"Space Pirates" (closed)

[Alice2015]

Portia's Berthing Compartment
Shuttle 5
Enroute to Emmanuel 4
(Main Cargo Transfer Station, Northern Continent):

"I should get to the bridge," Marcus said. He spoke of Vincent's need to be in the engine room while he returned to Nav.

Portia watched Marcus dress, considering a variety of things she could say or do before he departed. This was so new to her; Portia didn't know what she felt for Marcus, but she knew that it was more than she had before they'd fucked. Made love? she wondered. Was that what we'd done ... then and now?

She didn't want to think that this was anything more than just sex. Portia had only been in love once in her life, and she'd only been 14 years old, so her family and friends both had told her it was infatuation, not love. I'm not in love, she told herself firmly.

At the door, Marcus looked back and said, "I like that better than the old way."

"Me, too," Portia said. She smiled, a combination of happiness and nervousness. Suddenly fearful that a conversation about their relationship might begin, she told him, "I'll see you on the bridge."

Marcus must have understood as he only returned Portia's smile before leaving. She laid there a few more minutes, contemplating both what had just happened and what was ahead of them. She didn't like bringing more people into their mix, particularly people she didn't know, but what choice did she have? If she wanted the equipment in the Depot to turn their civilian transport into a pirate warship, they had to have help.

And, honestly, how much piracy could they successfully perform with just two guys, two gals, a Cyborg, and a naive, innocent girl? Of course, they'd only talked about using Yom Vistrom and his men -- and women? -- for the depot heist and not any further activities. We these men appropriate for a pirate crew? If they were, were they interested in such work?

She slipped out of bed and used the mist shower before dressing and heading for the Bridge.


On the Bridge:

Carla turned fast, firm circles upon her clit with her fingers as Vincent rammed his cock in and out of her. She heard and felt his orgasm, quickly demanding, "Don't stop! Don't fucking stop!"

He continued pounding deep, hard, and fast; she continued fondling her clit; and before Vincent had fully come down from his climax, Carla was crying out to her own. She slumped back upon the man's torso, interlacing their fingers and pulling his arms around her body as she rode out the joy.

Only after they'd both regained themselves did Carla ever so carefully lift off Vincent; she kept hold of one of his hands for balance as her legs took a moment to regain their stability. She told him with a smile, "That was great. Thanks."

Pulling her pants and panties back up, she headed away to the berthing compartment they'd assigned her to clean up and change into something not polluted with her and Vincent's fluids.

 

[HumanBean]

Bridge:

Marcus walked onto the bridge to find only Vincent present. The big man had a sheepish expression on his face, but when Marcus asked what's up? the answer came in the form of a shrug.

"We're 15 minutes from Nav' transfer to the Station," Vincent said, standing. "I'm heading to the engine room."

"I have the bridge until Portia shows up, " Marcus confirmed.

He took his place and waited for the Station to contact them. They did finally, taking control of the shuttle and guiding it to a landing platform.

The crew were performing the long list of post-landing steps when they were told to immediately open the main hatch for inspection and verification of papers.

Marcus looked to Portia, telling her with confidence, "We can tell then that the transponder is malfunctioning, like we planned. And Betty says the papers are good, too. I don't think we have anything to worry about."

Still, Marcus checked his sidearm to ensure it had a full charge.

 

[Alice2015]

Emmanual 4 Interstellar Cargo Transfer Station:

As Portia, Marcus, and Vincent concluded the post-landing checklist, they were informed that an inspection and papers check was to be immediately completed. Marcus assured Portia that they'd be okay, and trusting the work that he and Betty had done on false papers, she headed aft to meet their guests.

She was the first of the trio to arrive at the ramp, hitting the button to lower it. It dropped slowly, revealing the Inspector and his four armed escorts to Portia as it also revealed her to them. Immediately she saw a couple of them smirking and whispering to each other as they a little more and a little more of her was revealed to them; Portia was only 5'8" tall including the extra inches from her boots, and at 124 pounds looked to be just the kind of woman that men like these would love to subject to a security strip search.

The joyful expressions on the faces of the majority of them changed a bit as the lowering ramp revealed the dual sidearms upon which her hands were resting, and those men who didn't seem too worried about a girl with a gun seriously showed a change in their expressions and body language when Marcus and Vincent appeared and stood close to Portia.

"How can we help you gentlemen," Portia asked with a friendly smile and tone. She pulled a folded slip of paper from her pocket and waggled it before her, saying, "We paid our landing fee before we arrived, so if there is something more, we should probably go speak to your Supervisor."

The Inspector suddenly looked very disappointed, realizing that his opportunity to impose his own charges and fees had eluded him. He spat out, "Health and safety check!"

"Of course," Portia said, turning a bit to her side and gesturing the man forward. "More than happy to have you aboard."

The Inspector and his escorts headed up into the Shuttle, splitting between the two main halls. Portia and Marcus followed one group, while Vincent -- the big man -- followed the other. They kept a close eye on the men to ensure that nothing of theirs walked away with the men; it helped, too, that before they'd entered Emmanual's atmosphere, they'd secured anything and everything of value, much of it in small rooms or cabinets for which they didn't have keys.

"Not our shuttle," was their standard answer. "We're just borrowing it for this planet call."

The Inspector was carrying a Bio-Sensor, which Portia knew was capable of picking up Carla's bio-signs. They didn't want the Admiral's wife to be discovered since -- after she looted her husband's accounts -- it was very likely that her picture has already being spread across the Quadrant as a hostage, a conspirator, or both. To solve that issue, Portia had hid Carla in the Engine Room between two of the Main Propulsion units; the dissipating heat of the units would hide her biosignature from the scanner, though, by the time they were able to get her out of there, she'd be sweating like a pig and nearly ready to pass out.

After almost thirty minutes of the men searching the Shuttle and finding nothing of which they could levy any faux-fines to line their pockets, they finally stomped their way off the vessel and moved on to cheat the crew of another recently arrived craft. Portia told Marcus, "Go get Carla out of the cooker and cleaned up. We're going to need her for our negotiations."

To Vincent she said, "Okay, so ... take me to this man you think is going to help us."

 

[HumanBean]

Emmanual 4 Interstellar Cargo Transfer Station

Aboard Shuttle 5:

"Go get Carla out of the cooker and cleaned up," Portia told Marcus. "We're going to need her for our negotiations."

"Ten minutes," Marcus said in response. He turned and hurried back inside. He found the beauty right where he'd left her. He couldn't help but laugh. She was a mess, her skin covered and clothes soaked with sweat. "C'mon, you can use the full water shower in the boss's quarters."

She sent him to her assigned berthing space to retrieve a bag of clothes she'd brought with her. He returned, finding her just finishing up. Remembering how much fun they'd had that one time they'd had sex, he offered, "Need me to dry your back?"

Out in the Station:

Vincent led Portia through the station on the way to where he hoped to find Yom Vistrom. He knew that he'd find him in one of three places: a brothel, a bar, or a medical clinic. The reasons for the first two were pretty obvious: babes and booze.

The third location was common for Yom because he had a tendency of getting beat up. Oh, it wasn't that Yom wasn't good at fighting. He was. He won most of the brawls he got into and usually by seriously beating a man down. But when you got into as many fight as he did, you were bound to lose one occasionally.

It wasn't bad enough to have to look for him in three different types of establishments. Just as with most interstellar cargo transfer stations, this one was surrounded by brothels and bars. Clinics not so much, though. Thankfully, they found their man in the first brothel they checked. Vincent was directed to a room where Yom was supposed to be entertaining.

"You can come along if you wish or stay out here," he told Portia as they made their way through the whore house's packed lobby. "Course, you stay out here, and someone's gonna offer you credits to dance, either on a table or on their cock."

He made his way down the dark hallway to the door he'd been told to check. Beyond the door, he could hear the obvious sounds of sex. Vincent knocked softly. He honestly didn't expect to get an answer. Still, a male voice called out, "Come!"

Vincent opened the door a bit, peeking inside. The room was dark and smoky. He could smell Parra, a dried, crushed, and rolled root that contained a psychedelic drug popular in such establishments. As he opened the door further, Vincent began recognizing the scene for what it was: an orgy.

Sprawled out across a padded floor he would eventually count as many as 20 bodies. They were divided about 50-50 male-female. Although one might think that all the males were patrons and all the females were whores, it wouldn't turn out to be so. There were a good number of both female merchant crew and male whores as well, though the latter was the smallest number of the four types of people.

Vincent scanned the room and found just about every lewd sexual act possible taking place. Men fucked women. Men sucked women. Men fucked and sucked men. Women were doing men and other women as well. There was an abundance of toys as well: vibrating dildos, cock rings, butt plugs, handcuffs and other bindings. You name it, and it was being used.

The flesh of each and every one of the participants glistened under orange-red lights. Vincent realized that they were all covered in oil. They slipped and slided against each other with ease.

"Vincent!" a male voice called out from somewhere in the crowd. "My man! Get your fucking clothes off and your dick out and fuck something with me!"

By the time the man ceased talking, Vincent had found him. Yom Vistom was in a corner, lying back into a bag as a woman and man took turned licking and sucking his cock. Vincent gestured toward the door behind him, saying, "I need a moment, Yom. Business. You'll want to take this meeting."

 

[Alice2015]

Emmanual 4 Interstellar Cargo Transfer Station

Aboard Shuttle 5, a few minutes ago:

Carla thought she was going to pass out and/or die any minute from the heat dissipating from the Shuttle's engines. With each passing minute, she thought that maybe it would have been better just to get caught. She was coated in sweat from under her scalp to her toes by the time Marcus appeared, laughed at her appearance, and said, "C'mon, you can use the full water shower in the boss's quarters."

She barely turned on the hot water once she got into the shower in Portia's berthing quarters, drenching herself in practically straight cold water. With the sweat rinsed away and her hair and body again fresh, she simply stood under the flow for another few minutes in an attempt to lower her internal temperature. She would have stayed in there forever if it weren't for the alarm that beeped every 60 seconds to remind her that clean water was precious, even in the vessel's Captain's quarters.

She stepped out of the shower, forgetting that the door to the small bathroom was wide open. She caught sight of Marcus standing in Portia's sleeping room, staring at her, asking, "Need me to dry your back?"

Carla had had Marcus once before, just as she had Vincent just an hour or two earlier and Portia a couple of months earlier. To the best of her knowledge, neither of them had spoken to the other about their time partaking of her pussy, but even if they had, she wouldn't have cared. Carla cared little about others' thoughts with regards to her sexual appetites or exploits.

She remembered having fun with Marcus their one and only time together; he'd been far more willing to participate in her fetishes than had Vincent, which had pleased Carla. But she would pass on him this time, partially because she was spent from her time inside the roaster oven of the Engine Room and partially because she was still feeling stretched and sated from her time with Vincent.

Carla walked out close to Marcus as she patted a blanket to her breasts and belly. She took the bag of clothes from him, then promised, "Next time."

She turned away, returning to the bathroom as she flashed her backside, then turned to give him one last look at her wondrous front as she closed the door.

(OOC: Use the image as a starting point, obviously.)

Ten minutes later, Carla emerged looking nothing like Marcus normally saw her. Her body was lost beneath a 3X sized pair of coveralls that hid her delicious curves, her shapely ass, and her ever pert nipples. She'd ignored combing out her hair and had instead pulled it wet and disorderly into a pair of ponytails; her face was entirely without makeup, not that that didn't leave her still a very beautiful woman.

"This shouldn't attract any attention," she said with an obviously disappointed tone; she liked looking good and being looked at both. "Portia told me before she put me in that Engine Room oven that I need to be inconspicuous."

They went to her room to retrieve her Coded IC Card, as which time Carla pulled a hat on that partially hid her face under the bill's shadow. Standing before a mirror on the inside of the door of the small closet, she laughed. "I wouldn't even recognize me if I didn't know it was me."

Marcus secured the Shuttle behind them to keep wannabe thieves and snoops out, and the two of them headed out to find Portia and Vincent

In the brothel:

Portia had been inside brothels before, a couple of times as a patron but more often than not to retrieve crewmates who were in threat of not making it back to the Venture in time for departure. She'd seen one or two upscale Houses with elaborately dressed Hostesses and dining halls and a show room. But most of them being located so closely to the Transfer Stations had best been described as dirty, dingy, dark whore houses.

This one was one of the latter types. Portia had heard of orgy houses before, but she'd never been in one. Despite not being here to partake of the offerings, Portia and Vincent still had to pay the entrance fee to get through the door. They were each given a bracelet and told not to take it off until they left; it reminded Portia of the ID bracelet she'd worn during a three-day hospital stay after a radiation burn a couple of years ago.

"When your time is up, it'll begin to glow brightly," the guy wrapping them around their wrists said. "When that happens, it's time to leave ... or else."

"Or else what?" Portia asked, both out of curiosity and out of a desire to test the man.

He answered by curling a finger toward a nearby dark corner, from which emerged the biggest, meanest looking bouncer Portia had ever seen. The man at the door simply said, "Or him."

Portia had been curious about the payment system used by the brothel. Normally, a patron paid a fee for specific services from a specific sex provider for a specific amount of time. In this house, the only thing that seemed specific to Portia was that amount of time. Beyond that, patrons and providers within the orgy house were essentially doing anything they wanted with anyone they wanted.

The word orgy was very aptly applied, she saw. Some of what she saw disgusted Portia, while other things made her tingle a bit in her panties. It was hard at times to determine which of the participants were the patrons and which were the providers. All seemed to be enjoying themselves, though, which wasn't always the case in some of the less reputable whore houses. Portia and a handful of her underlings had once had to break up the fun taking place in one brothel when they'd learned that almost all of the girls there were mid-teenaged sex slaves. She didn't often involve herself in such situations, but that one in particular had rankled not only her but even some of the men on her crew.

Vincent was pointed to a hallway, and Portia followed him down it pass pairs of doorways beyond which were more rooms of people enjoying themselves. The rooms didn't have solid doors but instead had cloth hanging in the portals; Portia knew that that was so that the brothel's bouncers and operators could check in on the goings-on to ensure safety, and to look for the glowing arm bands of those whose time had come to an end.

Out of curiosity, Portia pulled one of the drapes open a bit to take a peek. She didn't understand what she was seeing initially: a naked woman was trussed up to what looked like a spit for roasting a pig, with her arms up beyond her head but her legs spread apart; a second woman was using a brush to coat her naked body with an oil that left her entire being glistening and dripping; and surrounding the two of them were a dozen or more also-naked people who watched the pair anxiously, like predators ready to strike.

Suddenly, the painting woman stepped back out of the way, and the stalking people surged forth to begin licking and lapping up the coating of liquid from the body of the woman who began writhing against her bindings and crying out in pleasure, particularly at the tongues who lapped at her breasts, pussy, and other erogenous zones.

What Portia didn't know was that the fluid being painted upon the woman was an intoxicating drug literally called Lust that -- even without actual physical contact -- could cause those devouring it to become stimulated almost to the point of orgasm. If Portia was to remain watching, she'd see the predators lick every drop off the woman, then ravage each other until one and all were exploding in ecstasy.

But the scene was interrupted for Portia when a woman monitoring the room stepped in front her and politely closed the drapery. Portia would have liked to continue watching, just to see what happened, but in addition to being politely sent packing, Vincent was also calling her down to yet another doorway.

She arrived at the doorway just as a male voice inside called out, "Vincent! My man! Get your fucking clothes off and your dick out and fuck something with me!"

The room was the very definition of orgy, with nearly a dozen naked people spread out across an oily floor clutching, grasping, probing, licking, kissing, sucking, and more. The man calling to Vincent was having his own cock serviced by a man and woman both. She said with certainty to Vincent, "Yom Vistom, I presume?"

Vincent gestured the man toward the door, "I need a moment, Yom. Business. You'll want to take this meeting."

Yom spoke to the couple pleasuring him; the woman kissed him with oily lips, then slid over his slippery body to position herself to begin sucking on the other man's cock instead. Yom stood and gingerly made his way through the writhing mass of bodies to near Vincent.

Portia couldn't help but take note of the man's dangling cock. He was bigger than Marcus but not as big as Vincent; his groin was shaved smooth as a baby's butt, though, which had him appear longer and more conspicuous as well. Portia liked that. The two of them met gazes and shared a smile.

"Vincent here tells me that you have a crew that might be up for a job," Portia jumped directly to the business at hand. "You'd be well paid for your services. It could be dangerous, though ... I'm hoping not. If you wanted to finish up here and join us out in the bar...?"

 

[HumanBean]

Emmanual 4 Interstellar Cargo Transfer Station

Aboard Shuttle 5:

(OOC: Same comment as Alice's regarding imaging Carla's image. And about Portia's image, I'm not even certain that this isn't a photoshopped image of Melissa O'Neil. I know that I can use my imagination. )

Marcus let his gaze take a walk up and down Carla's nude body as she strode toward him. He literally growled in hunger as she reached him to take her bag of clothes.

She smiled and, responding to his offer to dry her back, said, "Next time."

He watched her just as intently as she walked away from him. Marcus couldn't think of a woman he'd seen this way who'd looked as good as Carla. Portia came to mind, of course. The boss had an incredible body as well. Marcus's brain took another leap, thinking of Betty, and then Rachel.

He was surrounded by beautiful women like he never had been before. As he waited for Carla to dress and prep, Marcus nearly snuck off to beat his meat to the fantasy of being in bed with all four of the beauties. But it'd have to wait. Portia and Vincent were out in the station surrounded by potential dangers, the biggest of which were the Authorities.

When Carla finally emerged, Marcus laughed. That body he'd just seen naked was now nowhere to be seen. Speaking of the oversized coveralls, he asked, "Really? You're going out like that?"

"This shouldn't attract any attention," Carla said. "Portia told me before she put me in that Engine Room oven that I need to be inconspicuous."

"Well way to go the extra mile," he laughed as they turned to leave.

They had to retrieve Carla's ID Card that would get her access to one of the clean accounts Betty had transferred the Admiral's money to. There was a banking kiosk just a couple of yards outside the transfer station's gate. Marcus caught Carla by the arm as she turned for it, though. He told her, "Not this one."

He kept hold of her hand as he led her away from that kiosk and past a second one. He led her aside to a little alcove between a tavern and a laundry, saying, "Let's just take a moment."

After a bit, he told her, "Without looking like you're looking, take a peek across the walk. The guy in black, next to the taller guy in gray. See'em?"

When she caught sight of the two, Marcus told her, "They'll rob us before we get fifty yards down the walk. Let's find another one."

They continued onward, turning off the main walk for a narrower yet still crowded one. They spent ten minutes weaving this way and that while feigning to be window shopping. Marcus turned Carla toward the window of a pastry shop, saying, "In the reflection, to your left, across the walk. See'em? Same two guys."

He took her hand again and strolled slowly away. "Someone at the docks probably sent them after us."

"Do they know who I am?" Carla asked with concern.

"Doubt it," Marcus said. "They just know that we came in on a shuttle and are probably here to spend some money. Most of the shops this close to the docks don't take Corporate Cards. It can take days, sometimes week to get reimbursement. So, they only take actual credits.

"It's not nearly as safe 'cause the shops can get robbed, too," Marcus said about the businesses having cash on hand. "But most of the shops are protected, either by the Authorities or by gangs. So, none of the locals are stupid enough to rob them."

"What're we gonna do then?"

Marcus answered this by suddenly turning Carla into a narrow alley between two businesses. He hurried them down the path to the end, curled to the left, then stopped short. Looking around and finding no one paying them any undue attention, he said, "Be casual."

He pulled his sidearm, adjusted the setting, paused, and listened. Over the ambient sounds of the busy marketplace, Marcus could hear the quickly approaching boot falls of their pursuers. He stepped back into the alley's opening, lifted his weapon and let off half a dozen blasts. The two thugs jerked and twitched as they fell to the pavement.

Holstering his weapon, he took Carla's arm and led her away. "They'll be out for several hours, and when they finally regain consciousness, they'll be too loopy to give any information about us to either the men who sent them or to the Authorities."

He smiled to Carla, pleased with his solution. "Time to go get your money, honey."


In the brothel:

Yom Vistom strode over to his friend and his friend's beautiful mate. He showed no concern about his semi-hardened cock dangling free before him. He was, after all, in a brothel. Just as Portia couldn't have helped ogling his cock, Yom couldn't help but ogle Portia's breasts.

And her guns. Yom liked a woman who could take care of herself. The weapons she carried were serious hardware for a serious woman. Yom shook hands with Vincent, then looked to Portia. He offered out his hand, then looked at it. It was shiny with the sex lube flooded about the orgy. He laughed, withdrawing his hand as he said, "Sorry 'bout that. Who are you, my pretty?"

"Vincent here tells me that you have a crew that might be up for a job," Portia went directly to the point.

"Depends on the job, of course," he said. "I have 6 who will do anything I tell them to do. Another 6 or more who go where the money is when the money is good. Is the money good?"

"You'd be well paid for your services," Portia responded.

Yom looked to Vincent, who nodded. "The pay's good. Trust me."

"I don't suppose we're helping you move some boxes from one bay to another?" Yom asked. That was basically his way of asking whether there was anything illegal or dangerous about the job.

Portia must have understood as her answer was, "It could be dangerous, though ... I'm hoping not."

"A little bit of danger never stopped me from at least hearing the details of a job," Yom replied. He let his eyes walk up and down Portia again before asking, "Are you in a hurry? Or would you like to join us for a while. You paid to get in here after all."

But Portia let him know that that wasn't going to happen with, "If you wanted to finish up here and join us out in the bar...?"

Yom lifted his arm to look at his band. It was just beginning to show signs of glowing. He looked back to the pair he'd been playing with earlier. The woman pulled her head back, grasped the man's cock, and stroked it to explosion. He casually reached to his own cock, finding it stiffening. Looking back to Portia, he smiled. "Gimme five minutes."

Vincent laughed and turned Portia for the door. "He won't be any good to us if he doesn't finish here."

They headed out to the brothel's bar to order drinks. While they waited, a trio of men in Corporation Military Force uniforms came through the door. Vincent turned his back to them. He could still see them in the wall mirror behind the rows of bottles but they now couldn't see his face nor Portia's, who was beyond him.

"They're not wearing bands," he told his boss. "They're working. And one of them is carrying a scanner."

He saw in Portia's face that she understood what that meant. The trio were on the prowl for people with warrants out for their arrest. There was little doubt whatsoever that Portia, Vincent, Marcus, and even Carla were already in the list of wanted people being shared around the Mid-Reaches.

While Betty had been able to fabricate temporarily effective papers for the Venture, there'd been nothing she could do in the time they'd had to do anything about the crew's identities. The cyborg needed access to an official Corporate Data Terminal to be able to corrupt the personal files for the trio and, possibly, Carla, too. That corruption hadn't happened yet, which left them vulnerable at this moment in time.

(OOC: Gonna let you decide what happens here. Aren't I just the best? )

 

[HumanBean]

(OOC: I changed the ending to the section above for Marcus and Carla. If you are following our story, you'll want to reread that portion.)

 

[Alice2015]

Emmanual 4 Interstellar Cargo Transfer Station

"What're we gonna do then?" Carla asked Marcus when he told her they had wannabe muggers trailing them through the Marketplace. His solution -- shooting the men -- shocked the hell out of her as she didn't initially understand that he'd only pulsed them into unconsciousness.

"Time to go get your money, honey," he told her as he led her into the market.

Smiling, impressed to hell at what he'd done, Carla reached a hand down to cup his crotch, telling him, "I'm gonna let you dry my back ... and more ... as soon as we get the fuck off this planet."

In the brothel:

"He won't be any good to us if he doesn't finish here," Vincent said about Yom and the man's need to complete his work here in the brothel.

"Maybe we should help him complete that work?" Portia joked, smiling to her crewmate and sometimes lover. She laughed, turning with him to leave. "Another time maybe."

Out in the bar, they'd barely ordered drinks before Vincent pointed out the trio of CMF men entering the brothel. He pointed out that they were working, not playing. Portia looked about for a way to casually get away from the men but found nothing; the hall they'd been in that led past the private rooms surely had an emergency exit, but it would also surely be guarded by a man who -- upon also seeing the CMF officers -- would wonder about Portia and Vincent's hurry to get away.

She kept an eye on the men as they moseyed through the brothel's lobby, getting slowly closer on a zigzagging route that didn't seem to indicate that they were looking specifically for either of the Venture crew members. But then one of the men set his gaze on Vincent's backside and patted another officer for his attention.

Portia feared they were about to get company and began looking for something that would work as a distraction. Just within her reach, a nearly naked whore was leaned over whispering into a patron's ear -- likely describing what she could do for him for a few extra credits -- and very near her, a second patron was teetering a bit from too much drink.

Hoping that the approaching guards couldn't see her lower half, Portia kicked her boot out into the whore's crotch, catching her just hard enough in her privates to piss her off but not harm her too terribly. The result was precisely that for which Portia had hoped: the woman popped up tall away from Portia's boot, spun to find out who had violated her, found the drink man looking at her ... and swung her foot up quickly to land it firmly in his family jewels.

As he grunted and leaned forward, Portia put the bottom of her boot on the man's ass and shoved him forward, sending him not just into the whore but into another one and the two men with whom she'd been on the way to a room for some play time. In an instant, a classic barroom brawl erupted, with men throwing punches, women slapping and scratching and screaming in either fear or anger ... and the three CMF officers who'd originally been heading for Portia and Vincent got caught up in the uproar.

"Let's go!" Portia told her partner in crime as she grabbed him and pulled him away from the ruckus. She led the way in a big circle around to the entrance, arriving there just in time to find not only Yom Vistrom but Marcus and Carla as well. "No time for introductions, folks. Let's get the fuck out of here."

 

[HumanBean]

Emmanual 4
Interstellar Cargo Transfer Station
The Marketplace

Marcus found Carla a banking kiosk in a location that presented fewer opportunities for her to be mugged. The neighborhoods surrounding most Interstellar Transfer Stations were typically slums with high crimes rates. The neighborhood here on Emmanual 4's Northern Continent's station wasn't any different.

There was a second concern as well: the Corporation. Marcus asked Carla as she stepped into the kiosk, "Remember Betty's instructions?

She confirmed. The cyborg had explained how to take varying quantities of Credits from the multiple accounts they'd set up. The process was designed to look normal and casual and, therefore, not attract attention from Corporate Banking.

Some of the money would be taken out as cash. Some of it would be put onto plastic that the machine would code and dispense. Still more would be transferred to the chip under Carla's skin on the inside of her wrist. Betty had had to kill the chip's ID tag and reprogram it in order to prevent Carla from being ID'd.

"Don't take too long," Marcus warned. "The longer you're in there, the more cash some thieving fuck watching us might think you're carrying."

Marcus didn't fully understand all of the details of what Betty had explained to Carla. Then again, he didn't need to. He was just her escort. Her muscle. He waited for her to finish, then took them in the direction of the brothel.


In the brothel:

Vincent kept his face away from the approaching CMF officers. He could see them in the mirror which was enough. As they neared, though, he warned Portia, "If they check us..."

Portia had been formulating a plan, though. Almost before he knew what was happening, the bar had erupted in a brawl she'd begun with a well-placed boot. She grabbed him by the arm, leading him away from the tussle as she told him, "Let's go!"

A moment later, the whole group of them practically ran headlong into each other at the brothel's entrance: Portia and Vincent from one direction, Marcus and Carla from another, and their newest conspirator, Yom Vistrom, from a third.

"No time for introductions, folks," Portia stressed as she urged them all outside. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

"This way," Yom said. He turned to the right outside the brothel and hurried off into the usually thick crowd. He led them away from the mostly commercial marketplace into a mostly residential area. It was built of steel shipping containers stacked three, four, even five high.

The containers were the remnants of the initial construction of the station decades earlier. In its early days, far more freight had come to the planet than had left it, leaving the containers available. The longest were typically on the bottom, with progressively shorter ones stacked skyward. This resulted in walkways where the shorter containers didn't reach all the way to the end of the longer ones beneath them.

Other containers, along with whatever else was available, were cut up and welded to create staircases, ladders, overhangs, gates, fences, doorways, and more. Where paint had been available it was used. But for the most part the neighborhood had retained the mostly grays, reds, blues, and browns of the containers' original colors.

The blocks of the neighborhood were typically tight with little open space. These neighborhoods were mostly low-income areas. The Corporation wasn't going to waste space on wide roads or walks or parks or anything else. The wide-open spaces were reserved for the neighborhoods of the rich and powerful. Those neighborhoods were not near the Transfer Station.

Yom lead them through ever narrower walks and alleys. They eventually came to the neighborhood of Blackdown. This was Yom's home of the last few years. He and his Family (aka gang) ran the neighborhood. They kept it free of crime and violence. Well, except for the crime and violence they themselves perpetrated, of course.

His Family was comprised of Legits and Illegits. The former were the people who, for the most part, worked hard for their money in legal, approved jobs. The key phrase there was for the most part. There probably wasn't a one of them who hadn't had some sort of run in with the law in the last few years. But (again) for the most part, they tried to do the right thing.

The latter, the Illegits, were the thieves, conmen, whores, muscle, and more who brought in most of the neighborhood's income. They made it off the backs of those living outside the Blackdown, of course. Family didn't harm Family, ever.

Yom waved a couple of guys over to him, gave them some orders, then sent them on their way. To Portia and Vincent, he said, "My guys'll be here in a bit."

He gestured toward an outdoor kitchen under a cover made from miscellaneous materials. "There's food, drink. Help yourself. It'd be nice if you dropped a few credits in the cans, of course."

Vincent didn't hesitate to pull a wad of Cash Credits from his pocket. He flashed it to the woman turning meat over on a sizzling grill, then stuffed it into a can hanging from a wire.

"So, you have an offer for us," Yom said to Portia as he handed her a bottle of home brew beer he took from a cooler. Actually, the word cooler was a misnomer as ice wasn't something you found in the Blackdown. He dropped into a chair, gestured her to one beside him, and said, "Tell me about it."

A little girl with tattered clothes and a smudged face ran up to Portia, smiling as she reached into her pocket, fishing for Credits. Yom chastised her, apologizing to the Captain, "I'd tell you that times were hard around here lately, but really, lately would be the wrong word."

 

[Alice2015]

Emmanual 4
Interstellar Cargo Transfer Station
The Blackdown Slum

Portia was happy to be armed as Yom Vistom led them from the Marketplace to the Blackdown slum. The longer their stroll lasted, the more scary-looking people Portia found looking at her as she was a mugging victim in the waiting. She'd seen neighborhoods like this on just about every planet to which she'd made a visit; the first lesson to establishing a new planetary settlement was to learn to use what you had available to you.

They were walking pretty much single file once they got deep into the Blackdown, where the ability to travel side-by-side became impossible in places. Portia had lived the last decade or more of her life in the cramped space of the Venture, and yet these alleys made her yearn for the room the Mothership and Shuttle 5 provided. Close quarters was not a place to be when you didn't feel safe.

Portia looked back over her shoulder at Carla a couple of times, finding the woman looking seriously nervous. She was dressed in loose-fitting, oversized coveralls to hide her delicious figure, but Portia knew that even that unappealing look wouldn't protect her if they were walking into a trap. Portia looked to Vincent with a knowing expression; she wanted to know what he was thinking about this trek into unknown space.

"My guys'll be here in a bit," Yom told them after they reached their destination and he sent some runners to collect his cohort. He gestured toward and outdoor kitchen, saying, "There's food, drink. Help yourself. It'd be nice if you dropped a few credits in the cans, of course."

Portia looked to Vincent, who immediately pulled out some Cash Credits. It was ironic that his showing his generosity might also make him a target for theft. But Portia had the sense that she and her crew were safe here, under the watchful eye of their host.

"So, you have an offer for us," Yom said as he handed Portia a bottle of home brew, dropped into a chair, gestured her to sit, and said, "Tell me about it."

Suddenly, a little girl was trying to fish money or other valuables out of Portia's own pockets. Portia grasped the girl's hand tight enough to stop her but not so tightly to either hurt her or gain the protective scrutiny of a parent or other concerned neighbor of the girl. Portia leaned over the girl, putting their faces close together, and whispered, "You get nothing for giving nothing. Do you know what that means?"

The little girl shrugged, either uncertain of the meaning or thinking that innocence might keep her out of trouble. Portia reached into a pocket that she knew had three Credit bills of different denominations: C1, C5, and C10. Sitting, Portia flashed them all to the girl in the growing value, instructing, "This one is for you if you get me a plate of food. This one is for the cook."

She handed both of them to the girl, warning, "If you run off with these and I don't get my food, you're not stealing from me. You're stealing from the cook. Understand?"

The girl nodded, then looked to the largest note, asking, "And that?"

"You stick close to me the rest of the time I'm here," Portia said, "And you do as I say ... then you get this at the end of the night, too. Work for you?" The girl smiled wide and nodded emphatically, then rushed off as Portia told her, "I like my meat medium rare. Tell the cook."

Portia turned to Yom, who told her, "I'd tell you that times were hard around here lately, but really, lately would be the wrong word."

"You're not telling me anything I don't already know," Portia said. She looked around her as she went on, "I grew up in a community like this." Looking to the girl who was holding up a plate as the cook filled it with food, she confessed, "I was that little girl once upon a time."

She looked to Yom, considered how to describe her offer, and began by first speaking of the Venture, then telling of the Wrankle & Conrad Spacecraft Reclamation Depot they planned on robbing. "We can get into the depot ... and we can get out again. However ... we can't get all of this stuff we want just the three of us. We need more hands. Strong men and women who can move fast, take orders, and keep their eye on the ball.

"The deal is as follows," she continued. "A million credits to you personally."

She paused for a moment to see his reaction. That was a lot of money, likely more than he'd ever imagined making on one job without having to relocate to some distant part of the Quadrant for the remainder of his life. She continued, "50,000 Credits to each of your cohort who join the job and pull their weight. Plus ... once they've loaded everything on my list ... anything else they manage to get out by the time that I say we're done ... you get to keep and sell or use or whatever."

 

[HumanBean]

Emmanual 4
Interstellar Cargo Transfer Station
The Blackdown Slum

""I grew up in a community like this," Portia said. "I was that little girl once upon a time."

Yom looked at Portia as she spoke, then into her eyes as she looked to him. He smiled knowingly. He could see the little girl in her eyes.

Yom listened as Portia explain their plan to infiltrate and rob the boneyard. He couldn't help but smile wider as she went on. Her plan was crazy.

"A million credits to you personally," Portia said.

Yom laughed aloud. He started to respond but paused He looked around for eavesdroppers. This was Yom's neighborhood. His community. He knew these people. And he knew that someone was always listening. Knowledge was power. Even in the Blackstone.

"I probably shouldn't say this," Yom said, "but that's more than I choosing make in a year."

He chuckled. "I'm not trying to talk myself out of money. I just don't want to make a deal with you, only to have you realize later that you're overpaying me."

"50,000 Credits to each of your cohort..." Portia continued. She talked about how his people could filtch anything else they wanted after they were done getting what she wanted.

"You have a shopping list, yes?" Yom asked.

She confirmed that she did. They discussed that list. Yom had a surprisingly in-depth knowledge of military hardware considering that he'd never been in the military.

"Let's assume that the three of you, Vincent and Marcus and you, dedicate yourself to managing this little toy heist," Yom said. "To get the things you want as you described them is going to take at least 12 guys. I"d prefer more, just to be sure. Say ... 16."

He thought he saw something in Portia's reaction and laughed. "I'm not just trying to get you to pay for more of my people. I just want to make sure I've got the man to get your job done.

"If it helps," Yom continued, "you can skip the fifty grand for the extra 4. I'll take care out of them on my end."

They talked more about the details. Yom wasn't concerned about his people. The men and women here had in mind were well suited for this.

Yom's only concerns were getting in and getting out. Alive. He told her bluntly, "If this goes wrong, it won't just affect the people participating."

He looked around himself at his community. He caught sight of the little girl as she was nearing with Portia's plate. After she stepped away, Yom said, "She won't be safe here. None of them will."

 

[Alice2015]

Emmanual 4
Interstellar Cargo Transfer Station
The Blackdown Slum

"You have a shopping list, yes?" Yom asked.

Portia reached into a pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper; she hadn't wanted to carry around a tablet that could get stolen or hacked remotely, so she'd written the list on paper that was both dissolvable and edible. It was even tasty, Betty had told her.

Yom talked about the division of responsibility -- Vincent, Marcus, and Portia supervising the others as laborers, in a sense, and suggested, I'd prefer more, just to be sure. Say ... 16."

Portia's first thought was that that was a lot of heads to be paying C50,000. Yom saw that in her expression, though, and countered. "If it helps, you can skip the fifty grand for the extra 4. I'll take care out of them on my end."

"No," she told him. "I'll pay for sixteen. I just have to know that they'll retrieve what's on my list first."

They talked more, particularly about getting in and getting out. "Betty and Marcus have this all mapped out. I've looked at the plan, and I think it'll work. If I didn't, I wouldn't even try."

"If this goes wrong," Yom said, "it won't just affect the people participating."

The little girl delivered the plate of food and collected her C1 note. She smiled so broadly that Portia thought her head might split from side to side. Portia flashed the C10 note to her, asking, "Do you know someone who shines boots?"

"I do," the little girl said; Portia would learn that the girl's name was Baby Girl, a story that Yom said he'd explain later. She ran off to retrieve a shoeshine box that, Portia would also learn later, actually belonged to Baby Girl's older brother.

Yom said about Baby Girl, "She won't be safe here. None of them will."

"We do this right," Portia promised, "and none of them will have to worry about anything." Looking around, she asked, "Where can I take a pee?" Yom pointed to the door in a nearby container, and as Portia stood to head that way, she paused and looked about. Stepping back closer to Yom, she asked, "How many of these people do you personally feel responsible for?"

He answered, and she explained her inquiry with, "If you think it's too dangerous for them to remain here after we've done this job ... you know ... in case something does go wrong ... they would go with us now. I mean, I do have a Venture-class transport ship that can support up to 200 crew and family."

 

[HumanBean]

Emmanual 4
Interstellar Cargo Transfer Station
The Blackdown Slum

"No," Portia told him. "I'll pay for sixteen. I just have to know that they'll retrieve what's on my list first."

"Every hand, every second," Yom reassured her. "They work for you until you say you're done with them."

"We call her Baby Girl", Yom explained. "We found her abandoned in a garbage can when she was just two days old. We knew who the mother was, of course. Blackstone is tight. If it's worth knowing, I know it. Or someone I know knows it, which means I ultimately know it, too."

Yom smiled. He was pretty happy with his connections, not just in Blackstone but across the Terminal.

"I could have forced the mother to take Baby Girl back," Yom said. "Could have watched over her. Made sure she had what she needed to take care of her daughter.

"But sometimes..." be started before pausing. "It was better to put her with someone who I knew would care for her, love her, want her.

"Baby Girl's life hasn't been the easiest or the most luxurious," Yom went on. "But it was better than she was facing staying with her birth mother."

Portia stood to go find a place to pee. She turned back, skiing, "How many of these people do you personally feel responsible for?"

Yom looked about the crowd. He'd never really thought of that before. He pretty much ran Blackstone. Hundreds of men, women, and children lived in the neighborhood. Many if them worked here, too. The rest worked the transfer station, the marketplace, or the higher class neighborhoods.

"Well, that's a hard thing to quantify, really," Yom answered.

Then she proposed something Yom could never have imagined. "I do have a Venture-class transport ship that can support up to 200 crew and family."

Yom chuckled, very surprised. Was she really suggesting that he pack up 200 of his favorite people and lift them off the planet for life on a spacecraft?

He thought for a moment, looking about his people. He looked to Portia again. "The 16 I want for the job. Plus..." He ran some general thoughts through his head. "Another 40. Maybe 50. Wives, husbands, children. Parents. Associates who might be implicated if this goes bad. People that the Corporation might blame, even without evidence."

Baby Girl hurried up with the shoeshine box. Yom laughed at the child's enthusiasm. He asked her, "Would you want to live in space, Baby Girl?"

"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed.

Yom looked to Portia, smiling. He shrugged, correcting, maybe 60. 70?"

 

[Alice2015]

Emmanual 4
Interstellar Cargo Transfer Station
The Blackdown Slum

The story of how Baby Girl came to be living with Yom's people was heartbreaking to Portia, but it wasn't the first time she'd heard something similar to it. Centuries ago, the Corporation had outlawed abortion in an attempt to increase populations across the Quadrant; women who didn't want to keep their newborn and/or couldn't properly care for them could surrender them to the Children's Welfare Agency, which was little more than a training ground for future labors who often lived in poverty and squaller, often as little more than indentured servants.

In Baby Girl's case, she was being raised by an older woman who'd raised several other orphans over the years. She lived close to poverty as did most of the children in Blackdown, but Yom and his people made sure that no child went to bed hungry or found themselves the victims of abuse, sex trafficking, or any of the other dangers orphans and other children suffered in many other cases.

"The 16 I want for the job," Yom answered when Portia asked him how many of his people he felt would be better off leaving the slum after the job, to keep them from being connected to it, blamed, and punished, even without evidence. He continued, "Plus ... another 40. Maybe 50."

As Baby Girl began unboxing her shoeshine materials, Yom asked, "Would you want to live in space, Baby Girl?"

"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed.

Yom looked to Portia and -- rethinking his community and his earlier number -- corrected, "Maybe 60. 70?"
"I can do that," Portia told him.

"What're you doing?" Carla asked from nearby; she'd heard the conversation and had been listening in. She asked Portia, "Can I talk to a second?"

"Be right back," Portia told Yom, smirking as she knew she had a scolding coming. The two women walked a few meters away. "Is there a problem?"

Carla was obviously shocked by the conversation upon which she'd been eavesdropping as she repeated, "What're you doing?" She peeked back at Yom, then looked to Portia again. "You offering his people residence on the Venture? Is that smart?"

"What's the problem?" Portia challenged, munching the charred meat she'd brought with her from her plate.

"What're you gonna do with ... how many did he say, 70 people?" Carla asked, looking around herself at the community from which those people would come. Quieter for only Portia's ears, she reminded her, "Most of these people are probably criminals. A lot of them probably have warrants from Corporate Law. There're women and children. What're they gonna do on the Venture?"

"Probably the same things they do here," Portia answered. "Cleaning, cooking, laundry. Who do you think is going to do those things?"

"We are," Carla answered.

"Do you cook?"

Carla hesitated; she hated cleaning, cooking, and doing laundry, and before Portia's pirates stole the Venture, one of the crew members had been assigned as an Aide to Carla and her husband to do things and more. Portia continued, "Plus, even though Vincent, Marcus, Betty, and I can operate the Venture, if we run into a serious mechanical issue ... if we suffer a decompression from space debris or a fire or whatever ... we might need help to save the ship. We need more hands."

Carla studied Portia a moment, smiled knowingly, and said, "You were going to do this all along, weren't you? Maybe not here on Emmanual ... or here in Blackdown ... but somewhere, sometime."

Portia's lips spread in a confirming smile. She bit off some more meat, chewed, then said, "I have a shoeshine waiting for me. These boots are in need."

Carla chuckled softly, saying, "You're one sharp cookie, Portia."

<<<<<<< >>>>>>>
​

The Venture's crew members, Yom, and some of his Lieutenants gathered around a fire pit and chatted about the possibilities for their future for a couple of hours before Portia stood and said, "We need to get back to the Shuttle. We're decided then, yes?"

Yom still had some details to work out regarding the men and women who would participate in the raid on the boneyard, as well as which community members would join the Venture either for their safety or simply for a change in scenery. Portia repeated that upon which they'd already decided, "You and your people make your way to the Shuttle in 12 hours. Casual. We don't want to attract any more attention than we have to."

The four who'd come from the Shuttle headed back again; they were accompanied by four of Yom's people who were joining the crew; and between them the carried a good deal of food, gear, and other things that would be needed. On the way, Portia and Carla stopped at four different vendors to arrange payment for and delivery of even more food, gear, and ... other things. When they arrived at the Shuttle, Betty -- who'd been in constant contact with Portia -- deducted the new resources from the shopping list she had in her head.

The three females -- Portia, Carla, and Rachel -- worked with the new crew to determine how to comfortably put up the new passengers in the cramped quarters of the shuttle; Vincent and Marcus, as well as Betty the Cyborg, worked with other crew on issues related to the needs of the transport and its increased community, as well as how to best store the new stores.

<<<<<<< >>>>>>>
​

Twelve hours later, they were ready to leave Emmanual. To cover for the large number of people leaving the planet without properly arranging emigration, a near constant parade of people had moved between the Shuttle and the Transfer Station. Four or five of Yom's people would deliver goods to the Shuttle, but only three or four of them would disembark. One by one, the number of occupants on the vessel increased until -- including the original crew -- the eventual number of them was 66, not as high as Yom had estimated yet still almost twice the Venture's original crew level before the piracy.

Portia contacted Flight Control, verified proper fueling, safety checklist completion, and docking fee payment. After that, they were outta here...

 

[HumanBean]

Emmanual 4
Interstellar Cargo Transfer Station
The Blackdown Slum

"What're you doing?" Yom heard Carla asking Portia with surprise. Or was it shock? No, it was disbelief. The woman called the Pirate Captain aside with, "Can I talk to a second?"

"Be right back," Portia told Yom.

"No hurry," he responded.

He watched the two women walk off together. He studied them from afar. It didn't take a genius to understand that Portia had changed the group's plan.

Yom caught sight of one of his Lieutenants and gestured him over. Lieutenant wasn't a military designation, of course. It was closer to an organized crime term. Closer, but not precise. Yom didn't think of himself as a member of organized crime, even if the Authorities did.

He gave the man a list of names and sent him off to retrieve those people. When Portia returned, he introduced them all. He explained what each of them had to offer her as part of their crew. Some of them had experience on interstellar space vessels. Mechanics, electricians. The like.

Two men were former Corporate Military Force. Two others, a man and woman, had been with the Interstellar Space Force. Another pair had been with the Emmanual Police Authority, until each had been discharged for corruption. Comically, they told Portia almost simultaneously, "I was innocent", then laughed and bumped fists.

As the conversation continued, Yom called others over as well. Some were simple laborers who he knew would work hard for such an opportunity. Others were little more than family to the previously introduced people. But all, Yom promised, were loyal to him and ready to work hard to get out of the Blackdown slum and even off Emmanual 4.

"You and your people make your way to the Shuttle in 12 hours," Portia instructed, adding, "Casual. We don't want to attract any more attention than we have to."

"They'll never see it," Yom said, speaking of the Authorities or anyone else who could possibly be a problem. "12 hours."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx​

What came next wasn't at all new or unusual for Yom Vistrom. This wasn't his first time getting people, possessions, or goods onto an outgoing shuttle without full, legal authorization. It all came down to making things look like legitimate, normal operation.

The supplies going onto the shuttle were the easiest, of course. One of the terminal's chief duties was resupplying shuttles visiting Emmanual. Yom put together a crew of 10 to deliver food, parts, fresh water, oxygen generators, and more.

Getting the emigrants on board was a bit more difficult. It was done in several ways. Some of the younger children were packed up in large containers and told to see silent and still. Other goods were put over them to hide them. Yom was surprised that this went as well as it did.

Some of the older women came aboard under the guise of being prostitutes serving the shuttle's crew before departure. Yom pulled this operation three times over the hours between the start of the operation and the ending of it. Each time, two or three of the women remained behind. They helped with the other work, as did some of the men who slipped aboard in similar fashions.

Everything in between legitimate resources and people smuggling was pretty simple. Yom paid off a couple of the Emmanual Police Force officers to look the other way. That wasn't uncommon at all. Corruption on this planet was a chief business, as if was in so many other places.

Things began to get a little cramped as time went on. The shuttle was constructed for transporting a great deal of cargo. Still, 66 people and their things, plus replenishment resources, took up a lot of space.

Yom moved from one compartment of his people to another, reassuring them that all was fine. More than half of them had never been in space before. Half of those who had been in space had only gone from planetside to an orbiting ship and back. They been providing labor or sexual service.

When the shuttle finally powered up and lifted off, there was some panic, of course. But again, Yom and those less afraid helped calm the others. Soon enough, the shaking of takeoff and passage through the atmosphere ceased.

Yom had asked Portia not to engage the artificial gravity units to allow his people to experience weightlessness. It resulted in some hilarity, of course, mostly amongst the children. Eventually, though, the gravity slowly engaged, and everyone returned their feet to the decks. There were some incidents of vomiting, of course. But Yom wrote most of those off to anxiety, not the change in gravity.

"Stay with them," Yom told one of his Lieutenants before he headed for the shuttle's bridge. "Keep them calm and settled, while I go see what's next for us."

At the bridge, he told Portia, "Thank you, Captain. My folks enjoyed that. For the most part, anyway. I'm afraid there's gonna be a little cleanup necessary. But we'll get it taken care of."

He looked at the main viewer as the shuttle approached the Venture. Portia magnified the image to give him a closer view of his and his people's new home and workstation. Yom was impressed. Not just because of the ship's size, though. He was impressed that Portia and her 3 cohorts (Vincent, Marcus, and the cyborg; he didn't include in his piracy thinking the other two women, Carla and Rachel) had so easily commandeered the ship.

At one point, Portia came to stand next to Yom as he simply stared at the image. (He wasn't seeing the Venture through a big frickin' window, of course. It was an image of what was ahead of them, produced by one of the many camera's on the shuttle's exterior.) As he marveled about it and about how Portia was not its owner, he mused, "You took it with just 3 people."

He looked to her with a sly smirk. "What makes you so confident that I won't take it from you? I mean, I won't. I have no plans whatsoever of doing something like that. But the thought had to have come to you at some point over the last 20 hours or so that we've known each other."

 

[Alice2015]

(OOC: Sorry. It wasn't "roleplay" but just a mentioning of a character's <18yo life. Didn't realize there was anything wrong with that. I fixed it. Thanks for the assist, Moderators.)

Aboard the Venture

"Stay with them," Yom told Tam Lee. "Keep them calm and settled, while I go see what's next for us."

"I will," she said with her typically soft, calm tone. "We'll be fine, Yom. Go see to the Captain."

Tam was one of the less-than-50% of Yom's people who'd been in space before. She wasn't actually from Emmanual 4; she'd come to the planet as an Indentured Servant at age 12, then -- once she came of age at 18 -- was sold to a brothel as, obviously, a sex worker. She was good at what she did -- very good -- and quickly gathered a loyal following, both amongst Emmanual 4's well-to-do residents and the better-off, regular visitors to the planet.

She rose to become the establishment's Madam by the age of 24, but after a conflict with the System's new Governor over her under-the-table payment for protection, she simply walked away. Since then, she'd continued to service a handful of well-paying regulars while also acting as something of a Matriarch to Blackdown's most vulnerable. She'd become a respected leader in the slum, a mother to some, sister to others.

Yom had come to see her as an equal partner in Blackdown's functioning, so when he asked if she wanted to come up to the Venture with him, she didn't hesitate to both say yes and give him a list of residents that she insisted on bringing with her. He'd accepted every name without question. Now, as Yom left to go see the Captain, Tam turned to checking on the comfort of the others.

<<<<<<< >>>>>>>
​

"Thank you, Captain," Yom told Portia regarding the fun with the artificial gravity. "My folks enjoyed that."

"Any problems?" she asked; she knew the physiological issues that came with changes in gravity, as well as space flight in general

He spoke of the cleanup that would be necessary, making Portia laugh. "Not a problem. I expected it."

They watched as the Venture neared, with Portia peeking to her right at Yom occasionally. This view was second nature to her anymore, but she knew how it impressed people who were seeing it for the first time or, perhaps, for the first time in a long while.

"What makes you so confident that I won't take it from you?" Yom said after a long while of simply admiring the transport. "I mean, I won't. I have no plans whatsoever of doing something like that."

Beyond Yom, Portia caught sight of Betty stepping casually into her line of view. The Cyborg was listening in on the conversation; unknown to anyone else, Portia had ordered Betty to inconspicuously monitor not just Yom but the entirety of his Community for anything suspicious. Just as Yom was posing now as a thought experiment, Portia had indeed considered the possibility of which he was speaking.

He continued, "But the thought had to have come to you at some point over the last 20 hours or so that we've known each other."

"It has," Portia confessed. She was smiling knowingly when he looked her way. "I'm not an idiot, though. We have safeguards in place ... safeguards that weren't in place when Vincent and Marcus and I took the Venture because the Admiral had no reason to not trust us. I want to trust you and your people, Yom. But I also want you to understand that there is absolutely no way that you can take this ship ... or a shuttle ... or anything ... unless I make it so.

"On the other hand," she said, turning and gesturing him to follow, "I also want you to know that if at any point in time you and or your people want to leave the Venture, I will make it happen. You are not slaves or indentured servants or even contracted workers; you can leave whenever you want ... you know ... depending on where we are and what's happening at the time."

To Betty and the boys, Portia said, "We're going to go back and speak with our new residents. I'll be back in time for docking procedures."

 

[HumanBean]

Aboard the Shuttle:

(OOC: BTW, we are on the shuttle, not the mothership.)

"I'm not an idiot," Portia told Yom. He'd asked her if she feared he might steal her stolen ship from her. "We have safeguards in place..."

She talked about the safeguards. Yom was impressed that she'd put them in place. He would have if he'd been in her place. The former operator of the ship, the man they called the Admiral, had been stupid for not doing the same.

Portia changed subjects: "I want you to know that if at any point in time you and or your people want to leave the Venture, I will make it happen." Portia reassured Yom that his people retained their freedom.

"Thank you, Captain," Yom responded. "I appreciate that, and they will, too. I'll be honest with you, Captain. None of my people want to live the rest of their lives out here in the void aboard a transport. But all of them will stay here with me for as long as I ask them to."

"We're going to go back and speak with our new residents," Portia told the cyborg. "I'll be back in time for docking procedures."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
​

In the cargo storage area, Yom asked all of those in one of the compartments to join the others in the second. As they moved and the space filled, "I know we're packed in here kinda tight, but what I have to say is for everyone, and I don't want to have to repeat myself."

Once all 66 Emmanuals (including he himself) were present, Yom introduced (or reintroduced as was applicable) them to Portia. "You will refer to her as Captain, unless you are told otherwise."

He looked about himself as he continued. "We are here by the Captain's invitation, to do a job that will make our community more money than we could have made in ten years on Em'4. This money will allow us to start new, better lives somewhere else. The Captain had assured me that she will facilitate our relocation to this new, better place, and I believe her."

He turned enough toward Portia to offer his hand as a sign to the others. Looking back to the Blacks, as they referred to themselves in whole, Yom said, "When this job is over, when we have done our duty to the Captain, to our community, and to ourselves, we will then have to decide whether to stay onboard the Venture or move on.

"I want to stress this to each and every one of you!" Yom said firmly. "We are free to leave whenever we wish. This is not indentured servitude. A portion of us -- you know who you are -- have volunteered to partake of this job, and your service will be rewarded."

"What about the rest of us?" someone asked.

"The rest of you, yes," Yom said. "There is work that needs to be done up here, just as there was work that needed to be down on Em'4. Cooking, cleaning, repairs ... caring for the children and the infirmed..."

There'd been a question about 3 of the people Yom had invited. Each of them was disabled in one way or the other. They wouldn't have any direct interaction with the boneyard theft. But Yom had insisted on them coming as each was directly connected to one of the robbery participants. He could have chosen other cohorts. But it wasn't his way to abandon a good hand just because they had a child, spouse, or parent with issues.

"There is a lot of work to be done," Yom continued, "And just like in the Blackdown, I will expect each and every one of you to do your part."

"Are we robbing the Corporation?" someone called out. Another added, "What're we stealing? Is it gonna get us killed?"

As a rumble rolled through the group, Yom looked to Portia, telling her, "I think it would be more appropriate for you to explain things further, Captain."

 

[Alice2015]

Aboard the Shuttle:

(OOC: Yeah, I think earlier I accidentally put some of the Shuttle occupants on the Mothership. Sorry.)


"I'll be honest with you, Captain," Yom told Portia. "None of my people want to live the rest of their lives out here in the void aboard a transport. But all of them will stay here with me for as long as I ask them to."

"Well, I'll be honest with you in return, Mister Vistrom," Portia responded. "I don't particularly want to live the rest of my life out here either ... and if I can find a way to get off this ship to some comfortable planet or moon where the Corporation won't be hunting for me ... the only view of me that you'll see is asses and elbows as I'm running away."

<<<<<<< >>>>>>>
​

In the cargo storage area:

"You will refer to her as Captain," Yom said in reference to Portia, "unless you are told otherwise."

She was starting to get used to being called Captain by now, though honestly, Portia didn't expect most of the Blackdowners or Blacks as she learned they preferred -- to actually call her that, particularly some of the children, women, and even some of the men who might see her less as a Captain as more as just a female.

Yom spoke about her invitation to the community, then talked about the work that would need to be done once they were all aboard the Venture. Someone asked, "Are we robbing the Corporation? What're we stealing? Is it gonna get us killed?"

Yom looked to Portia for an answer, saying, "I think it would be more appropriate for you to explain things further, Captain."

He quieted the crowd down, and Portia answered the question directly, "Yes, we are robbing the Corporation. And while I believe that we can do this without anyone getting harmed, let alone killed, I would be lying if I said there was no chance of either."

"Why should we do this for you?" someone asked, leading to another rumbling through the packed crowd.

Portia waited for Yom to quiet everyone down, then explained, "You're not doing this for me. You're doing this for you!"

There were more questions over the top of questions, and once the crowd was relatively quiet again, Portia responded, "Each and every one of you ... man, woman, and child ... old and young ... those who are going to participate in the robbery and those who aren't ... you are all going to earn from this."

"You already have," Carla cut in. She'd arrived late, having had to make a visit to her stateroom to drop off the Credits and Credit Cards that she -- with Marcus's help -- had retrieved down on Emmanual 4. She held up a bag and shook it; the very familiar sound of metal Credits jingling together filled the room. "Each and every one of you gets some of this just for being here."

She looked around at the faces and explained, "My name is Carla Korlitz ... and this ship once belonged to my husband. I helped Portia, Vincent, and Marcus steal it because I believe in what they are trying to do."

That wasn't entirely accurate, of course; Carla had had nothing to do with stealing the Venture, but the money that she'd stolen from her husband -- both his lifelong earnings and the money he'd stolen from the Corporation -- were a vital part of the future of the Venture and its Crew.

Carla dug into the bag and pulled out coins as she continued with a joyous tone and smile on her face, "Every single one of you -- men and women and children, too -- gets a 100 Credit coin just for being brave enough to join us."

There was great joy in the crowd -- particularly amongst the children as they realized that that meant them, too -- as Carla handed or tossed a C100 coin to one person after another as she fought her way through the throng of people. She looked back over her shoulder to Portia for her reaction; Carla hadn't told the Captain that she was going to do this.

"Now, you children," she continued, "you'll probably have to give your coin to your mother or father or whoever takes care of you, because that's what it means to be a child, am I right?" There was some moaning and some laughing; some of the kids immediately handed their coin to an adult, while others tried to hide them away. "This isn't all, of course. Like you friend Yom said, there will be work that has to be done, and anyone who works, will be paid for that work. Fair wages! No one's going to be cheated after doing a hard day's work?"

"How much?" someone asked.

"Well, we're going to have to figure that out," Carla said, glancing back to Portia, then Yom. Then toward the person who'd asked, she said, "But I promise you that it will be more than you made down in the Blackdown."

"What about the job?" one of the older men called toward Portia and Yom. "If we're gonna be risking our lives to steal stuff that's only for the ship ... weapons and ammo and shit--"

"Shares!" Portia cut in. Then, to clarify, she said, "And we won't be stealing stuff that's just for the Venture and her Shuttles, but that's not really anything I want to discuss right now. Shares is how we're going to be paid."

"How's that work?" someone called out.

"Each and every one you ... man, woman, and child ... will get one share of the net value of whatever we ... appropriate," Portia began. Someone yelled out steal, to which she laughed and acknowledged the appropriate use of the work.

Someone started, "Shouldn't those doing the job--"

But Portia waved the man quiet and continued, "Each person who participates in a job ... be it the boneyard job or any job after that ... earns an additional two shares of the job's net value."

"Whaddaya mean 'net' value?" got called out.

"Some of your jobs will require an investment," Portia explained. "Sources paid for information. Resources expended, such as fuel or whatever. After those costs are deducted, you have the net. Make sense?" No one seemed to have an issue with her description, so she continued, pointing as need be, "Anyone considered a Senior Officer will get one more share as well. Right now, that means me, of course ... Vincent ... Marcus ... Yom ... Carla--"

"No!" Carla cut in. She said with a firm tone, "I'm not taking a share of the jobs." She could have explained that she had more money now than all of the Venture's occupants could probably make in their lifetimes combined. Instead, she only smiled and said, "I'm good. So ... I want my share to go to the children of the Blackdown." There was a youthful cheer. Carla added, "To get books and tablets and everything we need to create a school." This time, only a few of the younger children cheered, with the older ones moaning more as they likely had other thoughts on how to use their money.

"I'm sure that Yom will be nominating Senior Officers from his Community," Portia said, looking to the man. She hadn't discussed this with him, so she wouldn't be surprised to see him surprised. She added, "We're going to need people to work the Engine Room, the Weapons Control Systems ... other things. There will be a lot required from these people, and they should be appropriately compensated.

"After we have purchased replacement resources ... fuel, ammunition, food, medical supplies, etcetera," Portia continued, "We will calculate the values of the shares and pay them out. No one is going to hold your money back to keep it safe for you! We've all had jobs like that, where our employers were telling us that they were keeping our money safe for us, only to then lose it in some scheme or whatever."

 

[HumanBean]

Aboard the Shuttle -- cargo storage area:

Yom was as surprised as anyone else when Carla began distributing the little square credit coins. The joy on his people's faces was obvious and delightful. Most of them had lived their entire lives in poverty. Even those who hadn't had rarely held a C100 coin long enough to enjoy it. Food, housing, health care, and more made such denominations disappear quickly.

Portia spoke about shares. Yom approved, for the most part. He thought the Senior Officers, as Portia called them, should get more than just one additional share. Of course, he was now one of those senior officers. Was he being logical, as senior officers carried more responsibility and faced more danger? Or was he being greedy? Probably a bit of both.

When Carla talked about creating a school, Yom again approved. The Corporation did little to educate the masses. They quietly promoted illiteracy and ignorance. They preferred mindless laborers in areas where the primary industries were mining or farming or basic manufacturing. Learning led to understanding. Understanding of how one was being manipulated and exploited. Learning only led to revolt and revolution.

When Portia finished, Yom politely said, "I'd like to speak to my people in you don't mind." His tone and expression said alone, without you, please.

Once Portia and Carla were gone, the Blacks erupted in animated conversation. Most were generally happy with what Portia had told them. Still, there were lots of questions. Most of the inquiries were about the living arrangements aboard the Venture. Yom assured them that they would be far more spacious and comfortable than the cargo holds of the shuttle.

"I served on a Venture-class transport once," he told them. "They aren't luxury liners, but I think you'll like them as much is not better than Blackdown. Trust me."

"There's more than 60 of us," someone reminded him. "I heard they only had 30-something before this."

"I know, and you're right," Yom responded. "But there's still going to be plenty of room."

He looked to specific people as he spoke, "Families will be together in the larger staterooms, the ones the previous officers used. Couples will get a berthing area together. The rest of you will have to decide who you want to live with. Hey, it's no different than down on Em'4. Some of you were living in four high bunks in cramped cargo containers. I promise you, this will be better."

"What about food?" another asked.

"We brought aboard a considerable amount of food," Yom said. "And Portia tells me they were fairly well stocked before this. No one's gonna starve, I promise."

The conversation went on for another 30 minutes. Yom answered every question he could. For those he had no answer to, he promised one.

Soon, they were told that docking was imminent. Yom told everyone to just sit tight. "An hour or two from now, you'll all be making yourselves comfortable in your new homes."

 

[Alice2015]

Aboard the Venture:

"Marcus, let's git outta here," Portia ordered the man sitting at the Navigation Station once she got reports that the Venture was ready for departure. Vincent had reported both the sub-light and FTLS propulsion systems nominal; Yom had told Portia that his people were situated in their new berthing compartments; and Betty -- connected with the Venture's computers, as always -- had verified that all other systems were ready for travel. Portia said to no one in particular, "Let's get this show on the road."

<<<<<<< >>>>>>>​

Achieving Light Speed had improved over the two millennia since it had first come to be, and yet it was still nothing like science fiction movies and television shows had depicted at the time when Human Beings were only just reaching space for the first time. An hour had passed since the Venture had fired up her engines in orbit of Emmanual 4, and they were only just now approaching LS1.

"All hands, this is your Captain," Portia said into the Comms. "We're about to reach Light Speed. If I were you, I'd find a place to park your butt for a couple of minutes, particularly if this is your first time." She looked to Marcus at the Nav Console and asked, "Where are we?"

He reported the time to Light Speed, then a bit later began counting down over the Comms for all to hear. When he hit zero, the Venture trembled from stem to stern, reminding Portia of the effect her Nav Officer had on her when his mouth and fingers drove her to orgasm. Then, very much like climaxing, Portia's brain felt as though it was swimming with euphoria for a long moment; it would be almost a full minute before she would regain control over her thinking, and another half minute before she was entirely clear headed.

"Report," she said unnecessarily to Marcus; Portia could have simply looked at the panel at the end of the Command Chair's right arm rest to see that they'd achieved Light Speed and were very quickly accelerating.

The Venture's speed would increase at a slightly accelerated rate -- +20% every minute -- until it finally topped out at whatever speed they'd chosen to cruise at. For the trek to the Wrankle & Conrad Spacecraft Reclamation Depot in the Veldane System, Portia had chosen LS5 as their top speed. That speed would put them on the System's outskirts -- out of detection range -- in four days. She wanted some time for three important things: ensuring that Yom's people were comfortable; ensuring that the Venture was running fine with the reduction in knowledgeable Crew members; and training those who were partaking in the robbery of the boneyard.

After Marcus verified what she was already seeing, Portia said, "Very well. I'm gonna go check in with Vincent and Yom. See if they need anything. You have the Conn, Marcus."

"May I speak with you, Captain," Betty asked as Portia was heading off the Bridge. Beyond the door, the Cyborg reminded the her, "You have specified a chain of command yet, Captain. You know that I seek no rank of position of power--"

"But if we run into problems, and I get killed or captured," Portia cut in, "We need to have an established command structure for continuity ... yes ... I know." She thought a moment, then said, "I need to speak with Vincent and Marcus ... maybe even Yom about this before I make anything official. I'll get it done before we reach Veldane ... okay?"

"Of course, Captain," the Cyborg said with a smile.

The women turned away from each other -- Betty back toward the Bridge, Portia aft toward the berthing area. The latter reached the berthing area, finding a number of men, women, and children moving personal possessions up and down the hallway. The previous sleeping/living arrangement for the transport's Crew had been pretty regimented before the trio of Portia, Marcus, and Vincent commandeered the ship: each Senior Officer had had his or her own relatively large berthing compartment; the more senior Crew had had either a small compartment to themselves or shared a larger one with another Crew; and the rest of the Crew had shared compartments with one, two, or even three others.

Now, however, that consistency had been thrown out now with the greater variety in family situations. For instance, there was one family of 6 that would be taking the Admiral's former quarters after Carla had unexpectedly volunteered to move to a smaller space; there were two more families of 5 members each that were also taking larger quarters; and so on and such forth all the way down to the single men or single women who were sharing compartments.

Portia had a feeling that the arrangements at the end of today's shuffling wouldn't be the last she'd see of people moving about, though. Single people became couples and moved in together; couples became singles when things went awry; and -- of course -- there was no guarantee that all those Blacks currently on the Venture would remain here for long nor would the Blacks be the only new occupants to join the ship's manifest.

Portia suspected that as time went on, they'd be bringing more pirates on board. She, Vincent, and Marcus had been talking privately about people they each knew who might make good additions to their criminal enterprise. They knew that -- for the long term -- they couldn't continue with just the three of them and a Cyborg.

Yom's people included some hardened criminals, which brought both pros and cons. She and the Blacks' leader had had a serious conversation about what they would have to do if one or more of his people became more con than pro. They'd agreed that Yom would deal with such issues himself, and -- if she wasn't happy with his moves -- Portia would let him know, giving him a second shot at the problem before she stepped in herself.

She caught Yom's eye, smiled, and asked, "How we doing back here?"

 

[HumanBean]

Aboard the Venture:

"Marcus, let's git outta here," Portia ordered. "Let's get this show on the road."

"Yes, Captain," Marcus responded.

The course to the Veldane System had been calculated three different ways: by the Venture's computer, by Marcus, and by Betty, too. Two steps were normally enough. But the Venture, its crew, and its other occupants were all wanted by the authorities. Portia had asked Marcus to consider this in altering the computer's suggested course. Then Betty tossed in some little fixes as well.

Marcus sat back in his seat to monitor things. He really didn't have to do anything. The computer did it all for them. Really, the only reason he and Portia were on the bridge at all was to compensate for the unexpected.

Once he knew things were going as expected, Marcus turned to other things. He scooted over to the Science Station. He was still fine tuning the approach to the Wrankle & Conrad Spacecraft Reclamation Depot. Their previous delivery visit to the boneyard had provided them with a lot of useful information.

The station was in high orbit of an unpopulated rocky planet, Veldane 2. The Veldane system had been picked for the vessel graveyard for a very specific reason: there was nothing else here. There were no inhabitable planets or moons in the 4 planet/12 moon system. Veldane 2 and 3 had both been considered for mining at different points in history. But the lack of profitability had ended those thoughts.

The lack of Human populations meant that there were no ships coming in and out of the system for any reason other than visiting the boneyard. Anything coming into the system without clearance was automatic presumed to be criminal in nature. Veldane was far from the shipping lanes, so ships in distress never required assistance from Wrankle & Conrad.

Marcus had come up with an idea and presented it to Betty for her analysis. Not surprisingly, the cyborg shot the idea down as infeasible. But they dinked around with variations over and over, using the Venture's AI to run the scenarios. And eventually they found something that would work. At least, they hoped.

Marcus was deep in thought when Portia's voice over the Comms startled him back to reality: "All hands, this is your Captain. We're about to reach Light Speed. If I were you, I'd find a place to park your butt for a couple of minutes, particularly if this is your first time."

By the time Portia finished, Marcus was back at the Nav Console. She asked, "Where are we?"

"One-three-zero seconds, Captain," he responded.

He pulled his seat's belt around his waist and reclined the seat a few degrees. Marcus sometimes lost consciousness during the transition from sub-light to FTL. The first time it happened to him he'd fallen to the floor, thumping his head on a station seat on the way down. It was the source of the scar over his left eye that made his eyebrows uneven.

"90 seconds," he said when they reached that point. Then, as the number decreased, "60...30...20...10...5, 4, 3, 2, transitioning now."

The ship trembled. Marcus's interpretation of what came next was far different than Portia's. He didn't have the near ecstatic sensation that she and many other women did. His head felt like it was going to explode. He felt as if he was going to retch. He never did, but sometimes he wished he would. The relief from throwing up was sometimes such a relief.

His head still ached a bit as he heard Portia behind him say, "Report."

Marcus blinked his eyes clear of the tears that had sheeted over them. Scanning, he responded, "Light speed achieved, Captain." He watched the readings a moment longer. "Standard acceleration underway. Propulsion nominal. Speed ... LS 1.2 and increasing."

He continued to monitor the station's readings, asking Betty for her input. She only said, "All systems nominal, Marcus."

"Speed LS 1.78," he said after 3 minutes. At just short of 4 minutes, Marcus said, "Speed LS 2." He turned to Portia. "We'll be at LS 3 in another 2 minutes. We'll cut back at about 8 minutes, at LS 5."

"Very well," Portia told him. "I'm gonna go check in with Vincent and Yom. See if they need anything. You have the Conn, Marcus."

"I have the Conn, aye," he said. Marcus had always been professional like this in such important situations. Of course, he'd only recently begun referring to Portia as Captain. Before that, and even occasionally still, he'd called her boss. "Hey, when you come back, maybe some drinks and snacks?"

Betty responded to that before Portia could, saying, "I would be more than happy to get the bridge crew some refreshments."

By bridge crew, the cyborg was referring to Marcus, Hank, and Cooper. The last two were Yom's Blacks, obviously. Hank had 3 years of bridge experience on another model of transport. Cooper had graduated from the Corporate Military Force Academy with 2 years of follow-up education only to be discharged after striking a superior officer.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx​

Yom was sitting atop a food crate watching the mayhem unfolding throughout the berthing area. Almost to the man (or woman), each of the Blacks wanted more space than they were getting. That wasn't at all unexpected to Yom. Pleas were made. Offers, too. Some of them sexual. And not just from the female Blacks.

Portia arrived about the time things were relatively close to settled. She asked, "How we doing back here?"

"Easy peasy," Yom said with a laugh. "It helped that everyone knows everyone else already. They know who they can stand living with and who they can't."

There was a girly scream, followed by a small bag being thrown from one berthing compartment across the hall into another. The bag was quickly chased down by a young boy, who returned with it and got into a shouting match with the screaming girl. Yom laughed. "Okay, so, we're still working some things out."

He gestured for Portia to follow him away from the madness. He asked about the progress of their departure from Emmanual 4. After Portia caught him up, he told her, "I have two guys I want to introduce you to at some point. They're both wizards in the engine room. And there's Erica. She's pretty handy with electronics. She might be of some use on the bridge or in Central Command."

They talked about what the Venture needed and what Yom's people could provide. They arrived at the open door of his quarters. "I took one of the officer's compartments. No one seemed to mind. Okay with you?"

After Portia responded, he stepped inside, gesturing her to follow. "I've got something you should try."

Yom dug into one of his two bags and found a flask. He sipped from it, then offered it out. "Made from a berry indigenous to Em'4. Good stuff. Strong stuff."

He didn't know whether Portia would drink from his flask or not. If she didn't, he'd just take another sip before tossing it onto his bed. Then, looking her up and down conspicuously, he smiled. "I don't want to sound like a dog or anything, but ... you're a mighty fine woman, Captain Portia. And I was just wondering what your story is. You know. Men, women, both, none. Are you currently bumping uglies with one of those guys? Carla? The cyborg? The girl?"

Yom asked in such a way that if he offended Portia, he could laugh it off as less than serious.

 

[Alice2015]

Aboard the Venture:

Yom talked aboutsome skilled Blacks to whom he wanted to introduce Portia. She told him, "I'll be happy to meet them. We need skilled people. When this began as a simple heist of the  Venture, the three of us and Betty were enough. But ... this new direction ... becoming pirates..."

She paused, then chuckled. "It sounds silly saying it .... pirates. I know ... I know that there are people out there in ships ... raiding other ships ... stations, settlements. Still, it just sounds so ...  ancient."

Portia knew her Earth history as much as the next non-historian, so she knew of the pirates that had plagued merchants on the high seas almost from the first days men went to sea to begin with.

Space piracy, though, was a relatively new phenomenon, having begun in earnest only for or five Standard Centuries ago. The development of new and spectacular forms of propulsion had led to Nations, Federations, Corporations, etc., selling off old ships and building new fleets.

That had been followed by a large number of rather unscrupulous characters suddenly being able to get their hands on both intra- and interstellar craft. And thus, the space pirate was born.

She chuckled again, murmuring more to herself than to Yom, "Captain Portia ... Space Pirate."

She followed Yom to his quarters following his invitation; he explained how he'd taken the more roomy space of a Senior Officer's quarters, to which Portia said, "I think you deserve them. Don't sweat it."

"I've got something you should try," Yom told her, offering out a flask and explaining what was in it.

Portia took a sniff, sensed it was strong, but took a big swig anyway. She grimaced, then coughed.

"Good stuff," Yom said. "Strong stuff."

"Smooth," she said with a hoarse tone. She took another swig, reacted similarly, and returned the flask. "Thanks, I think."

"I don't want to sound like a dog or anything," Yom said, "but ... you're a mighty fine woman, Captain Portia."

She laughed again, responding, "Thanks again, I think?"

"And I was just wondering what your story is," he went on. "You know. Men, women, both, none. Are you currently bumping uglies with one of those guys? Carla? The cyborg? The girl?"

Portia laughed, mostly at the idea of being Rachel's sexual partner. Yom hadn't been informed of the true nature of Rachel's presence on the ship; he couldn't know that she was a virgin or that she'd been destined to be the baby mama for the next evolution of the Human Race.

She considered her response and contemplated not telling Yom anything at all. But as she turned for the door, she told him without clarity, "I have a story, yes ... but I don't know you well enough to share that ... yet."

She stopped just outside the door, looked back to look Yom up and down, and smiled. "But who knows. One day, you might become part of that story." She winked, saying as she left, "We'll see."

 

[HumanBean]

Aboard the Venture:

"I have a story, yes," Portia told Yom. "But I don't know you well enough to share that ... yet."

Yom couldn't help but smile at her use of the word yet. It implied the possibility of her wanting to get to know him better. He couldn't help but ogle her form once more. She was a beautiful, shapely woman. She looked incredible. The tight, form-fitting pants hugged her thighs and ass. Her leather jacket emphasized her narrow waist and bountiful bosom. As good as she looked dressed, Yom yearned desperately to see her undressed.

As if reading his mind, Portia added, "But who knows. One day, you might become part of that story. We'll see."

That pleased Yom greatly. Her words bordered on flirting Or promise? He didn't know her well enough to know one way or the other.

Portia told him she was excited to meet his qualified people. Then, she laughed about the whole pirate issue. She chuckled, murmuring, "Captain Portia ... Space Pirate."

"I dunno," he responded. "It works for me."

After she'd left, Yom realized that he was hard as a rock. He'd been so involved in the conversation that he hadn't noticed it until now. Had she? He hoped not. He'd told Portia that he didn't want to sound like a dog. He actually hoped he hadn't looked like one, too.

 

[Alice2015]

(OOC: I recently discovered that the image I saved on Imgur and linked here to represent "Betty" failed. I still have a copy of it on my computer, though, so I linked it to the bottom of this post as an attachment. Enjoy. I'm not going to link it as often as I have in the past.)

Many hours later, on the bridge of the Venture:

"It is ready, Captain," Betty reported to Portia, who was sitting in the Command Chair reading Vincent's updated report on the arms, ammunition, and other equipment they hoped to rob from the Wrankle & Conrad Spacecraft Reclamation Depot. She nodded to the Cyborg, then looked to Marcus, asking, "How long?"

He answered that with the current braking program and no unexpected issues, they would skim past the lifeless rock of Veldane 2 in 18 hours and -- less than an hour later -- begin their rather unorthodox raid of the station. Portia told him, "Contact Vincent and Yom and update them. Tell them I want every member of the raiding team in bed now. I want them well rested. If they need help, the Doc can give them something to help them sleep."

To her surprise, Yom had in the last few hours revealed that his population from the Blackdown included a doctor. Jennifer Keen had once been an Emergency Room Surgeon at a Corporation Hospital but -- after an incident about which she was unwilling to speak -- had become addicted to stimulants, then sedatives, then a combination of both. Yet another incident -- once described only as the unfortunate loss of a child's life -- had resulted in Jennifer losing her license to practice medicine. She'd bounced around for the next few years, working without a license in locations where the patients and other medical professionals care little for such formalities.

She'd befriended Yom a Standard Year ago when -- after a robbery gone wrong -- he'd shown up at her clinic door with a bleeding comrade. Having learned that she was desperate to -- in her words -- get the fuck off of Emmanual 4 at the earlier convenience, Yom had told her about Portia and her offer; Jennifer showed up at his door with one case full of her personal possessions and a second full of whatever medical equipment and drugs she could steal from the clinic at which she was working, asking, "When do we leave?"

Portia was delighted to have a doctor aboard, obviously. She was hoping that the robbery of the spaceship graveyard would go off without any injuries -- let alone any deaths -- but you could never know with an operation like this. And then there was the future beyond the boneyard; with 3 crew, Rachel, Carla, 66 Blackdown residents -- some of whom were children and two of whom were pregnant women -- there was always a need for a doctor.

"I'm going to be in the Game Room," Portia told Marcus, looking to Betty and saying, "Come with me."

As she headed for the exit, she looked back to the man at the Nav Console; Marcus had just come on duty after already having had some time off to eat, sleep, and recreate as he felt necessary. Recreate referred to Portia's recent discovery that not one but two of Yom's female Blacks had already developed crushes on the Navigator. Portia didn't know for certain whether or not the man had taken advantage of one or both of these women's cravings for him, but she would have been shocked to learn that he hadn't.

(Part 2 next.)

​

 

[Alice2015]

(Part 2)

The Game Room:

Portia entered to find Yom and some of the more senior men and women under him leading other Blacks in training, both in hand-to-hand combat and the use of pulse weapons. The attack on the boneyard was to be one of as little force as necessary, and what little force was involved was not to result in deaths or serious injuries; only non-lethal sidearms and pulse rifles were being issued with the exception of Portia, Yom, Marcus, and Vincent carrying potentially lethal firearms.

Portia announced loudly as she entered the compartment, "Okay, Betty tells me that the visuals are loaded, so let's practice!"

She spoke loudly as to gain everyone's attention, and the result was the nearly instantaneous silence amongst the two dozen Blacks in the room. This was a nice change from earlier in the voyage when there had been a couple of incidents with regards to Portia's authority as leader of the Venture. She'd had to perform a little corrective education in one case, taking one man down with a very skillful body throw, followed by the quickdraw of her pistol and pressing of it to his forehead. Since then -- and, she learned later, after Yom himself had disciplined a couple of men in a way that was yet to be described to her -- the Blacks had been far more respectful of her authority.

"Okay, First Squad," she called out. "Take your places and headsets on."

Eight of the Blacks moved onto the VR platforms and latched the waist belts that would hold them in place as they simulated running or walking. The VR system had typically been used by Venture Crew for adventure or combat games; some of them preferred the nature walks or exercise routines; and still others like the dancing program, particularly the ones involving scantily dressed or even nude dance partners.

Portia gestured to Betty, who -- through her constant connection to the Venture's computer systems -- activated the training program. In the view offered by the headsets, the Blacks saw themselves inside a Shuttle's cargo bay at its ramp door, and over the speakers at their ears heard Portia saying, "Okay, we've been over this without the VR, so you already have an idea of what's ahead of you."

As the virtual ramp door dropped, the Blacks ran forward, their feet moved over the rolling platform while they remained in place. The first eight participants had been tasked with seizing the station's Command, Control, and Communications Room to ensure that neither a distress call was issued nor that any arms were issued to Guards. These people would be led by Portia, so she herself had donned a VR helmet and mounted a platform. They ran through the program four times before she was suitably happy with the outcome.

Next came the 8 Blacks who were to be led by Yom, who would lead them to the Armory to secure several pallets of small arms, as well as ammunition for the rocket launchers and missile batteries that would be appropriated from another entirely different location on the station. The small arms were wanted for two very different reasons: first, if the Venture's pirates were to board and rob ships in the future, they needed more firepower, weapons and ammunition that the ship simply hadn't needed in the past as a transport vessel; and second, Portia and Yom both knew people in other locations who would trade for or pay dearly for weapons to support their own resistance against the Corporation.

Portia wasn't that tickled about providing the weapons of death to people who might not be as disciplined about limiting loss of life as she was, which was why she demanded that Yom and his people stick to only cases full of non-lethal weapons. She'd told him firmly, "You come back with cases full of killers, I'll use the first one out of the box to kill you."

She felt confident that Yom understood the sincerity of her threat and hadn't brought it up again since. He and his team went through their VR scenario just three times before both Yom and Portia felt confident about the operation. Next, Vincent arrived to lead his own Squad through their task: locating and retrieving the rocket launchers and missile batteries that would become part of both the Venture's and its Shuttle's arms.

This task involved 30 of Yom's Blacks because of the labor involved. Everything they were borrowing from the boneyard had been removed from its host vessel and stored on rolling pallets for future relocation to either new ships or the recycling plants, which made the job easier than if they'd been sitting in boxes and crates on the floor someplace. But the sheer size and weight of some of the equipment was the issue; the four largest pulse cannons -- to be mounted on the Mothership itself -- each weighed more than 4,000 pounds and required four Crew each to operate the motorized transport equipment to get them out of the storage areas and into the shuttles.

Originally, Portia had hoped that they could get all they wanted with the use of just one Shuttle, but as the planning continued and the list of things available to them to steal became more obvious, it was decided that two Shuttles would be needed. Portia and Marcus would pilot the first one; Vincent and Yom would bring in the second one.

The entire robbery, from the time they docked at the boneyard, would take less than six hours to complete. It sounded like an awful long time, particularly when measured against bank robberies or the average warehouse invasion, which typically took only minutes. But if things went the way Vincent and Marcus said they should, the pirates of the Venture could take as much as 12 hours to complete the theft and get away before any possible reaction force from the nearest Corporation System could even reach the Veldane System, let alone Veldane 2 itself.

If everything went as planned, they'd be in and hour before anyone ever got close enough to even know that it had been the Shuttles of a Venture-class ship that had been involved. That was important, obvious, because -- for now -- Portia didn't want anyone knowing that the Venture was involved in anything like this. For the moment, Admiral Korlitz -- Carla's husband, of course -- and the Corporation for which he worked had no idea where the Venture was or what its mutinous crew members were doing with it.

Portia wanted to keep it that way as long as she could.