Three Square Meals Ch. 071

Malifica rose gracefully from her chair, and ordered, "Bull, Groluk, you're with me. Plex fixes the ship, and George, can you see about getting us refuelled?"

"You got it, Boss," Groluk grunted, standing up abruptly and cracking his back with both sets of arms.

The Slarmian glided away from his console on his long eel-like body, not having any need for a chair. He slithered past, arched up into his standing "S" shape, and said, "Plex will do this. Malifica will marvel at his meticulous care of her ship."

George sprang from his Pilot's Chair, but he had a frown on his face as he said hesitantly, "Can't we wait and buy some fuel from the Smuggler's Guild?"

Malifica shook her head, and replied, "The Mirach system would be too big a detour. We're low on fuel, and we won't have time for any side trips when we're doing this job for Hades."

"We're going to get gouged," the young man said with a grimace. "There's no other fuelling station nearby, so Hades can charge whatever he likes."

"You heard the Cap'n," Bull said, clapping their pilot on the back. "Can't be helped."

They followed Plex into the elevator, with the Slarmian flattening himself against the walls to give them plenty of room to enter. George hit the button for Deck Four, and the lift sank to the lowest deck on the ship, then chimed as the door opened with a quiet hum. They walked and slithered respectively, past several entertaining rooms, their doors embossed in garish images of wanton women performing a variety of lewd acts. At the end of the corridor were two doors; the one to the left contained the Armoury, and her crew all trooped inside, while Malifica took the right door into the Cargo Bay.

While she waited for her men to get geared up, she idly rubbed the toe of her boot over the blackened marks that swept across the floor. No matter how hard Groluk scrubbed, he never could completely remove them.

"Everythin' alright Cap'n?" Bull asked gruffly, as he strolled into the Cargo Bay, a nasty-looking auto-shotgun hefted in his arms.

"That was quick," Malifica replied, smiling at him behind her mask.

He shook his head as he stopped beside her, and said quietly, "I've been a while, Cap'n. Groluk wanted to bring two chainsaws until I put me foot down. You must've been daydreamin'."

"It's alright, pleasant dreams this time," she replied, with a rough chuckle.

The rest of her crew entered shortly afterwards, George entering first with his prized MCA 270 Carbine. Given the slightest opportunity he'd talk at length about the latest version of McCarran Arms' short-barrelled rifle; "Designed for boarding actions," he'd announce sagely, to anyone who cared to listen. Plex was the next to enter, with his four heavy pistols holstered in harnesses slung over his rubbery hide.

Finally Groluk stomped into the Cargo Bay, his large reflective shield carried in one pair of arms, and his long-barrelled minigun carried in the other. A snaking ammo feed jutted out of the side of the weapon, then swept around to his broad back, where a heavy pack carried hundreds of rounds of ten-millimetre caseless rounds.

"Bull say no to chainsaws!" Groluk barked, his fanged jaw twisted into what passed for a petulant Drakkar pout.

Malifica sighed, realising this wasn't the last she'd heard of this particular complaint, and she replied, "Yes, they're terrifying, but so is the minigun."

Groluk gave Bull an angry glare as he marched past, and grumped, "Don't make as much blood."

Bull turned to look at her, then rolled his eyes in exasperation. Malifica knew as well as he did that dealing with the eccentricities of a Drakkar warrior could be trying at times, but no one could question Groluk's effectiveness.

George darted over to the control panel mounted on the wall, then hit the button while whistling a happy tune to himself. He checked over his carbine one last time before slinging it over his shoulder, and walking over to join the rest of the crew. The Cargo Bay doors slowly slid open, giving them a sweeping view of the huge docking bay.

Thick cables snaked across the floor, while crates and containers were stacked around haphazardly, with scores of people walking around purposefully. The noise in the docking bay was deafeningly loud to Malifica's sensitive ears, with engineers arc-welding parts of their ships, while merchants bellowed orders at their slaves who were loading or unloading cargo. Tracked carts were the preferred method of hauling around goods in the Underworld, and their clanking progress over the metal decking added to the general hubbub.

There was a fight underway by the closest refuelling tower, with two Bloodnova pirates engaged in a burly brawl, fists flying as they rolled on the ground. Their fellow guards laughed and pointed, laying bets on who was going to win, while stepping out the way of the savage fight.

"Best wait 'til that's over, young fella," Bull said, glancing at George protectively. "Don't wanna get mixed up in some pirate scrap."

"I'll be fine, don't worry," George replied with a confident grin. He patted his carbine, and added, "One look at this, and it'll keep them in line."

The Slarmian rustled over the deck, and said, "Plex will keep an eye on Greenhorn. Terrans always intimidated by Plex's magnificence."

"Hey, cut that 'Greenhorn' shit out!" George objected. "No way is that going to be my nickname!"

"No problem, Podling," Malifica said amiably, as she strode down the ramp to the deck below.

Groluk roared with laughter as he stomped down the ramp, falling into step at her side, while Bull chuckled as he jogged to catch up to her, and said, "Good one, Cap'n."

Malifica strode away through the crowds of people, who rushed to move out of the way of the strangely-masked woman and her two hulking bodyguards. Even though they had a mostly clear path through the crowds, it was still slow going having to follow a snaking trail around all the randomly parked spacecraft in the docking bay. She spotted another Enshunu destroyer, or "pleasure barge" as they referred to them, parked over on the far side of the docking bay. Her anger flared and her lip curled with disgust at the thought of running into any of those foul degenerates.

Ten minutes after leaving their ship, Malifica and her two crewmates finally reached one of three sets of vast entryways into the docking bay. The enormous portal in the centre was bustling with independent traders and merchants ferrying their goods towards the market district. The general convention was that you stuck to the left to avoid barging into the traffic flowing out from Underworld, and the three smugglers dutifully joined the throng of aliens and humanity that were heading into the station.

A couple of Trankaran Miner's Guild merchants were leading a convoy of heavy tracked vehicles to the market, and despite the hefty load of ore containers stacked on the back, they were making good progress. Malifica wasn't in any particular rush, so she followed along in their wake, happy to let the Trankarans barge anyone ignoring the 'keep left' convention out of the way. No longer having to watch her footing, her mind drifted as she strode along at an easy pace behind the rumbling Trankaran conveyances.

It was thirteen years ago when she'd first visited Underworld, or more specifically, she'd been herded into the station in chains. The pirates had got bored of her once they'd broken her spirit, but the captain had enough sense to make sure she hadn't been permanently injured, which would have reduced her value to the flesh merchants. As a wildly exotic and beautiful young woman, he knew she'd be able to fetch a fine price to the slavers at the station.

"Get your fresh meat here!" a raucous cry called out, breaking her out of her reverie, and sending a chill down her spine. The flesh merchants still hadn't changed the way they announced their merchandise in all this time.

She turned to look to her left, and couldn't miss the flesh merchants, given pride of place amongst the very first stalls set up in the Trader's Market. The man who'd spoken was a sleazy looking Terran wearing a blue suede trenchcoat, who was trying to catch the eye of passers-by, to encourage them to check out his wares. Behind him, standing along an immobile conveyor belt which hadn't moved in tens of thousands of years, were his terrified slaves.

The dozen women were all Terrans; young and attractive, they'd been stolen away during raids on frontier colonies or kidnapped by pirates. Stripped naked, they were being forced to stand up straight by a sneering, bare-chested muscular man, who was wielding a shock-probe in his right hand. Electricity arced over the contacts, and she could hear the crackling hum all the way over from where she stood. That sound brought back memories of being jabbed by another sadistic bastard, when she'd been the one forced to stand before the crowds, all those years ago. Those feelings of fear and shame rushed over her, as she relived that terrifying evening all over again.

Mistaking her unblinking stare for interest, the flesh merchant sidled up to her, and said, "Hey, baby. Looking to take a walk on the wild side? I like to accommodate a lady, and you look pretty fine to me!"

Malifica turned to stare at him blankly, her mind still reeling from the onslaught of memories.

"She ain't interested, buddy," Bull said quietly, a hint of warning to his tone.

Shaking his head, the unsavoury man persisted, "I know an interested customer when I see one." His voice dropped a few octaves, as he added with a leer, "They'll do whatever you want, believe me. Even if they don't, it's more fun when they put up a fight! You know what I'm saying, right baby? Tell you what; If you let me know who caught your eye, I'll let you sample the merchandise... as long as I can watch, and maybe join in too."

Malifica was snapped out of her paralysis when the flesh merchant reached out and brushed his finger against the back of her gloved hand. Her hands darted to her hips reflexively, and her Enshunu pistols were half out of their holsters before Bull grasped her right wrist in a firm grip. She looked at him in shock, amazed that he'd attempt to restrain her.

"Beggin' your pardon Cap'n," he said, eyeing her warily. "Just makin' sure you was fully aware of the situation."

Picking up on the note of caution in his voice, she watched as Bull made a point of staring across the flesh merchant's stall. She followed his gaze and saw a couple of enormous Largath guards, who were carefully watching proceedings, their four eyes darting over the crowd as they searched for threats. The brutish aliens were common bodyguards amongst these kind of slavers, their massive strength and unique anatomy making them ideal for keeping the merchandise cowed into submission. Malifica could still remember the sickening screams when she'd been forced to watch a Largath fuck a girl to death with his two-foot cock, her Enshunu master braying with laughter all the while...

Bull squeezed her arm gently, and when she looked at his face again, he glanced to the side at the dozen heavily-armed mercs who were laughing and pointing at the slave girls. She could tell by the burning-planet icon on their body armour that they were from the Ruiners Mercenary Company.

Malifica let her pistols drop back into her holsters, and Bull relaxed his grip and released her. She gave the flesh merchant a cold stare, and growled, "I'm not interested. Fuck off."

He lifted both hands in the air in a mock-defensive gesture, and said, "Your loss, baby. Offer's always open if you change your mind." He snickered and then sauntered back to his stand, looking out for more potential customers.

Bull leaned in, and said, "Sorry for layin' hands on ya, Cap'n. I wanted to off that greasy bastard too, but we can't risk it. Too many mercs and guards."

"It's alright, Bull," she murmured, patting his arm.

Malifica turned away from the frightened young women, though it galled her to do so, and strode along quickly to catch up to the Trankaran carts, which were heading deeper into the Trader's Market. The ceiling of the colossal room arced high overhead, the walls surrounding the bustling market made up of cylinders that stretched all the way up into the gloom above. The market wound its way around the machinery that had been used in the refining process, looping back and forth as the path wended its way deeper into the facility.

Dozens of metres overhead, she could see the maze of ramps and gantries that led up to the upper levels, and the domain of Hades himself. Unfortunately, the entrances to those sturdy platforms were over on the far side of the Underworld, which meant following the crowds past hundreds of stalls with everyone selling their wares.

Underworld had everything its nefarious clientele could ever want, with gun runners selling outlawed weapons, drug dealers selling a cornucopia of hallucinogens, and more flesh merchants selling slaves. There were more legitimate businesses here too, with miners selling ore by the tonne, and hundreds of independent traders buying and selling goods from most of the major empires.

Although the current rulers of Underworld were a Terran gang, it certainly didn't mean that all the occupants were Terran too. There were Slarmians undulating through the crowd, unlicensed Trankaran miners selling ores, and Bract merchants scuttling about and looking to find a bargain. Malifica spotted a group of Kintark traders haggling with a flesh merchant over the price of rugged-looking male slaves, and she couldn't miss a raucous party of Drakkar Raiders who were eagerly test-firing some very loud auto-shotguns.

It was then that she spotted a gelatinous Bolon squelching between the stalls, followed by its robotic helpers. Her skin began to crawl with that same clammy feeling of dread that haunted her nightmares, icy fingers of fear clawing at her heart. Memories of birthing disgusting slime-covered spawn filled her with utter revulsion, and she staggered a step as she retched. Not paying any attention to the crowd, she bumped into a fungus-like Yelneg, nearly knocking it off its six stumpy legs.

"Boss, you OK?" Groluk grunted, steadying her with one of his hefty hands, when she stumbled a couple of steps from the collision.

The Drakkar warrior's guttural voice reminded her that she was Malifica now, and her temper suddenly flared as she felt a rising flush of burning hatred. Her head began to throb, and she stalked towards the amorphous creature, hands clenching in eager anticipation.

"Hold up there, Cap'n," Bull said, shoving another of the Yelneg traders out the way, so he could block her path.

"Get out of my way," she snarled, a dreadful spark in her glowing violet eyes.

Bull slowly shook his head as he studied her, and with a curious expression on his face, he said, "You're on a hair-trigger today, Cap'n. What's up?"

His calm voice soothed her fury, and she blinked in surprise as she cooled down. He was right, she never normally let her temper get the better of her like this. Now she thought about it, she had a weird feeling that itched in the back of her mind. It was something she hadn't felt for nearly forty years. Although she quickly dismissed it as her imagination playing tricks on her, her nerves were still on edge.

She looked her first mate in the eye, and said guiltily, "Must be a bad bout of PMS. Never serve under a female Captain, right Bull?"

He chuckled at her joke, then visibly relaxed as he grinned at her, and replied, "Good one, Cap'n."

The Drakkar warrior at her side started making eerie clicking noises with his fangs scraping together, and when they looked at him in surprise, Groluk blurted out, "Had Podqueen as Boss once. Got big hungry after mating, eat half of crew. I says never again!"

Malifica patted him on his muscular shoulder, and said, "Don't worry, I don't think I could manage a whole Drakkar right now. Maybe just an arm?"

Groluk snatched his arm away in a panic, then when he realised she was teasing him, he threw his head back and barked out a booming laugh. They drew plenty of attention from the crowd, and after nodding in gratitude to Bull, Malifica set off across the concourse once again.

It took them another twenty minutes to weave their way through the crowds until they finally reached the ramp that led up to Hades' upper levels. There were half-a-dozen Bloodnova pirates lolling around insolently at the entrance to the ramp, and their shaven-headed leader glanced up at her as she approached.

"Yeah, whaddya want?" he drawled, openly leering at her curves.

"We're here to see Hades," she replied, resisting the temptation to whip out her pistol and drill a hole between his beady eyes. It proved surprisingly hard to do so, and she was startled by just how twitchy she was at that moment.

The pirate eyed her suspiciously, then leaned his head to one side, and tapped a comm device attached to his black leather jacket. He turned away slightly, then mumbled something over the internal communications channel. After a hurried conversation he nodded her way, and said, "You can go up, the muscle stays right here."

She could feel Bull bristling at her side, but she glanced his way, and said, "I'll be alright, don't worry."

"I don't like this one bit, Cap'n," he grumbled, but he made no move to stop her.

"I look for something to eat," Groluk announced, his jaw snapping up and down as he drooled with anticipation.

Malifica nodded at the Bloodnova pirate, then strolled past him and up the first slope. The ramp was set at a shallow incline, and the left side of its surface was etched with a strange pattern that reminded her of the conveyer belts back near the entrance. It was just as immobile though, so she ignored it and continued her ascent. She reached the first platform, where a couple more pirates were slouching around playing cards. One of them wolf-whistled at her as she glided past, and she heard the lecherous comments from his mates as they discussed what they'd like to do to her.

Gritting her teeth behind her mask, she reined in the urge to emasculate them as she turned the corner, and switched back to take the second ramp up to the next level. It was a long climb to reach the top of this unerringly straight slope, and she marvelled that the robust structure was still standing after nearly seventy millennia. When the ramp levelled out into the upper platform, she stopped for a moment, and stared down over the balcony at the teeming mass of lawless denizens going about their illicit business in the Underworld. If the place wasn't such a festering sty, filled with the worst dregs of galactic scum, it might have been an impressive sight.

Turning away from the long drop to the market below, she looked out over the platform she was currently standing on. Scores of massively thick pipes ran across the ceiling a few dozen metres overhead, before converging into a central hub that ran down to the centre of the platform. The base of the broad pillar was covered in lifeless monitors and consoles, and the strange designs and sigils marking the panels hinted at the otherworldly nature of its creators.

There were more Bloodnova pirates here of course, but she spotted a few Ruiner and Corpselord mercs clustered in groups as well. There was no love lost between the two mercenary bands, but Hades must have been paying them well enough to put their differences aside for the moment. There were several dimly-lit gantries that led away from this area, but she spotted her destination on the opposite side of the platform. Malifica strutted past the bands of mercenaries, feeling their eyes on her, but she didn't deign them with a glance in their direction.

She approached the huge vault entrance that led into Hades' abode, and stepped carefully over the foot-wide grooves in the floor that fit the enormous gear-like door. It was half-rolled to one side at the moment, narrowing the passage into his lair to a ten-foot gap. The sight beyond made her pause a step, as she found herself staring at four multi-barrelled sentry turrets set up in the room, with an accompanying handful of pirates glaring at her suspiciously.