Linora moaned a little, two gunmetal fingers stroking deep into her core as she watched the hologram before her. It showed Quinn Hall, naked on a couch as Scarlet knelt before him and swallowed his cock. "Close..." the image of the mercenary groaned, "Such a good mouth, Kaydia. Ah! So... close..."
She stared at the holographic assassin's face, lost in passion as she fucked the mercenary's cock with her mouth, and her own metallic fingers worked faster within her drenched folds. Another moan escaped her lips as she felt a burning pressure building within her and imagined it was Kaydia's tongue instead of her fingers.
"So... will I have... to punish... you?" Quinn gasped out. Quentin gasped out.
She'd recognized him in the skimmer, of course. He'd changed some, since their last encounter. The one that had cost her a hand and nearly her life. But not so much that she didn't recognize her first lover. She'd even considered killing him then, but hesitated. He was fast, and skilled, and she wasn't sure she could have taken him even with surprise.
But, right now? She'd be willing to take him. Take both of them. Memories of stolen trysts in the order mingled with the surveillance footage she was watching, making her imagine Quentin driving into her from behind while Kaydia's cunning tongue... oh, yes... her tongue... "Aah!"
She bit her lip, arching her hips into her hand as Quentin's back arched and he drove his meat into Kayida's throat. "KAYDIA!" They both screamed the name, her voice breaking on her orgasm as the holographic mercenary sprayed his cum deep into the assassin's throat. Finally, exhausted, Linora slumped back in her chair.
"Quentin Hall," she whispered, reaching out to run her glistening metal fingers through the hologram. "And Kaydia. My, but this is getting better and better..."
Kaydia rose from the seat and stretched, contorting her figure delightfully. “So, how long is the trip to Procopia?”
Quentin checked the readings on the console “We got a couple hours.” He traced her figure with a leer, “Got any ideas on how to spend them?”
“One or two,” she said, trailing a couple fingers along his jaw. “Got any food on board? Between the fights and the sex, I am famished.”
“Mostly prepack, I'm afraid, since it stores better. But I've got a small supply of fresh foods as well, in case I feel like cooking." He rose and took her hand. "Come on. I'll show you."
As much fun as it would have been to cook a meal together, they settled on prepack dish. In this case, reconstituted beef broth, with flavored protein cubes and freeze-dried vegetables.
Simple, hearty, and, most importantly, largely edible.
Across the table, over their meals, Quentin watched Kaydia eat. Even with everything he’d discovered, everything she’d told him, mysteries lied beneath surface.
“You didn’t choose to leave the Order of the Unseen?”
“Well, no. I guess not.” Kaydia offered a sheepish smile and a shrug. “Does that matter?”
He reached for her hand. “You could come back. Maybe not exactly the same way, but…you could be a Shadow, like me.”
“Go back to the Unseen? Quentin, I can’t. I’m not a Justiciar.” She stirred a piece of beef around her bowl. “I’d follow you to the ends of the galaxy, if you asked. But I can’t be something I’m not.”
“There is no one right way to be a Justiciar,” Quentin argued, crooking his head to meet her eyes.
“Perhaps, but there are wrong ways to be one. And I’ve done every one of them,” She looked up at him, flashing a cheeky grin, “Now.”
“It’s not too late.” He traced her knuckles with his thumb. “Besides, I could use someone like you as back up.”
“Couldn’t I back you up as a freelancer? I mean, you trust me, don’t you?”
Spooning up the last of his stew he shoved the bowl aside. “Of course I trust you.”
“Then stop lecturing me.” The words were serious, but her eyes were playful, and she gave him a thoughtful, inviting smile. “I thought you were going to save my soul through sex.”
He released a short chuckle, then grabbed her wrist and pulling her to his lap. “You think it will work?” She answered in a kiss, hungering lips forcing his open as well. As her tongue slipped between his lips, her hands explored his chest, playfully working at the buttons of his shirt. He responded by tugging at the hem of her blouse, pulling it up so his fingertips could explore the smooth skin of her back.
With a subtle shudder in the engine, the ship dropped out of hyperspace. "I should head up to the cockpit," he remarked, eyes lingering on Kaydia. "We need to check..." The words died away as she pulled off her top and tossed it away. Her eyes didn’t leave his as she reached behind her back, and unhooked her bra, strappings sliding down her arms and breasts slipping free of the cups.
"Well," he grinned, "maybe it can wait..."
Things progressed at a deliberate pace, each wanting to linger over the other as they kissed and touched and explored. Soon his shirt was open to the waist and bare skin brushed against bare skin. Teeth and tongue worked down her throat and shoulders. Concentrating on her throaty sounds of encouragement, he almost didn't notice the jolt.
"What was that?" Kaydia asked, pushing away and looking around.
"I... don't know," he responded, looking around as well. "Maybe the thrust regulators? Or the inertial compensators? I..."
The ship lurched again, followed by a metallic clang as something struck the hull. Moments later, scraping could be heard. "Shit!" Quentin declared, looking around frantically as he moved Kaydia from his lap. "Something grabbed us!"
As he rose, the sounds of cutters working at the lock could be heard. "I don't remember –did we bring your gun? If not, there's an arms locker over there." He pointed at a wide door near the fresher. "We're going to be boarded."
Kaydia bent over to scoop up her discard shirt as Quentin pointed out the arms’ locker. Her bra could wait, too much work to put on while they were under attack. Slipping her tank top back on as she made her way to the weapons, taking a moment to pick the best weapon for the situation. She decided on a bo staff and a small blaster, strapping it to her waist.
The ship lurched again, shifting in response to their captor’s ship. Kaydia stumbled, and fell against the hull, uncharacteristic of her usual grace. “We need…gas masks…” Kaydia gasped out.
"Gas masks?" Quentin repeated, momentarily confused. Then the first wave of dizziness hit him, and he sagged against the bulkhead for support. Calling on psionics, he set his lungs to the difficult task of absorbing only oxygen into his bloodstream and his kidneys and liver to filtering the toxins he'd already absorbed. As Kaydia made her way past, heading for the lock, he exhaled a greenish white plume of waste gasses and coma gas. Then, refusing to inhale, he turned to one of the emergency panels.
What came next was painful. Even with his blood richly oxygenated, his empty lungs ached to draw breath. Worse, he could still feel the gas working on him, slowing his actions and fuddling his thoughts. Clearly, it had both contact and inhalation vectors. As he heard the first shots exchanged and heard the first cries of pain and anger, he got the panel open and settled a breather on his face. Fresh oxygen flooded his lungs, letting him temporarily shake the effects of the gas.
The cutters tore a hole in the ship, and poured in through the opening. A green-haired man lead the raid, followed by a handful of others, each wearing a mask over his mouth and nose.
Kaydia hit one of the raiders in the shoulder, and stumbled back several steps, using the bulkhead for support. Her next shot killed her target, but not before several more could close the distance, wielding stun sticks.
She dropped her pistol and brought out her staff, just blocking the first strike, before the second hit her in the side. She gasped, letting out the air she was holding in, and forcing her to take a second breath of the poisoned air. She struck a weak blow to one attacker, who retaliated with a blow of his own, from his stun stick.
He heard Kaydia cry out, felt the stun sticks impacting her as consciousness fled. His heart leapt into his throat, and he mentally repeated the litany as he ignited his plasma blade, struggling for calm. It wasn't easy. Even unconscious her dread and terror burned in his mind, and he shook with adrenaline and rage as the first of the pirates entered the Scrapper's "lounge"
That pirate died as he called on psionics to slam him into the bulkhead with a bone-shattering impact. "Shit!" shouted a mask-distorted voice. "Justiciar!"
Another wave of dizziness hit Quentin –the gas, seeping in through his pores. If he didn't end this quickly, or at least get out of the gas, he'd go down. So he charged the hallway, deflecting stun charges with his plasma blade. The closest pirate tried desperately to parry with a stunstick, and the luminous silver blade sheared through weapon and torso without slowing. As the corpse fell he struck out with psionics, hurling three more pirates backwards.
A stun bolt struck his shoulder, causing his plasma blade to drop from nerveless fingers. As he called it back to his left hand, two more bolts struck his chest. One sent numbness across his torso and the other fused his breather. An involuntary deep breath, caused by the stinging pain of the stunner, filled his lungs with the gas. He went down, numb arm failing him as he tried to catch himself on hands and knees.
He barely felt the torrent of stun beams that struck him.
When Kaydia awoke, her hands were bound before her, connected to a chain in the ceiling. She was given enough slack that she could move about the cell, a 3-meter by 3-meter square. Across the hallway from her, Quentin was similarly restrained, and still passed out.
For the second time in her life, Kaydia was a prisoner to slavers. Memories bubbled of, of being a scared 17 year old girl, but Kaydia controlled her fear with a deep breath. This time wouldn’t end the same way. She’d been through this before, and she knew how to fight back. If she kept her wits about her, the best moment to strike would present itself.
The chains drew taught, jerking her arms into the air. The door swung open, and a man entered. He was tall, with long blonde hair pulled into a tail, and a sharp chin and hawk nose and piercing blue eyes. He wore a grey military greatcoat with the insignia stripped off, and a loose silk shirt tucked into black slacks. A pulsesword with an ornate guard hung on one hip, and a long-barreled blaster on the other, and Quentin's plasma blade shined on his wrist. He smiled, cruelly, and sketched a mocking bow.
"Welcome aboard, m'lady," he laughed. "And I must thank you –your friend is quite a prize. Quentin Hall, rogue Justiciar. The Order of the Unseen offered a hundred thousand credits for information leading to his capture. A tidy profit."
There wasn’t time to process that revelation, not as his eyes played over her figure. "You're not bad either –I might get as much as three hundred thousand for you." He stepped forward, fingers hooking in the collar of her tank top. Muscles bulged as he jerked, and the fabric tore away. Calloused hands fondled her bared breasts. "Maybe more, once me and my crew finish training you."
“Hey now, no need to be rough with me,” she purred, slipping into Shadi’s skin. His touch made her sick to her stomach, but she just had to play along a little while. Quentin would wake soon, and together they could fight off the pirates. “You got me tied up, not much I can do to stop you. So why should I bother? I could show you a real nice time.” Even as she smirked, putting on a show for the pirate, she reached for her lover through their psychic bond. Quentin, please wake up. I need you now. “Don’t you want to know what’s it’s like to be with a woman who can make a Justiciar forget his oaths? I might not need as much training as you think.”
His hand whipped across her face, leaving her dizzy, with the taste of copper on her lips. “You killed two of my men, and your boyfriend killed even more. We’re going to enjoy taking our revenge on you, and we’re going to broadcast all over the galaxy.” Taking her chin in his fingers, her turned her to face a camera on a tripod. “I bet your future owner is watching this. Why don’t you say hi?”
Kaydia’s response was to kick the Captain, landing her knee into his gut and knocking him into the wall. Suspended above the ground, her strike lacked power, but put space between him and her. She grabbed at the chains holding her up, jerking her hips to swing back and forth, building the momentum to strike again. The captain laughed as he recovered from the blow, but she ignored him, pushing her body forward to kick him again–
Shock tore through her, spasming muscles no longer heeding her commands. Electric waves pulsed under her skin, and numb fingers lost their grip on the chain above. There was no escape from the torment, torment that originated within her body and left her eyes watering and her throat dry.
The captained laughed again, and pulled a remote from his coat pocket. “Subdermal induction nodes, or as I like to call them, SIN. Feels good, don’t it?”
The cell door opened, and another woman stepped through. She had short hair, so blonde as to be nearly white, and ice blue eyes, and features that resembled the captain's. She wore a white leather corset over a tight white shirt, tight white leather pants that clung to her like a second skin, and dove grey boots. Two heavy blasters were strapped to her thighs, and a bag hung from one shoulder. “She’s feisty.”
The captain turned half way towards the woman, and smirked, “Some men like that, breaking in a strong-willed slave.”
“More don’t,” the woman responded, pulling out a small satchel. Unrolled within Kaydia’s eyeline, everything was familiar. Needle, strip of rubber, small vial of milky liquid. “A placid slave always claims a much higher price.”
“Not as much fun,” the captain pouted, before his lips curved into a cruel smirk, “but I’ll find a way to make you scream yet.”
The sight of the inertia brought back more memories, and more terror. But, most insidious of all, it brought back a hunger. That fucking drug ruined her, and still, she wanted another taste. If she couldn’t stop them from hurting her, at least she wouldn’t have to be present.
Her muscles still twitched from the SIN, involuntary spasms that left her disoriented and dizzy. The captain stood behind her, tying off her arm and holding her still, while the woman drew a dose into the needle. Anticipation and dread grew in the pounding of her heart, building to a crescendo that left her trembling. Three years of hard-fought sobriety would disappear upon the tip of a needle.
Quentin, she called, reaching again for him. Please, don’t let them…
The needle bit into her flesh, and comfortable emptiness followed.
Quentin could feel all of those sensations as consciousness slowly returned. He fought for calm as he recognized them for Kaydia's feelings. He called on his psionics, pushing his heart to beat faster and his kidneys and liver to work faster, cleaning the last of the gas from his blood. Finally, he could open his eyes.
No sign of Kaydia.
He struggled for calm, turning his attention to the fetters that bound his wrists. Simple things of steel, with no elaborate locks. He focused on them for a moment and they snapped. Chafing circulation back into his hands, he opened her perceptions to hear the heartbeats on board the ship Once he knew how many were on board, he could formulate a–
Suddenly, his gut clenched in terror as he realized something. Kaydia's emotions, which he'd sensed distantly since their first meeting and which had become a constant presence in his mind, were... gone. Nothing remained but a numb emptiness. "Kaydia!" he shouted, bursting from the cell. "Kaydia! Where are..."
In the next cell over, two people, a man and women with similar features, turned in response. Just beyond them, Kaydia hung from the ceiling, topless and unmoving, with hands bound in chains.
Both assailants had weapons at their sides, but neither got a chance to draw before he drove both into the cell wall with a psionic push. Rage fueled his power, rage and fear of what they’d down to Kaydia. He was on the captain before he could recovered, dropping knee-first into the man’s chest to crush his lungs. His plasma blade bracelet slipped easily from the captain’s wrist, and ignited in a flash of silver in Quentin’s hand. The woman crawled back, away from him, but not far enough as he pounced on her, and the blade sheared through her chest. Her death was brief, and bloodless, and unsatisfying.
Kaydia didn’t respond to the fighting around her, didn’t even look up. The chains melted under the heat of his plasma blade, and he gathered her into his arms. She went limp immediately, leaning her weight against him. Her breathing was slow, but steady, and her eyes dull, distant. Inertia. They must have given her a strong dose; they didn’t want her to fight back.
Footsteps thudded down the hallway. There was no time to tend to Kaydia, not yet. So he sat her in a corner, covered up by the dead captain’s jacket, and ignited his plasma blade once more, bending the light to form projectiles like buzzsaws. In the tight confines of the ship hall, they would cut down any in his path.
It wasn’t a configuration the Order of the Unseen would approve. He was a Justiciar after all –his job was justice, not revenge. But fuck it. And fuck these pieces of filth, who hadn't raped his Kaydia only because they hadn't been given the chance. He’d put every last one of them down.