, the ancient Empire had not been so foolish to allow talented individuals to go to waste because they were not of the Diln species. Or so he claimed. So little record existed of the pre- and early post-Calamity times that history could be whatever powerful men wrote it to be. For all anyone knew, the client races might have had it worse under the ancient Empire. However, that didn’t matter to the client races. What mattered to them was that they now had a higher quality of life then most of them would have ever hoped to have known only twenty years ago.

Even the Diln were happy with it, they saw it as more of the Supreme Commander’s ruthless pragmatism, the same pragmatism that he had dragged the Empire back into greatness with. The only Diln who minded were Diln supremacists and the aristocracy, but the Commander had mounted enough of their heads on pikes to keep them quiet.

Once again, he proves his genius. I’m just a dumb little Krrg and even I can see it. He wins the loyalty of the client races, massively expands his talent pool, and crosses another item off of his list of reforms. And after all of that he manages to be in a better political position than he was before. Lrgfrr gave the Krrg equivalent of an amused half-smile at his own thoughts

Lrgfrr had struggled and fought and suffered from the moment he had hatched, as was the lot of Krrg. He would have lived a meaningless life and died a meaningless death, just like trillions of Krrg before him. But then the Commander had changed everything. He could not undo a millenia of oppression and discrimination with a click of his claws, but he could give the Krrg a fighting chance. It was a chance Lrgfrr had made full use of.

Lrgfrr turned to his helmsman, and spoke in words that sounded like gravel being crushed.

“Take us in to dock with the salvage.”

He gazed at the readouts on his screen again. Not worth trying to salvage the whole ship, not for something that primitive. We’ll just strip all of the valuable components.

—

Lrgfrr’s ship docked with the salvage.

“Spin us up.” he ordered.

His own ship fired its maneuvering thrusters, and simulated gravity returned to both ships as they began to spin end over end. He and the other three Krrg that made up his crew went to don their vacsuits and board the salvaged ship. They went through the airlock and made their way to the control room. Lrgfrr became suspicious when he arrived.

“There was supposed to be a human corpse here.” he said aloud.

“Maybe they already spaced the body?” His second in command, Crrgiida suggested.

Lrgfrr thought on that for a moment. “Perhaps. We must search the rest of the ship.”

The words of an alien tongue came over the intercom, and Lrgfrr heard his translator speak inside his auditory organ.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, since all of the doors are locked.”

Lrgfrr cursed himself for his carelessness. “Let me guess, you’re our missing human?”

“Got it in one little guy. Now, I’m going to open the inner door of the main entrance, and you and your people are going to toss your weapons in there. As you can probably imagine, if you try anything funny I will cut off the life support for that room, and then you will all die once your suits’ oxygen runs out. Considering your profession, I can’t say I’d feel too badly about it. So, I would advise against it.”

Lrgfrr growled in disgust. “We are soldiers of the Diln Hegemony. We will not disarm ourselves on the order of enemy combatants. I don’t know what lies you humans have been fed about the proud and noble Krrg, but we are no longer the sniveling cowards lesser races claim us to be. We will die before we suffer the dishonor of-”

His sentence was cut off by a laser beam searing through his chest from behind.

Crrgiida stood over him, and she looked down at his corpse grimly.

“Sorry sir, but I’m fine staying a sniveling coward. They tend to live longer.”

She picked up his weapon, and tossed it into the open airlock, the other two crewman doing the same.

“Wonderful. It’s good to be dealing with such sensible people.” The voice said.

“What do you want?” Crrgiida asked the voice.

A terminal suddenly powered on. “Enter the access and security codes for your ship here.”

Crrgiida blinked in annoyance. “What guarantee do I have that you won’t just kill us anyway?”

“I don’t know. My word of honor? Look, the only guarantee I can offer is that you will die if you don’t give me the codes. If you do give them to me, there’s a chance you live through this. Certain death, or possible death. Run that equation through your wonderful little Krrg survival sense, and let me know what it has to say.”

Crrgiida mulled it over. “What happens to us after we give you the codes?”

“You all pile into the lander, and I leave you here.”

Crrgiida hissed. “So you just leave us for dead anyway? No deal.”

The sound of the life support turning off was deafening. “Are you sure about that?”

Crrgiida felt a flush of terror, but fought it down. “Either we suffocate now, or suffocate a few days from now. Either way our fate is the same. No. Deal.”

“The lander has four days worth of oxygen for three humans. For three Krrg, that’s probably a week’s worth, at bare minimum. It’ll probably be more if you’re careful. If I actually manage to survive my plan, I’ll come back and pick you up. This is my only lander, after all. If I die, which I probably will, then you’ve still got plenty of time for a ship to detect your rescue beacon and pick you up. Probably.”

Crrgiida was almost amused. “You are not doing a very good job of selling this.”

“I’m not very good at lying. All of this is just the truth. If I have to kill you, I will, but otherwise I don’t really have any desire to. I can probably access the ship without your codes, but it will be a pain in the ass, so…”

Crrgiida went over to the terminal and began entering her information.

“If I die because of this, human, I will kill you in my next reincarnation.” she said.

—

Beth entered the main security room, and began chatting with the Krrg watching the security camera footage.

“Hey Trrn. Any trouble in the pens?”

“No, it’s as quiet as usual-hey, wait. Why are you here?” He said, turning to face the human.

Beth answered by putting a knife through his eye. The unfortunate Krrg died in a series of spasms. Beth shoved him out of the way and took his seat. She cracked her knuckles and went to work.

“Alright little girl, show them what us monkeys can do…”

—

In the days she had been a captive here, Janea had come to loathe the monotony of the slave pen. Absolutely nothing happened here, and it drove her to distraction. Which was why, when the door to the pen suddenly swung open, it was almost deafening. The other captives sat up to look at the open door expectantly, but no one came through. Her curiosity getting the better of her, Janea walked over and peered out the door. No one could be seen, except for captives in the other pens doing the same thing she was.

She turned back to the others. “C’mon, this is our chance.”

Zyp looked frightened, and wrung her paws. “What if it is a trick?”

“Who cares? We won’t get another opportunity like this!”

She scampered out the door, and her more hesitant companions followed her eventually. A small crowd of recently-freed captives now gathered in the main hallway. Then the main doors swung open. As if someone had announced the start of a race, the captives began running, scurrying, slithering, and crawling their way to the exit as fast as they could.

“Wait!” Janea shouted. “We have to stay together!”

She was nearly knocked over by a big Strit that slapped her aside as it clattered for the exit as fast as its legs could take it.

Ti-Ro and Zrikki helped Janea to her feet. She rubbed her head. “So much for solidarity…”

“We need a plan.” Ti-Ro said.

Janea nodded. “We’re on a spaceship. There’s only one plan with a chance of working: capture the ship.”

Byatiztet and Zrikki looked at each other, and then at Janea.

Byatiztet spoke. “That will not be easy. There are many slavers, and we are few and…” She glanced at the last of the freed captives running out the door. “...disorganized.”

Galiwa stepped forward. “If it is warriors you need, my [Leader/Protector/Husband] will be of great assistance.”

Janea turned to the alien. “Look, I’m sure your man is a great guy, but I don’t think one person will make up the difference here.”

Galiwa looked unphased. “If you had met my [Leader/Protector/Husband], you would disagree.”

Zyp stepped up. “The more the merrier, I say. Get me to a terminal and I can find your bondmate, young one.”

Galiwa looked like she wanted to kiss the little rodent woman.

“There is a machine at the main entrance.” Ti-Ro said, pointing.

The group wandered over. To her annoyance, Zyp found that she could not reach the terminal. She looked up at Zrikki.

“Could I get a lift here?” The Tlassiopei picked up the tiny alien and held her in front of the terminal, where she began typing.

“Ah, Diln ‘security’, as embarrassing as ever.”

Within minutes, the Tygvib had the information they were looking for.

“There is no reference to a ‘Ponfet’ species to be found here, but there is someone labeled under ‘Proto-Species 4’ who is locked in one of the high-security cells in the male pens. They’re not networked, so the benefactor who opened the cells for us would not have been able to free him remotely. He is likely still in the cell.”

“That is him, I’m sure of it!” Galiwa said. “They would not place my [Leader/Protector/Husband] under standard security. It would not hold him.”

“Ok, translator, can we just settle on ‘husband’?” Janea said aloud in annoyance.

To her surprise, she actually got a reply. “Command Processed.”

“Oh…thanks?” Janea said in bewilderment.

The rest of the group looked at Janea like she was insane.

“Uh...carry on.” she said.

Galiwa shook herself. “As I was saying, my husband is almost certainly the one in that cell. If we break him out, he can help us fight our way to the control room of this ship, I promise.”

The group looked at Janea.

The human shrugged. “Sure, what the hell. It’s not like I have a better idea.”

—

The lifeless corpse of a Diln guard collapsed to the ground as Zrikki and Byatiztet finished strangling him. Ti-Ro snatched up his stun baton.

Zyp consulted the pocket computer she’d stolen along the way, and squeaked self assuredly. “It’s just up ahead.”

The group got to the door and Zyp began fiddling with the door control.

Galiwa leaned in and peered at the controls. “Can you get it open?”

Zyp squeaked in laughter. “ ‘Can you get it open?’ Oh, you’re hysterical, child. Just watch my back.”

Less than a minute later, Zyp proved her own point and the door slid open.

“Kaleet!” Galiwa shouted excitedly. She slammed into a massive wall of muscle and hugged it. Huge hands stroked her head plumage tenderly. A deep baritone could be heard.

“It is good to see you alive, love.”

The huge male ducked under the door frame, and stepped out. Janea felt herself involuntarily gulp in fear.

“Ok, I stand corrected. One guy can definitely make a difference.” She said meekly.

Ti-Ro was studying the man in excitement. “Fascinating! I have not seen such extreme sexual dimorphism among any of the sapient species I have read of, this is truly amazing.”

Janea looked over the huge alien, and decided that she couldn’t help but agree.

Ponfets had opposable thumbs on both their hands and feet, just like a chimpanzee or gorilla. Galiwa seemed to prefer walking on her knuckles, but she seemed to be fully capable of walking on her hind legs as well. However, her male counterpart seemed to be much better adapted to walking on two legs, with an extra toe on the back of his foot giving him greater stability, and much more powerful leg muscles.

Standing at his full height, he easily exceeded two meters. He seemed to be pure muscle, and looked like he could snap his comparatively scrawny female counterpart in half. Ti-Ro was right, this was quite extreme sexual dimorphism. They almost looked like different species.

The male, ‘Kaleet’ was apparently his name, shoved Galiwa behind him protectively, and then the plumage on his shoulders extended out into a very wide display. It was almost like a peacock's feathers, but more…threatening.

“What are these creatures, Galiwa?” He demanded.

Galiwas stepped back out from behind him, and gently placed a hand on his forearm.

“These are my friends, love. They helped me to free you. Not all Sky People are bad, some of them are good too!”

The feathers retracted, and Kaleet bowed deeply. “Please forgive this insult, I was unaware of these truths.”

He turned to Galiwa. “What of the children, and what of Taziya and Laree? That infernal stun weapon put me down, and I woke up here. Please, what is their fate?”

Galiwa bowed her head. It seemed shedding tears was a physiological trait the Ponfet shared with Humanity.

“My Co-Wives took terrible wounds in the fighting. They were deemed too injured to work, and the children were deemed too young. They were…’spaced’. The Diln sent them out to suffocate in the empty realm beyond the sky.”

Kaleet shed tears of his own, and then he roared a terrible roar of anguish and despair. He slammed his fists into a wall, over and over again.

Galiwa grabbed onto one of his massive bicep analogues and tried to stop him, but it was like a ragdoll trying to stop a gorilla. “My love, stop at once, you will injure your hands!”

Kaleet obeyed, and clenched his reddened fists at his sides. Janea snuck a look at the wall, and was a little terrified to discover the massive dent that had been put in the solid steel.

“Blood.” The huge male growled. “Blood will be shed this day. I will be coated in the innards of these butchers of babes and helpless women before this day is done, this I swear on my fathers.”

Mem So turned to look at the other aliens.

“I think we have found our battering ram.”

—

A battered, elderly human freighter with a jury-rigged fission engine limped its way into the slaver’s base, although “base” might have been too generous a term. It consisted of an old Diln bulk freighter converted into a slave transport, and around nine raider and support ships. It was the location, not the hardware, that made it a good base. It was located in a small bit of empty space inside a huge formation of particle clouds. It had been discovered through sheer dumb luck by a pirate ship decades ago, and the valuable location had changed hands many times over the years. Nowadays, it belonged to privateers on the Diln’s payroll.

Three of the smaller raider ships went out to intercept the freighter, although they shied away when they saw the plume of lethal radiation being shot out of its drive cone as it decelerated. When it finished spitting out its radioactive hose and came to a stop, the raiders began their approach again, hailing the ship on an open channel and demanding that it identify itself.

Unbeknownst to the raiders, they were being watched. A tiny camera drone recorded them and, with great difficulty, beamed the footage back through the particle cloud towards its mothership. It was an old fleet tender. It was a proper military model, so it still retained some surprisingly potent armament for a logistical ship. Three light automatic railguns could unleash a hail of metal, ripping lightly armored targets to shreds. It was these weapons that Lance was counting on.

The three raiders took up positions around the freighter, locking their weapons on it and continuing to hail it. Lance waited patiently as the camera drone fed data to his targeting computer. He’d have gotten his ass kicked if he attacked head on, he had no armor and limited weapons. But an ambush? That was more doable.

The targeting computer chimed its completion, and Lance opened fire. Out of the particle cloud, a hail of rounds came flying out at incredible velocity. Rail gun rounds weren’t invisible, but they were hard to notice if you weren’t looking for them. The three raiders might very well be surprised. The other six ships (not including the mothership) might have time to react. In anticipation of this, Lance had preprogrammed firing solutions for all nine targets.

It all happened in less than a minute. One instant, the privateer raiders were still threatening the Albatross. The next, they were silent, shredded by a hail of rail gun rounds. The savvier among the captains of the other six ships immediately fired their thrusters, seeking to avoid the incoming fire they suspected. Four of the six captains were not that savvy, and their ships were destroyed and disable by the hail.

The remaining two ships burned at maximum tolerable acceleration, firing wildly into the particle cloud. Lance took his time, trusting in his concealment as he waited for new firing solutions. The computer chimed again, and the hail went out again. One ship managed to avoid it, but the other was completely annihilated in an antimatter explosion when a lucky hit breached its containment. The ship that avoided it fired a burst into the particle cloud, and the ship’s automatic systems managed to dodge the rounds.

Shit! He’s figured out my position. Lance thought.

He seized the helm and burned hard. He shot out of the particle cloud. He swiveled the ship and fired another volley, then turned back and burned again. The volley accomplished its purpose: throwing off the enemy’s aim. The return fire from the enemy ship went wide as it hastily burned to dodge. However, the success was short-lived. The enemy ship released all of its missiles, and they came streaking towards Lance’s captured ship. Fortunately for the beleaguered human pilot, he had anticipated this. Albatross’s engines roared to life as her computer responded to Lance’s remote commands. Her point defense cannons joined his weapons as the two ships sent a barrage at the incoming weapons. All of the missiles were destroyed, save one. It was a disabler missile, little more than a chemical explosive warhead, more useful for knocking out the crew than doing actual damage. Fortunately, Lance was not knocked unconscious this time, though he almost blacked out as the ship spun like a top from the explosion.

As the ship struggled to stop its spin with its maneuvering thrusters, Lance was giving remote orders to Albatross. The stubborn tramp freighter fired short, controlled bursts, fighting to provide covering fire for its companion ship as it righted itself. The low muzzle velocity of the PD guns meant they were of little threat to the privateer, which dodged them easily. However, it was enough to keep the enemy from getting a clear shot for a few more moments, and that was all Lance needed. His own ship righted itself, and his three railguns joined their firepower with Albatross’s. Against two separate sources of fire, the privateer found it near impossible to dodge, and even more difficult to aim. Eventually, it was ripped to shreds by a barrage of railgun fire.

“[All targets accounted for].” The ship’s computer stated blandly.

Lance let out an exhausted breath.

Holy shit. I am one lucky son of a bitch.

—

Kaleet seized the Strit’s pincer as it went for his throat. With a terrible roar, he grabbed both ends of the pincer and ripped it in half. He took the two prongs and stabbed them through the Strit’s carapace, and the big insectoid let out a horrible noise that was like nails on a chalkboard as it died in agony.

Once again, Janea found herself splashed with alien viscera. “You know, I didn’t think he was being literal when he said he was going to be ‘coated in their innards’.”

Ti-Ro looked at her in amusement. “What are you complaining about? He’s winning!”

Janea shrugged and laughed. “I don’t know. I’m butt ass naked, shivering in fear, and cowering behind the big, strong man. It just feels a little…regressive.”

“Who else are we supposed to cower behind? He can dent steel with his fists!”

“Fair enough.”

The small group passed over the Strit, and Zrikki gleefully snatched up the fallen alien’s pulse pistol. “Finally, some real weapons!”

She gripped it experimentally and grimaced. “Terrible grip, though…”

Byatiztet snorted in amusement. “What do you expect? It had pincers.”

“Perhaps I would have an easier time with it…” Mem So mused.

“Silence yourselves! Someone approaches.” Zyp said.

Janea did indeed hear footsteps when she listened for them. Kaleet flexed his hands, and then his arm shot around the corner like lightning as he seized the approaching person.

“Wait!” Beth croaked out, clutching at the massive hand that had seized her throat.

Kaleet peered at his victim, then he turned to Galiwa. “This creature has the look of one of our companions.”

He turned around and looked at Janea. “Is this female affiliated with you?”

Janea looked at the other woman with hate. “No, not in the least.”

“Please…” Beth wheezed out.

Janea grinned wickedly. “I’m sure your victims said something similar to you, didn’t they?”

“...talk…” The older woman managed to get out.

Janea rolled her eyes. “Fine, let’s hear what the evil bitch has to say.”

Kaleet let go of her throat and the woman collapsed to the floor.

After a coughing fit, Beth struggled to her feet and looked at Janea with a tired smile.

“I’m sure you’ll be sorry to hear it, little girl, but you are affiliated with me now. Who do you think opened the doors?”

Janea ground her teeth. “Right, because now the awful things you do are happening to a human, so that makes it wrong. I don’t know why I bothered talking to-”

“I wasn’t finished, you idiot. I’ve disabled comms and internal cameras for this ship. The rest of the flotilla won’t know what’s going on for the moment. You need to seize the control room and get the ship moving. I’ll get back on the computer system and try to keep the changes I made from being undone. I’ll be in comms with you.”

“Why would I ever trust you?” Janea asked

“Because you don’t have a choice. Now get moving, little girl.” She turned to leave, then wheeled back around. “Oh, and take this.” She handed her an antique firearm.

Janea looked at her incredulously. “You’re joking, right? What am I supposed to do with this, club them to death?”

“It’s a gun. Cock the hammer, pull the trigger. It killed people just fine three hundred years ago, it can do it just fine now.”

She handed off the revolver and all of her extra ammunition, and then left without a word.

“We’re just letting her go?” Ti-Ro said.

Janea ground her teeth again. “She was right. We don’t have a choice.”

—

The group made their way through the decks of the ship, fighting through any slavers that tried to stop them.

“Janea, some kind of battle just happened outside the ship. All of the other nearby ships just went dark.”

“It must be some kind of Coalition patrol…” Janea mused to herself.

“Your guess is as good as mine. The main point is that it’s damn good luck for us. If you manage to take the control room, you’re home free.”

Janea had stepped over the corpses of slaves and slavers alike. The other escapees were running around like chickens with their heads cut off. It would have been better for them to stay together as one cohesive group, but at least this “method” was keeping most of the ship’s crew occupied.

She rounded the corner and stopped in her tracks. Alright, the operative word is “most”.

It was Yifritel, and a dozen Krrg and Diln fighters.

“If it isn’t my favorite slave. How unfortunate that I have to kill you now.”

Janea dove for cover, and her companions did the same as a barrage of laser pulses and mag rifle slugs came down on them. The small group was outnumbered and outgunned, but they fought back as best they could. The Diln provided covering fire as the Krrg advanced. The little aliens rushed the escapees, diving over their cover. Half of them died just trying to get there, but when they vaulted over the cover they wreaked havoc.

They gunned down Zrikki, and her sister wailed in anguish and melted the Krrg that had shot her sibling with her laser carbine. She wailed and sobbed as she was covered in the Krrg’s blood. Another Krrg almost had her, but was seized by Kaleet. The huge alien gripped the smaller one with one hand, and bashed its skull in with the other. Once his current victim was down, Kaleet went in search of another. He dragged one that was grappling with his mate, dragging it off of her and caving its chest in.

Janea surveyed the scene. Zyp sat nursing a laser wound to her thigh. Byatiztet cradled her sister’s head in her lap and sobbed. Ti-Ro fired back blindly with her stolen weapon. Kaleet fretted over Galiwa. All of this was done while cowering behind cover, the superior Diln firepower forcing them to stay down.

We’re in trouble.

Then the Diln fire abruptly stopped, and shifted as they fired down a corridor to their left. Janea didn’t know or care what they were shooting at.

“Now’s our chance, hit them!”

The group let out ragged return fire. Caught in a crossfire, the Diln were quickly gunned down. As silence fell over the skirmish, Janea cautiously rose from cover, shuddering as her bare feet stepped through puddles of blood and other unfortunate fluids. She saw Yifritel lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

“Ah, the lovely Janea. I was just about to-”

Janea put a round through his head with her revolver. She wasn’t interested in what the scum had to say.

She moved over to the corridor that the cross fire had come from. She leveled her revolver, her hand shaking as she took cover behind the corner.

“Whoever’s out there, show yourself, or I start shooting!” she called.

“Janea?” a heartbreakingly familiar voice said.

Janea felt her heart stop. She rounded the corner and saw him, then nearly tackled him to the ground.

“Lance!” she could barely hold back the sobs.

She buried her face in his shoulder. “...you’re alive.” she whispered.

The pilot was thrown for a loop. Janea was covered in alien viscera, had just threatened to kill him, and was displaying more emotion than he had ever seen her display before. Oh, and she was also buck-ass nude.

Needless to say, it made for an awkward hug.

Nevertheless, there was so much genuine, desperate warmth in the embrace that he couldn’t help but return it.

“I’m alive.” He confirmed.

He wrenched away from her, and looked her up and down. “I’m not so sure I can say the same about you, though. You look like you just rose from the dead.”

She gave the warmest smile he’d ever seen her give, so warm it nearly dried up the tears that were still falling.

“You’re one to talk...” she said, smiling even wider.

Lance coughed. “Not to ruin the moment…” He looked away pointedly. “...but could I interest you in a jacket that’s too big for you?” It was hard to tell under the alien viscera, but he was pretty sure she was turning red.

“Uh…yeah, I’d like that.”

He undid the zipper and handed the garment to her.

She looked like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to smile or cry even harder as she wrapped it around herself.

“It’s good to have you back, Lance.”

He grinned. “Yeah, we’ll see how long you say that. You’re the one who has to clean the alien guts off of my favorite jacket.”

She took the ammo she had been clutching in her hand, and put it in the jacket’s pocket. Then, she reloaded. Lance watched her load the antique weapon in amusement.

“You have the weirdest adventures when I’m gone. Where did you even get that?”

“You’re one to talk. What was your plan here, single-handedly capture the entire ship and rescue Ti-Ro and I?”

“...Maybe.”

“I’m not going to pretend like it didn’t make me happy to hear you say that, but you’re still an idiot.

“I’ll take what I can get.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve got a fight to finish here, so-”

“Janea!” she heard in her ear.

“What?” She said.

It was Beth. “They figured out where I rerouted control to. They’ve sent a team to put me down.”

“Alright, we’re coming to bail you out.”

“Negative. No point. Get to the control room and finish taking the ship. I’ll hold them down here as long as I can. And before you say it, I know it’s not enough to make up for…everything. Just get out of here alive. Get back home to the fleet and live your life. Do that for me. Please.”

Janea didn’t know what to say. “...I will.”

“Good. I’ve locked the ship’s controls. The passcode is the Diln alphabet phonetic equivalent of ‘Sierra Tango Echo Victor Echo November’, did you get that?”

“...Steven?” Janea said.

She heard a laugh over the comm. “Yeah, that’s it. Don’t ask, no time. Good luck, little girl.”

The comm cut out.

“Who was that?” Lance asked.

Janea smiled sadly. “Some tough old bitch. Let’s get to the control room and finish this.”

—

The Diln captain of the slave ship was absolutely inconsolable with rage.

“What do you mean it’s ‘locked’? It’s our ship! UNLOCK IT!”

The Krrg tech struggled not to wet itself and scurried back to its terminal, where it tried and failed to unlock the control systems.

One of the Diln officers called out. “Sir! Motion detectors picking up something outside the main doors.”

The captain fumed, but was still coherent enough to give orders. “Arm yourselves, everyone. We’ll show them who the masters of this Arm are.”

Everyone in the room trained their weapons on the door…and then nothing happened.

The captain looked over to his officer. “What was it, a false alarm?”

The officer was as confused as everyone else. “I don’t know what to say sir, it’s saying there are at least seven individuals outside of the doors. Perhaps it has a malfunction or-”

The quiet, but painfully noticeable sound of the air circulation turning off could be heard.

The captain raged. “Have they no honor? Open the doors!”

“Sir, we can’t!”

“Then blow them open!”

“We have no explosives-”

“Then cut it open with lasers, damn you!”

Then, a very unfamiliar sound could be heard. The air circulation hadn’t just been turned off. It had been reversed.

The captain knew some small measure of the terror he had inflicted on his victims.