A Soldier For All Seasons Ch. 07

"Let's cross that bridge later." Nate laughed, before staring around at the ship. He nodded decisively. "These cargo bays are empty. Pirate ships never have empty cargo bays. There must be a settlement where they sold everything -- if we can find it, somebody should know something, something that gives us a clue."

"A settlement...in the Dead Space?"

"I've heard of them." Nate led her back to their ship. "Smuggler's dens, pirate colonies. The problem is that I have no idea where they are. But I know someone who will."

They had to reverse their course somewhat towards Federation space so that they could bounce their call off a comms buoy, but eventually Nate's call into Pelridge was picked up. The young man's hair was mussed, his cheeks a little red with embarrassment.

"Are you in bed?"

"Uh, yes, sir. The brass have got us in limbo since our Captain has ran off somewhere."

"Sorry. I'm not sure when I'll be back. I think I'm on to something, Dean. In the Dead Space."

Dean's features sharpened. "The Dead Space? What are you doing there, boss?"

"Following a lead. I don't want to say too much, but I need to track down some pirates. You used to run with a gallery of rogues, right? Where's the biggest settlement out here, if you wanted to sell something?"

Dean gripped his chin. "Well, that's easy. Acropolis is the sinner's haven -- it's well, not really a planet, more of an oversized asteroid. But, boss, that's not a pretty place. It ain't just for smugglers with mild contraband. I'm talking trafficking, drugs, whores -- believe me, there's not a friendly face on that rock."

"Sounds like what I'm looking for." Nate said grimly. "Don't worry, I haven't got the friendliest face either."

"I'll send you the co-ordinates but make sure you're caref--"

"Dean..." A sultry voice grumbled, a mass of blonde hair appearing against his shoulder. "Come back to bed."

Dean's eyes went wide, while Nate couldn't help but smirk, shaking his head. He faintly recognized her as one of the Meka pilots, one of Natalia's friends.

"I'll let you go back to it, Dean. Send me those co-ordinates before you...fraternize, okay?"

"Sorry, sir. Yes, sir." Dean said sheepishly, ears red.

The call dropped and Ana giggled from just out of view. "I like Dean." She announced.

Nate shot her a dirty look as he received Dean's co-ordinates. "Don't you start. By the looks of it, he's already got a slutty blonde. Two would be too much of a handful."

Ana sidled into him, his hand automatically dropping to palm her ass. Muscle memory. Fuck, he could swear it felt bigger in his hand, more toned, supremely soft. What was he doing to her?

"I'm already more than a handful, by the feel of it." Ana whispered naughtily. "Are you sure you're going to be handle me?" She bit his earlobe teasingly. "Maybe my Captain is too old for his nubile slutty Lunari Princess."

Nate growled. She was such a tease. He knelt down and lifted her up in a fireman's carry. "Alright, you're asking for it, missy. I'm gonna show you something else we can do without popping that cherry of yours."

Her laughter echoed in the ship, while Isabelle smiled, a hint of melancholy on her face, as she set course for the new co-ordinates.

***

Two days later, they found themselves at Acropolis. Through the bridge screen, they watched it come closer. It was lit like a night club, blaring lights of violet and blue hues, a garish neon explosion that burst out, trying and failing to make a dent into the vast blackness of space. It wasn't quite a planet, but it was much more than a city, a chaotic mismatch of skyscrapers and sliding, oddly aligned slums. A beautiful skyscraper would nestle against a tower of shipping containers.

As they entered its shield, Nate realized those shipping containers had open doors, the little ant-like figures sitting on the edge and watching the world go by.

What sort of place was this?

Pure chaos, the type of place that only power and money ruled. Nate had seen his fair share of dive bars and backwater planets, but this took the cake.

They were directed by hovering arrow drones to a landing point. Nate leaned over and closed Ana's jaw as they landed, the ship creaking, steam hissing from some of the external heatports. Outside the window, droids and dirtied fuel-heads carried wrenches and diagnostic units. A giant of a man stood among them -- the portmaster, ready to collect his tax. He was an ugly bastard, and if it wasn't for the white scars crisscrossing his face, he'd have still looked ugly and dumb. With them, he looked ugly and intimidating, which was handy in his profession.

"They don't look very friendly." Ana muttered to herself as she threw on her jacket. Nate capped her head with her Tigers cap and made sure her long hair fed down her jacket. It was a tough sell, but if she kept her head down, they might not realize she was a beautiful woman. Nate was more afraid of them realizing her beauty than he was of them realizing she was the Lunari Princess -- Ana was now taller, bustier and curvier -- and much more difficult to identify.

Two days previous, wanting to mix it up a little, he'd gotten her nice and wet and then stood her up in front of the bedroom's vanity mirror, before thrusting his cock between her thighs, his veins rubbing between her lips, fucking her thighs, letting the softness of her mound rub him off, drip onto him, lubricating him. For him, it had been a novel way to get off, not that he'd yet tired of her dutiful and regular blowjobs -- if anything, they were getting better. But for her, it had seemed more than that -- she came like they did it in the animated pornos, a volcano of creamy excess. And after, she'd gazed at him with tearful doe eyes, like she'd lost her virginity to her one and done.

As she followed him everywhere, from to bed to bridge, holding onto his hand like she thought he might disappear, entwining her arm with his, it was a constant reminder of how young she was. How impressionable.

Nate swallowed uncomfortably as he surveyed her. She felt his gaze, gave him a beatific smile, hands behind her back to better pronounce her arched chest. Not that she needed too -- her small breasts had become sizable jugs, high and proud, perky and full. They spilled out of his hands when he groped them, pressed against his back when she embraced him from behind. She'd stolen his white wife-beater. After one session when she'd drained him dry so well he thought he was going to have a heart-attack, she'd upped from the bed and stole his white sleeve-less wifebeater.

The sight of her bountiful tits pouring from the sides of it, in his clothes, had his hand in her hair in seconds, pushing her back to her knees.

And that was the trouble of it. Had she just been growing more healthy, her ass curved and peachy, her waist thin, her breasts full, her hair long and glowing, maybe he could have ignored it. Maybe he could have even convinced himself that his cum was just full of good protein, even when she'd shot up in height, her curves even more pronounced now she was tall like a supermodel.

But he couldn't ignore how she'd changed. Still herself, still a proper prim princess, but somehow now willing -- eager -- to be his cockslut, his too-many-times-a-day ball-drainer. She walked around his ship every day like a barefoot pregnant housewife, belly full of his loads, and never failed to give him that heart-stopping smile when she sank to her knees again. Never failed to lick her lips.

For fuck's sake, Nate grimaced, she was orgasming at just the taste of him.

She sidled up to him, pressed a kiss to him, made an 'mmm' noise of contentment as his hand dropped to cup her ass. "Does the Captain need some assistance before we go off-ship, sir?" Her voice, warm and teasing, but unmistakably her. If she'd been turned into a mindless sex-slave, he could have resisted her at all times of day, creeped out. But to have the Princess herself be so willing, it made it almost impossible.

"No-no." He coughed. "That's okay, Ana."

She pouted. "Well, if the Captain says so." Her hand dropped to his hardness, idly stroking him through his civilian cargo pants.

The only thing that made Nate somewhat grateful was her steadfast refusal to take his cock inside of her, between her thighs, to take her virginity. It was a sign that Ana was still Ana, that the Princess was still the Princess, no matter how love-sick and cum-drunk she was. He wasn't sure how much longer that would last though -- she showed no signs of wanting to return to her people, to her fiancee.

Isabelle was studying his semen, still. Perhaps she'd find a way to...well, Nate couldn't pretend that he wanted Ana to return to how she was. Certainly, Ana didn't, since Ana only thought it had improved her body and couldn't see how she'd changed mentally. It would be the right thing to do though, wouldn't it? Ana slid her hands under his shirt, making him shiver.

"Down, tiger. Let's get out of here. The Portmaster will be getting itchy."

Isabelle unlocked the doors and they unfolded forward, clattering down onto the hangar outside to form a ramp. The neon lights streamed in, casting them in blues and pinks and purples.

"Morning, officer." Nate gave the Portmaster his best smile.

The man grunted. "It's night here, outlander. It's always night in the Acropolis."

"Well, that's why I'm here. Bit of games, bit of drinks, bit of looking for work."

"You a smuggler?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. I deal in transport, certainly."

The Portmaster grinned and his scars grinned with him. "You boys always think you're comedians. Not sure why smugglers always coming up with standup routines. Seen the one of ya, seen the lot of ya."

"Well," Nate drawled. "Let's agree not to find a punchline here, huh? I'm not here to make trouble."

"It'll be blades not fists here, sonny, but I'll take your word for it. One hundred credits a day for the bay."

"I'll pay for two days."

The man took his credit-stick with a shrug. "Suit yourself. Forty eight hours, don't make me come looking for ya."

"I won't." Nate promised. As the man's beady eyes started to course over Ana, Nate put his arm around her and pushed her forward.

Into the undergrowth of the city, and the city grew into a planet around them.

"It's a modded ring satellite." Isabelle murmured into his head. "A stolen or discontinued ring system, like they made when humans were first pushing out into space, people living on the inner layer of the ring, curving all the way around, so you could look up and see upside down sky-scrapers, upside down cities, upside down worlds. They stopped making these centuries ago."

"They were a dumb as hell design, that's why." Nate muttered. Ana gave him an odd look -- he always forget she couldn't hear them when Isabelle spoke directly into his head. "Any terrorist takes out the shields and the gravity generators, gives a bit of propulsion from an explosive or two, and they've made themselves a million missiles as one city crashes down into the other."

"Well, the Acropolis leader has thought of one way to solve that." So they had -- up above, on the other side of the ring, it was black, empty. The only stretch of scrapers and slums sat where they were, on the bottom, and curved a little up the side of the ring. One pointed, needle 'scraper pointed out threateningly into the sky, almost horizontal. The building owner had sold their entire side-wall to advertise a strip club -- the Dirty Dozens. The 'y' light was flickering, casting a flashing pink on the masses of shuttles and solo-ships that streamed through the night-sky.

"It's not that big, really." Ana said, sounding a little nervous. "In the Lunari core, we have cities dedicated to nightlife much larger than this."

"But the people out here have come to the Dead Space for a very different type of nightlife." Nate muttered. "These are people running away from their past, or looking for a place to exercise their vices which aren't looked at too kind elsewhere."

"Children?" Ana said in alarm.

Nate shook his head. "No. Not out in the open, at least. Even criminals and pirates don't like child abuse. But sex slavery, black ops merc work, smugglers, drugs -- and not the fun kind."

"How will we find what we're looking for?" She tightened her grasp on his arm.

"Places this big have brokers. It's too hard to fight what you're looking for, so you find a broker who knows the town. You've got the info brokers, the sex brokers, the party-guides. All you gotta do is look for the...that."

Nate pointed to the green I icon, lit up large above a unassuming bar, the window darkened like a sex shop.

"Maybe you should stay outside."

"No way." Ana shook her head. "You'll get yourself shot at again."

"I don't always get myself shot at."

"Well, in my limited experience, almost everyone we've met together has tried to shoot you."

"Fine." Nate grumbled, leading the way into the bar. Inside, the bar was empty and dusty. The bored bartender barely looked away from his battleball game to gesture him into the backroom.

The backroom was a smoky office, clicking, beeping gadgets mixed with crates of mysterious cargo. Ana coughed, wafting away from the smoke. Cigars, Nate thought -- fuck, he'd kill for a real cigar.

"Don't move." A voice from behind. The bartender. A pistol prodded him into the back.

"Easy."

"Just a weapons check." The man grunted. "Hands up."

Nate grimaced as he was jostled through a thorough inspection, the man taking his pistol. To his credit, he didn't spend any more time on Ana.

"They're clean. You'll get your pistol back when you're done."

"Thank you, Therbault." A man stepped through the smoke, the biggest cigar Nate had ever seen lounging loosely from his lips. "My name is Marigold and yes, I've heard all the fuckin' jokes." He was a thin, scrawny man in a brown overcoat and steel-tipped boots. He leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk, a desk covered in a disassembled Tritan rifle with more mods than Nate thought possible. "What can I do for you?"

Nate hesitated. He didn't want to raise any alarms but he couldn't beat around the bush either. "You heard about any heavies in this area? The cloak and dagger kind?"

Marigold snorted. "Spies or spec-ops?"

"Either."

"Here? Not likely. They don't come to the Dead Space. Every idiot knows that. We get left well enough alone -- they could shut us down if they really tried, but imagine if their one of their top boys got caught out by the bugs? Half their generals would have to resign."

"I know that, but I'm not talking about a cruiser. I'm talking about individuals." Nate pushed. "High ups. People who make a trail, leave a mark."

"Like, officers looking to let loose while on leave? Probably, but they don't use their real--"

"No." Nate frowned. "I'm talking about Council heavies, maybe Fed heavies, looking to do some jobs on the sly, without anyone knowing."

Marigold whistled. "Those are some real big ideas you got there, son. Where you getting this from?"

"Nowhere." Nate crossed his arms. "I heard some chatter and I thought the info brokers might have heard it too."

He shrugged, taking a big puff of his cigar and blowing it theatrically. "Nope. I ain't heard it and if I ain't heard it, then none of the brokers have. Sorry, pal."

Nate gave him an easy smile, a little tense. Ana bit her lip, looking between the two. "Fair, no harm in checking. What do I owe you?"

Marigold grinned, arms wide. "I'm in a good mood, ain't gonna charge you for not giving you nothing."

"I appreciate that, thank you." Nate took Ana and made to leave.

"Wait," Marigold's voice took on a little edge. "If I hear something, where you staying?"

"Promised to show my girl the Dirty Dozens, probably end up staying with one of their girls." Nate shrugged. "Get the Madam to reach me, thanks man."

Nate gripped Ana's elbow tightly and marched her out into the night air, collecting his pistol from the bartender on his way out. "Fuck!" He muttered as soon as they were out of earshot.

"What?" Ana quizzed him. "We wouldn't expect to learn anything from the first guy we ask, right? He just didn't know."

"He did know." Nate pushed her along. "No broker in the galaxy is gonna let you walk away for free, even if they don't give you anything. And asking where we're staying? We've got heat on us."

Ana's mouth made an 'o' shape. "So we're going to leave?"

Nate shook his head. "No, that would look bad. They'll lock us from leaving or send some ships after us. Best thing we can do now is to look around, spend some credits, try and look like dumb tourists just trying to make some money, enquire about some jobs. If we look harmless enough, they won't bother trying to kill us."

"That's...not very reassuring."

He squeezed her hip. "We'll be fine. You've got me, haven't you?"

Ana let her head rest on his shoulder. "I do and I'm very grateful." She looked in interest as they passed a group of diners breathing fire into the sky as they ate their fire-farko lizards. "I've never had so many new experiences."

"Well, you're about to get another one. We're going to the Dirty Dozens like we said."

"What?" She looked at him in alarm. "I thought that was to put him off our scent."

"We want to look as truthful and harmless as possible, remember? Lying wouldn't help our case. We'll look at the strippers, spend some credits on some dances, get some food and then try and get off-planet."

"Oh...okay." Ana nodded determinedly as Nate tapped on a street terminal, calling down one of the sky-shuttles. She jutted her chin proudly and stared him in the eyes. "They won't be as beautiful as me." It came out like a statement, but underneath it all, he thought it might be a question.

Nate snorted as he brought her in close and pinched her bottom. "No chance, sweetheart. Have you seen yourself lately? Even before you...uh...glowed up, they couldn't hold a candle to you."

The taxi shuttle dropped next to them, the underthrusters whining, the red light of the doors turning green.

She smiled at him like he'd written her a poem, and as he opened the shuttle-door for her, she murmured into his ear as she slunk inside. "Maybe they can teach me to dance for you."

Nate swallowed. Hard. Perhaps the shuttle could drop them at a pharmacy, first. He was going to need some heart meds.