by Corin Cain
I ignore him, grasping the controls of the mining beam.
I fire a thin beam, perfectly aimed, and the deadly missile explodes.
A vivid blast of high-intensity radiation shoots from the explosion – a roughly spherical outpouring of gamma and x-rays from the dirty missile.
That wasn’t just any tracking missile. It had a nuclear warhead.
Nukes were outlawed thousands of years ago – but just like their use of the teleportation beam, these bastards apparently didn’t play by the rules.
Safe for the moment, I put everything we’ve got back into the engines – diverting power from even the shields as I punch forward on the throttle.
We barely make it out of the nuke’s deadly blast radius – my ship rattling, and clanking, and almost tearing itself apart under the stress. The engine is in the redline, burning forward, close to explosion.
We’ve got one chance. I pilot back towards the asteroid storm – knowing that if I can just get inside that hurtling storm of deadly rocks, we might just be able to escape the bigger ship…
…and then the engine dies.
We’re suddenly adrift – powerless, and stranded in the dead of space.
Meanwhile, the pirate ship looms behind us in pursuit.
4
Juliana
The colossal hulk of the mining ship slows, conserving energy. There’s no need for them to chase us any more - not while we sit adrift in the dead of space, far from any help.
I used to take pride in being able to handle myself. Now, lost in space, with a pirate ship on our backs, I’d be more than happy to swallow my pride if an Aurelian Security ship stumbled across us.
I’m on the Aurelian’s most-wanted list, but at least they’d execute me cleanly. That’s a better fate than being raped and sold by slavers.
But here, in the dead of space, on the fringes of the galaxy, the chance of such a convenient rescue is nil. The reach of the Aurelian Empire may be vast, but it’s not infinite.
Out here, we’re beyond their reach. That’s why I’d come here in the first place.
No help is coming.
The teleportation beam fires, and I shut my eyes tight, trying with all my might to control my panic.
When I open them again, I peer through the glass of the cockpit and see that we’re in the cargo bay of the massive mining hulk.
Huge containers of precious ores, polished and processed loom, above us. In front stand ten men, blocking the entrance to the massive cargo bay, blast-rifles and old-school pistols at their sides.
They have a vicious look to them – more beast than man. Their faces are stubbled, their eyes wild, and I can already imagine the stink of their sweaty bodies.
Adam and Jenson stand behind me in the cockpit, their faces white. I grab the mining beam controls and press the button, but nothing happens.
They’ve jammed our weapons.
“Juliana…” It’s Jenson, his voice trembling. “I know you’re proud, but don’t try to resist. It’s only going to be worse for you.”
He tries to keep the stress from his voice, as if he’s reading coordinates and not giving me advice to survive being raped by pirates.
I shake my head. No man will ever take me. Not alive. “No! We can’t give up. There’s only ten of them…”
Adam looks at me like I’ve suddenly sprouted a new head. “Juliana, listen to yourself. If we try to fight, they’ll kill us. They don’t even need to waste bullets to do so. They could just vent the cargo bay and let us suffocate. Hell, that’s what I’d do if I was them.”
I know it’s true. The nuclear warhead shows they don’t value our lives. If we resist, even in the slightest, they’ll just close their airlocks and vent the oxygen of the cargo hold. Our reserves won’t last forever.
Our comms link lights up. I answer, and watch as one of the men standing at the entrance to the cargo bay talks into the microphone in his wrist.
“No tricks. You come out, and you come out without weapons. You don’t want the alternative.”
Adam grabs my arm, and I push his hand off.
“This can’t… This can’t be happening.” My mouth is dry, and I’m shaking despite myself. I’ve never felt so chilled to the bone.
The man talking was so businesslike. As if capturing us is simply another day at the office for him.
Maybe it is.
I control my rapid breath, holding my head up high.
Adam and Jenson can’t look at me.
They know what’s going to happen to me.
Here, in the dead of space, we’re surrounded by ten men who’ll coolly sell us all into slavery.
Jenson and Adam will be sent to the mines. As for me – to some grim fate in an off-world brothel. That’s if I can survive ten men taking their turns with me on the journey – men who probably haven’t seen a woman in months.
My body will be for sale, and the ten gruff men selling me had already warned that they were going to taste the wares beforehand.
“I’m not going down without a fight,” I growl. “I’d rather die than live as a slave.”
Tears are filling my eyes. I can’t believe this. I always thought I’d die as a result of the things I did three years ago – deep in space, fighting for my life after the authorities finally caught up to me. If they somehow managed to capture me alive, I thought at the very least I’d face the end after a guilty verdict by an Aurelian tribune – executed cleanly, with my head held tall and proud.
That would have been a dignified death – nothing less than I deserved.
But it is not the Aurelian law that will be my demise. It’s ruthless pirates, instead.
The comms link flashes.
“Come out in the next ten seconds, or we’re venting the oxygen. We’ll take your cargo and sell your corpses to the medical school.” The leader of the pirates sounds almost eager when he issues that warning – like he’d enjoy the thought of our blue, cold bodies in the ship.
“I can’t take it anymore,” Adam snaps. “We’ve got no fucking choice, Juliana.”
Stepping across the cockpit, Adam yanks open the hatch and jumps out. He lands on the hard metal floor of the cargo hold, and raises his hands. I watch – half expecting the pirates to cut him down anyway.
When they don’t, Jenson follows suite. He descends from the hatch, and I’m alone in my crippled, helpless ship.
Dammit, Adam is right. We have no choice.
With a knot in my stomach, I clamber from the helm and take the two steps needed to reach the hatch. I struggle to find the courage to go through it – knowing what my fate will be.
But at least I feel the reassuring weight of the short, razor-sharp knife I keep in my boot.
Adam and Jenson can surrender, if they want. They’re not facing the fate I am. But now that they’re relatively safe, I’ve decided that the first of these pirate bastards to lay a hand on me is going to bleed out.
I jump from the hatch, the floor of the mining ship hard beneath me as I land. The gravity is slightly higher than what I prefer, and it feels like I weigh an extra 15 pounds as I step towards my captors.
“Take it all, but let us go free,” I say, a waiver creeping into my voice.
The leader of the pirates licks his lips. He’s a heavyset man in his forties, with greying stubble lining his cheeks. A tiny scar is nicked on his chin. I wish whoever had given him that scar had done a better job.
“Take it all, you say. I think I will,” the pirate sneers, looking me up and down with appreciation. I can hear the edge of lust in his voice. He enjoys the idea of forcing me to do his bidding.
Adam and Jenson step in front of me. I feel a surge of pride that they’d put themselves in danger to protect me. But that pride is short-lived. When the blasters of the slavers are brought to aim on them, Jenson and Adam step away.
My faith in them curdles in my stomach.
I want to cry – to run… But there’s nowhere to escape to. I might be a damn tough c
aptain, but faced with the violent fate I’m about to experience, I feel like a scared little girl.
Nevertheless, I glance desperately around…
…but there’s only one entrance to the cargo bay, and the ten men stand in my way of it.
“You two – back.” The leader of the pirate motions to Jenson and Adam. They back away – far away – as the ten men approach me.
I’ll get no help from them – not that I should expect it. I can’t blame them. They’d be killed if they did.
So, all alone, I crouch as the men approach. As they near me, in a menacing semi-circle, I reach for the knife in my boot – but I’m too slow.
The men are on me in an instant – ten pairs of hands groping me, ripping at my shirt, pulling my clothes from me.
I scream – but a huge, greasy palm covers my mouth roughly. I bite down into the flesh, tasting the disgusting mix of sweat, motor oil and blood.
“Virgin!” Jenson yells, and the men pause for a moment. The one whose hand is bleeding grunts and grabs my arm, holding me tight as the leader of the pirates pulls his blaster and aims it straight at Jenson’s head.
My crewmate freezes.
“What did you say?” The pirate leader demands.
“She’s a virgin,” Jenson stammers. “She’ll be worth more to you… Intact.”
His voice is trembling. He’s terrified. I can’t blame him.
In fact, I’m ashamed that despite everything that’s happening to us, my cheeks are red from him revealing my secret.
A secret that might just save my life.
The pirate leader turns to me, and sneers.
“Is this true? A pretty thing like you? Still innocent?”
The pirate grabs my chin, forcing me to look up into his rakish face.
I wish I could disappear.
“It’s… It’s true,” I confess, embarrassed and afraid.
“Very well,” the pirate sounds almost disappointed. From the bulge in the front of his pants, I can understand why. But profit seems to motivate him more than his balls – and he barks to his men: “Take her to the brig. To the private cells. I’ll not have some other slave raping her and lowering her value while she’s in custody.”
Two of his men drag me away. I take one look back, not sure whether to thank Jenson or curse at him.
I get the chance to do neither. Instead, I’m pulled down a long metal hallway – presumably towards the brig. We’re halfway down it when the man on my right loses his grip for a split second.
It’s enough.
I grab my knife, yanking it from my boot and sweeping it across his throat in one, swift motion. The pirate clutches at his gushing wound, blood splattering me, as I bury the knife deep into the second man’s stomach. That pirate’s eyes go wide with terror and pain – and as he clutches the entrails that pour from the wound in his stomach, he grabs my throat with his other hand – squeezing the breath out of me.
I stab blindly, hitting nothing. His grip tightens – and blackness fills my vision…
…until the pirate’s grip weakens, and he falls to floor, groaning in pain.
Suddenly I can breathe again, and I clamber unsteadily to my feet.
I run, not even knowing where I’m supposed to be going – I just need to move. The grey metal of this hulk’s walls are dull, and each sparse corridor looks the same as I run down them, twisting and turning at different junctions, passing the medical bay… Rushing through the mess hall…
…and by doing so, right back into more of these pirate scum.
There are four men sitting in the mess hall, and they each look at me with amusement and interest as I stagger in, panting and gasping. The slave-trading pirates are still eating their slop, spoons raised to their mouths, as I stumble to a halt in front of them.
They stare at me. My shirt is in tatters from the cargo bay, and I know these four slave-trading scum are enjoying the view of my exposed, sweat-sheened skin.
I hold the knife out as they stand up slowly.
I know I’ll have no chance against all four men, but I’m hopeful I’ll be able to kill at least one or two of them before they take my life – and I’d rather they take my life than my body.
I’d rather be dead meat to them than rape meat.
I steel myself, knife poised.
This is it. Oh Gods, this is really it.
“Easy there, kitten,” one of the pirates sneers. “Time to go back to your cage.”
I snort bitterly. By opening his condescending mouth, the slave-trader who uttered those words has earned himself the honor of being the first man I’ll kill.
I crouch down, ready for his attack…
…and then, suddenly, I feel the cold sharpness of steel pressed against my throat.
“You’re a vicious one, then.” It’s the unmistakable voice of the leader of the pirates. He must have sneaked up behind me while I was distracted – never far from my heels even as I ran like hell through the bowels of this mining hulk.
With a gulp – which just presses the blade of that knife even tighter against my skin – I drop my own weapon.
My heart pounds. I expected the knife at my throat to be pulled away once I dropped my weapon. Instead, almost like a silent warning, the pirate leader presses the steel of his blade against the skin of my neck just a little harder…
Just for a moment.
Then, with a snarl, he grabs my arm and yanks me out of the mess hall.
I’m pulled, stumbling down one of the long corridors, until we reach the brig level. It’s dark down there, and the leader of the pirates barely says a word as he drags me to one of the windowless cells and throws me inside. I’m barely back on my feet as he slams the door shut in front of me.
Suddenly, I’m alone in the dark and the silence.
Fuck.
I tried to escape.
I failed.
Rage bubbling up inside of me, I scream in anger and wail my fists against the thick metal of the door, hammering them into the unyielding steel until my hands bleed.
Finally, exhausted and in agony, I flop to a heap on the cold, metal floor and sob.
Even as the tears run down my face, part of me thinks that this is as good as my grim situation could have got. I’ve been spared gang-rape at the hands of the pirate slavers, and whoever they would have tossed me into a cell with. Although that good fortune is a mixed blessing. The only reason I’m in a private cell, and not with the other sad, unfortunate souls, is because the pirate slavers value my virginity.
It might have protected me for now, but at a much higher cost further down the line. It doesn’t take a genius to realize what these slavers have in store for me.
They’re going to sell me – as a sex slave, to the highest bidder. And I know who that sort of bidder will most likely be. Only one species in the galaxy truly value virginity any more – Toads couldn’t care less who’s stuck their dicks in their human pleasure slaves, and while some humans still value sexual innocence, the harsh realities of life in space mean that most of my own kind are ambivalent.
No, it’s only Aurelians who truly appreciate a virgin.
The irony is that the huge, dominant alien don’t even have to take slaves to fill their harems with willing, submissive human women. There are flocks of women like me eager to join those harems – to trade their eager cunts, asses and mouths – not to mention their dignity – for an escape from the hard-scrabble burden of scraping a living in this unforgiving galaxy.
But, nevertheless, there are some Aurelians who still purchase slaves. It’s only ever the worst of them who do it – knowing that it’s against the law of their people. They buy slaves like cattle because the thought of owning a human female excites them in a way nothing else can.
It’s almost for certain. The highest bidders will be Aurelian. They’ll bid on me, bargain for the right to be the first to fuck me, and one of them will leave the auction with me dragged along beside them, a collar around my throat.
> That is my fate: To be the property of some vile, dominant giant whose greatest sexual pleasure won’t come from fucking me, but from knowing I have no choice other than to be his.
5
Juliana
Hours pass, or days. I have no way of keeping track. I’m in complete darkness, lying on the cold, metal floor, with nothing to distract me from grim thoughts about my fate.
Water… Oh Gods, please, water…
The slavers know I’m dangerous – and in punishment for killing two of their crew, they’ve given me no food or water for the duration of the voyage. Or, at least, that’s why I assume they’ve done so.
The idea that these slave-trading scum would starve me for no reason than to save money on rations is too cruel to imagine.
Whatever their reasons, the ache in my belly is full and gnawing. That’s nothing compared to the Sahara of my throat. I’ve never been without water for this long – and after what could have been days, it’s all I can think about.
There’s a dripping sound through the door, far down the hallway. It started out faint but now it’s the only thing I can hear. Somewhere close there is dark, dank water dripping from a pipe, and the knowledge is a psychological torture. I can’t even think. All I can hear is that glorious drip.
I’m weak, like this – hatefully weak. I’m slumped in the far corner of my cell. After my first outburst of anger, punching the walls until my fists were bloody, I realized I’m not going to get a chance to escape again. Not until we reach our destination, wherever that might be.
All I do know is that it’ll be nearby. I can tell that much because the vessel hasn’t phase shifted. I’ve been on countless mining ships as they phased to a different location and it’s always felt like getting thrown off a cliff, the way it makes your gut wrench. Even in this dark, cold cell, I’d be able to feel that.
My mind cranks, despite my hunger. Since we are flying local, that means the most likely destination is Titus.
Titus. Far from the reach of the Aurelian Empire, where you’re forced to survive by your wits and steel alone. It’s where I’d originally planned on selling the ore I’d collected with Adam and Jenson – knowing that even after Korgath’s hefty cut, I’d have earned enough to turn my bucket of a mining ship into something special.
