Wild Space Pt. 02

"Jules, grab a seat." It was a reflex, nothing more. It was considered bad manners to sit on the rack of another unless invited. And Kara was currently stretched out on her own, toenails ready to be dyed, her hair drying in a thin, Navy issue towel.

"You said something about tonight?"

"Yeah. You know Commander Leon planted that sun syrup, right?"

Jules very nearly gasped, but he was too shocked to make any noise,and Kara saw it.

"Probably from his own supply."

Jules *did* need to sit. Heedless, he sunk down onto Kara's bunk, causing her to squeal in annoyance.

"I'm doing my toenails, dammit!"

"What do you mean Leon planted the drugs? His own drugs?"

"Oh, to be so young and innocent." Kara singsonged, though in reality she was barely older than he. "You are a real boot, Jules."

"Would you stop insulting me and tell me what the deal is, Kara?"

"Fine, but you're doing my nails." She placed a freshly scrubbed foot on his thigh, massaging suggestively.

"Just because I fuck other guys doesn't mean I do nails, you know." Jules said, but picked up the tiny instrument anyway.

"Never said that, you sensitive ass. I can't bend if you're sitting on my rack."

"What color?"

"Hot metallic pink. Like the inside of a virgin hooker's cunt."

"I'll take your word for it," Jules told her, and swiveled the base of the tiny nail dyer. When it clicked to pink he flashed the light in her eyes. "This shade good?"

"Yes, fine, dammit," She blinked. "You do that too much and it can dye skin, my eyeball, hair, anything, you know."

"I don't wear makeup."

"That much is painfully clear. Now listen," Kara said as he fanned the light over her toenails. "Commander Leon is old. Forty five? Fifty? You don't get that old and get to command anything bigger than a patrol boat in the Navy without leaving some bodies in your wake."

She was right, it was clear that Jules didn't wear makeup. He was making mistakes, dying parts of the cuticles around her toes a hot, metallic pink.

"Have you killed before, Jules?" Kara asked. Luckily, she was being dramatic, not serious and didn't wait for an answer. "It weights on your mind, you know? It weighs on his. How many subordinates do you think he has to get rid of to remain a commander? How many superiors did he kill to get there? How many superiors would Leon have to kill to become an admiral?"

Jules hadn't thought of all that, but it was how any Capital military hierarchy functioned. Assassination, plots, merit. Ruthlessness. Seduction. If an officer was taking up a spot they were a target. If one couldn't befriend or seduce someone and they were standing in one's way they had to go.

"He's also been fighting over 30 years. Ever notice his walk? Leon is nearly a cripple and a mad one at that. So he copes, with sun syrup. I've seen officers who can't function without it. Those that don't do syrup will drink themselves to death, and alcoholism is a nasty way to go. Or whore constantly until they catch a disease. Or go insane and kill someone, anyone, even themselves. You know what I mean?"

"I think," Jules said, even though he understood completely. Magdalena had found or planted evidence on the third officer to take his spot. Although one question remained.

"Why did Leon plant the drugs on the True Venture, then?"

"To take them captive and give the officers and enlisted something to do."

"Or someone to do. Someones." Jules told her, eyes searching the stars outside of the nearby porthole as his hand continued to move the nail dyer over her. "If he regularly gives out captives to his sailors, they're less likely to try to kill him."

"By Ana, I think you have it-hey!" Kara said, ripping her leg away."You dyed my toes, you fucking boot!"

****

As Kara and the rest of the outfit had predicted, they had a visitor that night.

The officers had kept the younger, more pliable woman to themselves, but the former captain Jessa belonged to the lower enlisted. The woman was led to their bay naked but for a collar. Since time immemorial, the Capital Systems officers had worn scourges, its sergeants and petty officers chained batons, and its slaves a collar of thorns. Someone had found real plants to twist around Jessa's neck. It hadn't pricked her, not yet, but one wrong move and she could be disciplined.

An expectant but restrained call was taken up by one sailor, then another, until the entire bay was hooting at the terrified older woman. A sharp hiss from Kara, the senior most and longest serving of them, quieted them down.

"I captured her, so I go first." She said to them all. No one argued.

"Want to join us, Jules? You captured her too. By rights she's yours as much as mine." Kara asked absently. She was eagerly wriggling out of her uniform, revealing a body that was all jagged angles, knees, hips, and elbows. Her breasts were tiny, ripe little handfuls and protruded out from her narrow chest.

"No," He said. "I want to watch."

Jules's lust had left him as quickly as it had come. He had no desire or not enough to resort to a woman. He thought by playing the voyeur card he'd get off without participating.

He was right. No sooner than the refuel had left his mouth was he ignored. Kara has a saunter to her, a commanding and sexy walk when she was naked as she was now. She walked a lot taller and bigger than she was, and the voice she used next was that of a bigger woman.

"On your knees."

When Jessa did not obey, there came a gleeful chuckle from more than a few bunks.

"I'm gonna break you, bitch," Kara said with a small, feral grin. "No woman is beautiful until she's broken. A new captive who needs a lot of hard work to get broken in is just about as close as we get to live entertainment. Now. On your knees."

Tears streaming down her face, the older civilian still did not obey. She cringed and covered her nakedness as best she could when Kara stepped forward.

"I'm gonna enjoy this." The Militia woman promised.

In a few minutes, Jessa was wearing another collar, one of ragged wounds gently oozing her blood. The cuts were slight and more damaging psychologically than physically.

"Come on, gorgeous," Kara was saying. She had forced the other woman to her knees by forcefully twisting her collar, turning the thorns into her neck, the pain exacerbated by Jessa's own instinct to move her head. "You give it up and this will go much easier on you. You want food, a warm place to sleep? If you're good you'll get them. If not...well, I think you've gotten a taste of 'if not.'"

The woman was silent.

"You're thinking of escape. There is no escape. There isn't anywhere to go. It'll go easier for you, this way...once we get back to port you'll be free to leave. But until then, you've got to be a good girl. Alright?"

Reluctantly, Jessa got to her knees. Kara grinned, and reached out to stroke her hair, and the other woman allowed it.

"Have you ever been with a woman before?" The sailor asked.

"No."

"You just keep getting sexier. I haven't taken someone's cherry since boot camp." Kara leaned over and tousled her captive's hair with barely restrained rough affection. "Now. I'm going to get on my rack, and you're going to eat my pussy out. When I'm done you'll go around to anyone else who wants whatever they want and give it to them."

"I..."

"If you don't you know what will happen. You want to sleep next to me every night or on the floor?" Kara demanded. "You want to eat off of a plate or the deck? Decide. Now."

Wordlessly, holding back tears, Jessa could only nod. She allowed herself to be lead.

Jules's rack wasn't within eyeshot of Kara's, so he closed his eyes and listened. He heard a creak and then a few whispers. Then only silence for a while until he recognized the sound of Kara's heavy breathing and a few more dangerous sounding creaks as the Navy rack was pushed to its limit.

"That was good, bitch. Real good." Kara said loud enough for the entire bay to hear.

"My name is Captain Jessa."

"It's not, but we don't want you to submissive. Not yet. After all, half the fun is in getting there, isn't it?"

**

A new distraction was born, and then a new part of all of their lives that was amusing while it lasted. Jessa eventually serviced the entire Militia movement whenever they wanted it, whether she wanted it or not.

Sometimes Jules would come into the bay from PT for a shower and find Jessa half struggling under another sailor, fighting and moaning at the same time. When they had a lot of downtime it would be two or three or even four at once. Jules quickly saw every single way a woman could be used. The sailors would fuck her cunt, her ass, her mouth. After a few days, they no longer needed to pin her down by her wrists, except when Jessa very meekly asked them to. That only excited them all the more. Even Jules succumbed, though the entire notion of a ship's whore didn't truly resonate with him. It was just another few minutes to break up the routine.

For her part, Jessa seemed to grow to love her role. After she was done her day's work, she ate well and slept comfortably in Kara's bunk. Once the initial feeding frenzy died down, she could go a few hours without being used. The sailors ordered her to clean the bay or mend their uniforms. According to the more experienced of the outfit, this was now it was and always had been in the Navy.

Until Jessa had a nervous breakdown.

She did not wake up one morning, didn't move when Kara got out of her rack. That in and of itself wasn't unusual: as a civilian, technically, Jessa could sleep as late as she was allowed. It wasn't until her first caller of the day appeared before morning chow that they all noticed something was wrong.

"Hey," A sailor called Iona said to them all. She only wore her uniform blouse and socks, having planned on a little fun before her shift. "She ain't moving."

To show them, Iona lifted up Jessa's pale, thin arm and let it go. To their surprise, it remained. A crowd quickly gathered. Jessa would not move her arms or legs after they were moved for her. They tried to shove her about, slap her, yell in her ear, but the woman would not budge. She only stared, blinked, and made no noise.

"Moyuno!" Kara called out. He was their unit's medic, in that he had taken a handful of extra classes in the subject.

"Unless she is shot or fell and broke a limb, I don't see what I'm going to do," Moyuno told her. "She needs to go to sickbay."

"Negative. The commander would flip shit." Jules said.

"We can't just toss her out of the airlock," Kara said, rolling her eyes. "What do you suggest we do to cover this up? Eat her?"

"Just let her die, who cares?" One of the sailors said.

"She'll starve to death. You want to have a stinking corpse in our bay?" Moyuno demanded.

"Then throw her somewhere, for Ana's sake."

"Where? It's a small ship. They'd know."

They had made the decision, all that was left was to decide how to do it.

As the one having captured her, Kara was forced to do the deed. She was a short and slight woman but she was plenty strong. It only took her a few minutes of strained power walking with Jessa's still body over shoulder to get to sickbay, dump it onto the deck, ring the door alarm, and run back to their bay.

*****

Commander Leon wasn't happy, Jules could tell that at a glance. It was hard to discern any kind of human expression from the CO, with his strange eyes, expressionless mouth and junkie face. But his posture and tone radiated annoyance.

"How did this happen?" He wanted to know.

"Sir, I believe some of the men and women were...careless with her." The ship's doctor said. "She is exhibiting all the signs of a mental break and severe psychological trauma. Brought on by post traumatic stress disorder, I'd think. She's been captured and forced into sexual slavery. That's enough to break anyone."

"I don't chide my sailors for their diversions, but this is excessive. It's only been ten weeks that this woman has been serving us." Leon told the doctor. He lifted the thin, gauzy sheet that covered the still breathing form of Jessa and frowned at the large black letters on her chest, almost a tattoo. The sailors had colored the words MILITIA WHORE deep into her skin with a cosmetic dyer. "Can't say I'm a fan of this, either. Seaman Jules, did you have this woman?"

"I'm not so inclined for women, sir." Jules said carefully. That was the truth, anyway, even if it didn't answer the question. Because of his part in capturing Jessa he had been told to change shifts with another and guard sickbay, to overhear how the commander took the news. And possibly give him someone to blame this on and kill.

"It's a shame, it's inappropriate for the officers to give up their own conquest and it was meant for this one to last the enlisted crew for a long time. Can't blame anyone but yourselves." Leon hadn't covered the woman up yet. Distractedly, like a laboratory technician taking a tissue sample, he pinched Jessa's nipple hard enough to make Jules wince. No reaction.

"If she's still in this condition tomorrow, I want you to dispose of her on the asteroid we're destroying next week. You're assigned to the team, you need some suit time." The commander said in his flat voice.

"Yessir." Jules said.

"She could be stabilized and yet live out her life," The Saber's chief medical officer said. "She wouldn't be very functional but it is possible to..."

"Not on my ship, she's not. Dead weight, doctor. Jules, do as I say."

****

As a matter of course, Militia trained in their suits a few times a month, but it was one thing to put it on to crawl around the cargo bay, and another to don it with the intention of hopping onto an asteroid. Helmets off, Kara, Moyuno, and Jules, were cracking rough jokes in the docking port about their "cargo." The unit had not been punished after a week and so were in good spirits. The engineering crew looked uncomfortable at the notion of leaving a living person to explode on an asteroid. Even though they outranked all three of the Militia sailors, they were not in control. The one who held the weapon was usually in control on a Capital Navy vessel.

The inner airlock cycled open and another pair of boots clinked onto the deck, a heavy footed but graceful step, suited. The engineers faces changed from cringing to blank in an instant.

"I've been cooped up in this ship for too long," Magdalena told them. "I'm coming along for a walk. I have nominal command but Militia and Corps of Engineers leads the way. Let's step off."

There was no more joking. They all donned their helmets. As the atmosphere from the Saber left the port and the minimal atmosphere of the asteroid pipe in, Jules turned on his air supply. As third and political officer, Ensign Magdalena could go where she wishes, so long as her superiors allowed it. There could only be one reason for her being here. The rumors had it that she was investigating whichever enlisted person had pushed the new captive over the edge. Perhaps Magdalena had made her choice.

Jessa was in a suit of sorts herself, a loose fitting, all purpose cargo bag not meant to be worn. It had an air supply for plant samples or living beings being transported, but not much else. The catatonic woman couldn't see or stretch her limbs, not that she needed to. Jules had helped the Saber's doctor stuff her into bag, and the woman had flowed bonelessly into it without a care in the world.

"Help me with this," Kara snapped to Jules. She was technically the senior most Militia sailor present, but she wasn't giving her team a command. Ever since Jessa had been used up, she had been moody and on edge. The appearance of the ship's political officer was only making it worse. Grudgingly, Jules scooped up a half of the bag, feeling the awkward dead weight inside.

"We're setting charges at several different locations so the explosion is timed perfectly," One of the engineers said, looking uncomfortable in the unfamiliar survival suit. "Ensign Magdalena, can I ask where..."

"I'll be joining Seaman Jules's team. Let's move out."

It was not as if Jessa could survive very long out of the cargo bag or move much, but Kara and Jules still carried her a bit away from the Saber anyway, over a rocky hump. The two of them dumped Jessa onto the surface of the asteroid like a discarded sack of grain. After that, the teams split up.

Jules was automatically following the foot steps of Magdalena, the two of them making sure that they only left one set. The engineer weaved and bobbed behind the two of them, scanning for the perfect place to put the explosive.

"I've got the prime location for a series of charges." The engineer reported.

""We're going on patrol, you can take care of the demolition yourself. Step up here, Seaman," Magdalena said to Jules, stopping and turning back to him. "There is no enemy and we're blowing this rock up soon. Let's take in this scenery together."

Warily, he trudged up to her, making a second set of footprints in the metallic dust. It would take a lot more than tiny pieces of sharp metal to pierce a survival suit, and the low gravity and soft terrain underneath added a welcome spring to his step.

When he was next to her, they walked in silence for several long minutes. There was much to see: the asteroid had minimal atmosphere and so the stars glinted brightly overhead. Jules never tired of looking at the stars.

"Isn't it funny how we never got together?" Magdalena suddenly asked on a private channel.

Jules was so surprised by the question that he almost forgot to switch channels himself.

"Funny how?"

"We went through all of boot together, you got your first kill there, I took command of my first unit, and now we've been on the same ship for...five, six months?"

"I am not sure," Jules told her. He didn't know which question of her's he was answering.

"To be honest, when we were in boot, I always had a crush on you," Magdalena admitted. "I was a bit upset when I realized you only went with girls...well, I guess when you had to."

Jules wasn't quite sure what she wanted from him. The constant crunch of metallic dirt underneath, his suit haptics tingling friendly, and his own breathing were the only sounds he heard.

He saw a spot of black ahead and realized they had almost walked around the entire asteroid: they were back at the spot where they had dumped Jessa's bag.

"Charges set. Rendezvous with Empress's Saber. We have ten minutes before detonation. All hands, return home." Came the call from the engineer over the all hands channel.

"Hear that, Jules? We have ten minutes."

"I heard. You were saying?"

"Yes. I wanted you at first. But, knowing what I know now, I am glad I didn't fuck you. I'm glad you refused me." Magdalena said."You killed poor Captain Jessa."

"I didn't," Jules said, feeling the blood drain from his face and the acid pour into his stomach.

"Well, if you didn't kill her, you drove her over the edge. Either way, we both know it doesn't matter whether you actually did it or not." Magdalena turned to him and under the visor she smiled. "All it will take is one word from me and you'll hang."

"By Ana, why are you doing this?" Jules demanded. "You just got done saying we shared a battlefield and that you wanted to fuck me."

"I'm an officer now, Jules, a political officer, and your third in command. But it's not going to stop there," She said, and her voice had changed somehow, become deeper, full of conviction. "One day I am going to be an admiral. You know me too well. You've seen me angry, seen me afraid, and watched me get fucked. You're a liability and a killer. And worst of all, you ignored me."

"I'll fight this," Jules told her. "You won't get away with this."

"Oh, stop posturing, you foot soldier." She told him. "We both know that old junkie is going down. The Saber will my ship in a few months. How is it going to look when I am commander instead of Leon? Will you disrespect me? Talk about me behind my back? Brag about how I used to love you? I think you'll do all those things. My sailors won't fear me. I can't have that. Would you want to be my commander with all we know about one another?"