"Yes, good thinking," I told Cinnamon. A better man would have apologized, but it didn't come naturally to me without coming across as a weakness. Better play to my strengths. "Nav-Berry," I addressed the redhead.
"Nav-Berry?"
"Is there any issue with us traveling at half the maximum speed through a system?"
"I don't think so," she replied, her previous anger dissipating. "Here, I'm sending you the Nav-point now."
I thanked her and proceeded to get our ship moving in the right direction. We had a whole day before we arrived at Clark's station if I didn't adjust the speed.
Turning back to my freckled first officer, I approached the tender subject once again. This time not so harshly. "As systems officer, aren't you able to hack files?"
"Hack?"
"Can you and Honeysuckle work together to find a way to change the name of the ship in our records?"
The two girls looked at each other. Honey had almost no experience at systems but she was learning the position. Perhaps just a second set of eyes would be useful. They both nodded and started discussing where to look. I got out of my seat and headed for the hallway. When Cinnamon asked where I was going I told her that I wanted to check to make sure everyone was okay, especially Teddy.
"Wait," Strawberry said. "If we can manage to change the name of the ship, what should we change it to?"
A few options ran through my mind. Intrepid, Kash Money, Boat Full of Bitches. All stupid choices. We needed a new name that wouldn't draw suspicion or accidentally duplicate another ship. Finally, I told her, "Mavdaios."
I soon as I stepped into the hallway the good doctor came around the corner. "Captain," she addressed me as if I had always been her superior officer. Even the girls that I was romantically involved with didn't do that. "Teddy and Mixi were both vomiting from jump-nausea. I'll study their data and see if any adjustment needs made to the med that we use on humans. I should have something for them before we jump again."
"You have anti-nausea medicine for humans?"
Vanilla just realized why I asked. "Yes, sorry. I forgot that you haven't experienced rip-jumping before. Did you have any ill effects?" When I hesitated to answer she simply told me that she would have a dose handy for next time should I want it.
"Did the dragons have any issues?" I asked.
"No, they slept right through it. Considering their dietary freedom their stomachs probably don't get upset easily."
"Captain," the melodic voice of a siren called to me. Down the hall stood Aeren in a ship's uniform that had been trimmed down to fit her build. On her face was a naturally seductive smile. "Is there anything that I can do to help?"
Yes, there is, my lower region replied. She looked so good in the new duds. No longer an alien girl, she was ready to be a regular member of the crew. Of my crew. She had already taken to calling me captain, too. All the right buttons were being pushed.
When I failed to reply, she asked me if her uniform met with my approval. Hesitating again, Vanilla answered for me telling her that she looked great.
"How is the studying going?" I asked when I recovered from her mesmerizing effect. I couldn’t be sure if she was making a concerted effort to draw me in like that, or if it was a normal feature of her race, the Xotico.
"Great," she answered. "Mixi and I can now recognize hundreds of words. We should be able to begin regular training soon and learn the rest of the pertinent words along the way."
That was excellent news. Perhaps we would be able to make use of her communication skills soon at Clark's station. The only problem was that she was simply too thin to be human. Those ears might not be a dead giveaway to her alien origin, now that human women underwent some sort of surgical procedure to obtain that appearance. But combined with her physique it wasn't worth the risk. We certainly couldn't let Mixi be seen. Even if we managed to hide her wings, she was absolutely too beautiful to pass as a child without drawing attention. I wasn't even sure if it was acceptable to have children on a merchant ship these days.
If Vanilla had her way, it wouldn't be too long before we'd have a baby. How would that work? Would we convert one room into a nursery? The child wouldn’t even need toys. He or she had a living Teddy bear and dragons to play with. There would be no pretend world for my children. They would be living the fantasy.
"I know what you are thinking, Captain," Vanilla whispered to me. "Those slender hips of hers would not be able to birth a half human child. But you need not worry about that. I will make the experience nearly painless and return her vagina to its current condition quickly, should you want to try for a second child."
I gave the doctor a queer look. The elegantly sexy physician was turning into a creepy scientist. Would she hold my child up and laugh hysterically when it was born?
CHAPTER TWELVE:
A few hours later and we were ready to attempt contact with Clark's Station. I invited everyone to the control room except for Vanilla. There was no reason for a medical expert to be on hand if there was no strain on the ship's life support system. There was actually a protocol for who to have in the room for the variety of circumstances, but I was adjusting those as I went along.
I sat in the pilot's chair ready to make speed or trajectory adjustments based on the station's response. Strawberry sat next to me at navigation prepared to plot a new course should we change our minds. Directly behind me was Cinnamon at the comm station. The seat beyond that, typically reserved for the cargo specialist, held the ultra slim buttocks of the alien elf Aeren. Left side of the room held Honeysuckle at systems, the tiny forms of Mixi and Teddy behind her. We looked like something on the science fiction television network that asinine popcorn guzzlers would voice over.
I knew that the alien trio would not be able to follow along very well with the data we allowed to display on their screens. Still, this would be a great learning opportunity. And it could help us start thinking about how these three could fit into our crew. I already had my heart set on Aeren learning communications due to her persuasive ability. Of course, she may be considerably less effective when speaking to someone that is not physically present.
Mixi's uniform was essentially open back design. It had to be to accommodate her wings. She appeared as much like a crew member as possible for a Divinifae, but it certainly wasn't going to pass on a human station. There was a flap rolled up at the top of her back. When released it could cover her alien appendages, but I imagined there would be a lumpy hump there instead. Not much of an improvement.
Teddy's clothes had been redone as well. Black fabric, tighter fit, he looked good. I suggested that the crew stay with the current uniforms since the new recruits were matching now. Of course, I had ulterior motives. I enjoyed all the exposed skin of these lovely ladies. I was worried that something new would dramatically reduce the view. Not reading the situation as well as I had hoped, Aeren assured us that she could make new ones without a problem.
The recently acquired girls were much less familiar with my personality than the others. I would have to choose my words more wisely with them around. Hopefully, in time they'll get accustomed to my peculiar ways like the others.
That reminded me. I hadn’t been singing to myself much lately. Why did I do that anyway?
Because I’m a creep.
I’m a weirdo.
What the hell am I doing here?
I guess now I belong here.
Because I’m so fucking special!
"Clark's Station," Cinnamon spoke into the highly advanced microphone that was part of her station. It was designed to only pick up the voice of the person seated there, blocking out all other noise and chatter. "This is the class C17 vessel Mavdaios approaching for commercial business. We have a variety of cargo to sell and are requesting a list of current outgoing prices and contracts. Please advise with final approach instructions and docking. This will be our first visit to Clark's so we may need to register our ship. Let us know if that is required in advance. Thank you."
There was a pause before Strawberry announced that the computer confirmed the transmission was sent. Unless there was an error in the system, we should receive a response in a few minutes. That is if they reply immediately after receiving our message.
"Who normally registers our ship with a new station?" I asked. I had already congratulated them on successfully changing the name, though they weren’t entirely sure that they had wiped Arketa Koreta from the registration data.
"It has only happened once since I've been a member of the crew," Strawberry answered. "It was handled by King and Coffee. I don't know the specifics."
"I've familiarized myself with the basics," Cinnamon informed me. "If we have to do it in advance they'll provide the list of data they require. That is our preferred method. If done in person we may not have all the information ready that they need. That could make us look suspicious. Either way, we are going to have to be a bit deceptive about our cargo. You'll also need the doctor's help in providing a safe boarding badge."
"Safe boarding badge?" I asked. That was the first time that I heard about that.
"Ships and crew can carry an infinite number of diseases from one stop to the next," Strawberry explained. "There are also hazardous substances and contraband that vary from one station to the next. Our usual route locations post those and are already in our database. Considering that Clark's is a new stop for us, and less reputable, we'll want to make sure we receive an accurate list to avoid problems."
"Vanilla is used to having all that stuff ready," Cinnamon informed me. "She's probably already taken care of everything needed in that regard. We can..."
"C17 Mavdaios," a young male voice came through the communications console. Cinnamon was wearing an earpiece but I told her to have the speaker on so I could hear everything conveyed. "This is Clark's receiving. Sending approach window instructions now. Unless you have something unusual, you can declare offboarding cargo in person after arrival. The same is true with ship registration. You'll be receiving our outgoing offers shortly. Those may adjust by the time that you dock, so don't make any decisions until you visit our market. If your docking apparatus has not been modified from standard C17, all we'll need is your safe boarding badge in advance. Thank you for choosing Clark's. We hope you enjoy your visit."
"That is all?" I asked after the speaker was silent for a few seconds.
"That is how it is done," Cinnamon replied. "You'll get the approach data when it comes in so you can adjust our course and speed. I see the safe boarding badge automatically loaded from the doctor's records as soon as the request came in. Once I get the outgoing offers list I'll trim it down to things that you will be interested in. That was always part of my job as cargo specialist."
"Trim down the list?" I asked, trying not to sound too new to this.
"Sure," my spice girl replied. "There are things we are not set up to carry like unpackaged ore and fluids. Those require specific holds that only larger vessels possess. They'll also list short runs to nearby outposts and planets that don't typically pay all that well. There may also be contracts for long hauls to star systems that we are not familiar. I'd assume we are avoiding that scenario."
"I'd like to see some of these short runs," I told her. "Especially to a planet's surface."
"Ugh!" Honeysuckle moaned. "Not another planet already."
"Hey," I turned to face the crew. "Half of us aboard are used to solid ground beneath our feet. Let us stretch our legs occasionally until we have grown accustomed to space life. Especially the dragons."
"Yes, captain," Honeysuckle replied, trying to sound professional. "I apologize for my outburst."
Then Strawberry said under her breath, "We just need to make sure we don't crash or break down on the next planet we visit."
I stared right at Honeysuckle and shook my head to ward off any response. I personally didn't take Strawberry's comment as a jab at the mechanic's competency, but I knew from experience that it could easily be received that way.
When the station approach instructions came in, Nav-Berry programmed the course for me with speed reductions along the way. I simply needed to hit the button to approve. Piloting a spaceship was much easier than I ever could have imagined. They were just starting to come out with self-driving cars when I left Earth, but they weren't very reliable. Certainly busy street traffic was more difficult to program for than the huge vacuum of space.
The Teegarden system had one hundred and seventeen vessels in motion at the time, not including those in orbit or within the restricted zones of the other stations. Only a fraction of those were interstellar crafts. Clark's station had two departing and one approaching, and twenty-five currently docked. Again, many of those were not capable of rip-jumping. The small outpost mostly handled trade within the system, to the other stations and a couple of colonized planets.
When the contract and purchase offers came in, they reflected that fact. There were only three contracts for transporting goods to other star systems. Two for Vega, the system where my two favorite humans had been born, and one for Procyon. All three were lucrative according to Strawberry.
There were a variety of other goods that could be purchased and taken anywhere we liked. Clark's advertised selling prices for those items in nearby systems, but Cinnamon said those were exaggerated to promote sales. As far as interstellar economy went, it wasn't incredibly hard to figure out. If a star system had an abundance of something, you could buy it cheap. If they were short on something, you could sell it at a high price. Our ship's computer had a record of prices for hundreds of items over the last few years. It could even estimate profitability on certain scenarios and recommend the best locations to sell. That took into consideration all expenses and time spent in transit as well.
Despite travelling through space, this wasn't rocket science. Computerized life had become way too easy, exponentially so since my departure from Earth. And I had thought dependency on electronics was particularly bad back then.
"What's the best option for trade with a planet with a breathable atmosphere?" I asked.
"Construction goods and air filters for Teegarden Dimo-First," Cinnamon answered. "That planet is also rich in a variety of foods that we should be able to sell anywhere."
"The first contract to Vega pays over three times as much,” Strawberry announced. "If we want to avoid that star system, we can take the one to Procyon and still make more than twice as much at the local run."
"What is the chance of getting good offers for other star systems after running the planet load?" I asked Strawberry specifically, since she was the one wanting to buck my plan.
There was a stubborn pause before she answered in a low voice, "The chances are good."
"Excellent," I said. "I appreciate everyone's input and hard work to get us to this point. Let's try to get a planet run contract when we dock. We'll grab a shitload of good selling food while we're down there and sell it at one of these stations. Then we'll get an interstellar contract that will have us bathing in dollar bills."
"What is a dollar bill?" Honey asked.
"That's what bitches used to dance for," I answered without giving it sufficient thought. Suddenly I had a hankering for a good strip club. Not the Vegas type either. No. The small town Pennsylvania kind where the local girls got seriously dolled up to persuade singles out of the drunk married men that lived down the street. When I rolled in with two hundred bucks they treated me like a celebrity.
But then again, I was already the king in my new world. And these women were way hotter than those almost-hookers.
"So, has the plan changed with our prisoner?" Strawberry asked. "Or do we intend to remain in the same star system for a while after we release her at Clark's?"
Ah. That could be a problem. We would need to not only find a way to unload our unwanted crew member, but also to do so in a way that wouldn’t bite us in the ass before we could get clear of the situation.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
Cla
rk's Station did indeed appear unfinished when viewed on camera. There was a central hub for a wheel, but the circle wasn't anywhere near complete. Less than a third of the way according to my estimation. And that portion was split equally between the two ends. Its barely perceptible spin of the two-headed pendulum created an artificial gravity for its occupants.
Both sides of the station had docks, markets and everything that a civilization in space needed. Only twenty thousand people made their home there, but population doubled when the docks were fully berthed. Depending on the size and crew of the ships. Most of those that lived on the station regularly worked to supply the merchant visitors in one way or another. Dock workers, sales staff, warehouse people, and those that worked in the factories to make valuables for export.
We were directed to berth B14. It was slightly off center and just two spots from an interstellar cargo carrier that could hold a hundred times more than our tiny craft. One more starship, just slightly larger than us, and seven system craft which were parked toward the ends of the docking strip.
Alien Girls Page 7
