NASTRAGULL: Pirates (39 page)

"Good, then we don't have to worry about any pirate hunters competing with us."

"Doubt you'd have to worry about that anyway," said Behl, handing Alec a computer pad. "Moving right along, all the uniforms and weapons have been stored. We've also attached a few larger cannons and missile turrets to the hardpoint installations on the ship. The pirates we bought turned out to be very handy and skillful when it comes to concealing them, but I think we should attach the larger guns in deep space, once we're well away from here. The gunrunner I dealt with told me that the weapon systems, the mines, and the missiles we want are very illegal. Tomorrow we'll begin installing the, um, 'special room' that you asked for..." Behl shook his head and continued, "He says he'll meet us wherever we want."

Alec and Behl spent the next ten minutes going over their plans before Behl burst out, "Oh, hell, I forgot. You have over thirty messages from that little pants-pissing guy."

"From who?"

"That little...you know, our host from the casino."

"You mean Mr. Tota."

"Yeah, I guess that was his name. Tota the little pants-pissing guy, from Gull only knows where."

"I'll look into it later," Alec assured him.

"One more thing. You also have several messages from some tailor who claims your clothes and boots are ready and you should come pick them up. While you're at it, you might consider hiring a secretary."

Alec looked up at Behl with a surprised expression and said brightly, "Why, when I have you?"

Behl left, muttering something about "a spoiled smartass brat."

Chapter 24

At that very moment—and much to her surprise, actually—Alexa was being pampered by half a dozen adorable male slaves of various species. They washed her all over with soft sponges, and massaged her shoulders and legs. She lay in a round marble pool filled with clean gel-water, enjoying herself thoroughly. One slave was feeding her grapes and another exotic fruit, while another slave was combing out her long, dark brown hair. Earlier, he had poured on something foul-smelling that loosened her dreadlocks into individual strands. A small waterfall poured into the far end of the rather large pool, and the sound of the falling water intermingled delightfully with the soothing musical strains two other male slaves coaxed from a pair of odd electronic instruments.

The harmony in the room was interrupted when Alexa kicked one of the servants in the face. The rest of the servants immediately stopped what they were doing. Alexa hissed threateningly, "Don't touch my feet."

The servants started to laugh, except for one; and some of them begin to tease and caress her softly. Alexa had never judged a book by its cover, but she knew all too well that her servants had no interest in women. In her disappointment, she let a sigh of frustration. She had noticed that all of them were exceptionally well-endowed; their thin tunics revealed more than enough for her to come to that conclusion. She wouldn't having mind one of them right now.
Or two. Or hell, why not three?
she thought lustfully, and sighed again. Her servants must have read her mind, because they all started teasing her with their caresses.

"My mistress likes her permanent guests to be happy. It does you good," said a gravelly voice from behind her.

"Oh. You." Alexa turned and eyed the short, stocky non-oman woman observing the scene. "What do you want, Sebilla?"

"Just making sure you are relaxed, my dear, and that you get your rest and eat enough. You do need some more meat on your bones; you should really start thinking more about our mistress's dinner guests, and stop being so selfish."

"Whatever." Fuming, Alexa rose from the pool, followed by her boytoys, who begged her to return and play with them. A slave wrapped a towel around her, and then escorted her to a stone table. Alexa lay down on her stomach, and another slave began massaging warm oil into her body. She was rather bored lied on her stomach, but when the masseur started to work her backside, she let out a moan of pleasure. Sebilla looked at Alexa with a motherly expression that an objective observer might have thought was full of nothing but love. Alexa knew better.

"My mistress wants you to be strong and fresh for your special event," Sebilla said sweetly. "Remember, it is a signal honor that you are about to receive."

"An honor, you say. Well, perhaps you would like to change places with me?"

"Oh my dear, now you're just being funny. Old Sebilla would be too stringy and gristly for the mistress's tastes. Truly, it's nothing to worry about. I have prepared hundreds of art products for my mistress. You won't die, dear, or so I fervently hope. It's hard to be sure sometimes."

Alexa clamped down on her emotions and said steadily, as if they were having a regular conversation, "So when will my big event take place?"

"Oh, dear, I must not say. The mistress doesn't want you to be concern about that; after all, you will be part of something not many people have ever been a part of. You should be proud and happy. This is an extraordinary honor, and there will be many famous and important people present on your gala night."

Alexa's skin turned ice cold, and the goose pumps made the masseur stop and look at Sebilla with disappointed eyes. "See what you did? Now we must start all over," complained the masseur. "We just had her relaxed, and now you have gotten her worried again." He made a gesture with his hand at Alexa's back. Sebilla looked at the tiny goose bumps, upset, and hurried away.

Alexa smiled to herself. It had been over a week since she realized that she could postpone her demise—or at least she thought she could—by getting goose pumps or bruises. On several occasions, she had deliberately bruised herself extensively by falling, or had cut herself. Everything had to be naturally healed; the Black Lady (or Shadow Bitch, as Alexa liked to call her) had been very clear on this matter.

All the slaves and servants knew what their mistress demanded, and they took all precautions while tending Alexa. They never left her by herself now, as they had become convinced that Alexa was causing the damage to herself. Whenever she had been caught, she had been told that she had no right to damage someone else's property, and that she should be grateful for not being punished by the whip, or the stick under her feet. So instead of punishing Alexa whenever she did something to herself, a little girl slave was severely whipped—and the last time, the little girl had died. Alexa had been bothered by that at first, but eventually her survival instinct took over. She'd done worse as a pirate, after all. She had decided to keep up with her rebellious behavior. She'd do anything to stay alive for as long as possible. 

She had stopped being afraid by now, though, and decided to face her demise with dignity when it came—though she was determined to escape from this hell as soon as she could. She knew that she was aboard a very large spaceship and it was still docked to a very large space station—which one she didn't know—but she doubted that they would begin to feast on her while docked. It didn't matter, though, because she was going to survive and find the love of her life, her Silver Guard knight, no matter what happened—and no matter how long it might take her. She was inspired to survive, and ready to do whatever it took to get away...or if necessary, to kill herself. Perhaps she could find Alec in the next life.

The Black Lady—Zoris Af Sun was her real name—had taken to observing the beautiful little female Oman from hidden places. Even she was amazed by the little one's
joie de vivre
and crystalline laughter. As a rule, Zoris avoided coming face-to-face with her art projects until she was ready to present them to her guests. She wanted them to be as comfortable as possible, and her presence wasn't conducive to that. From time to time, she cursed herself for having let this one see her in the first place. She was very surprised by how fast the little vixen had recovered after their first encounter. She knew this would be one of her very best art pieces. Too bad it didn't have a lover; a pair in love was always the best material to work with. It completed her work, somehow.

For hundreds of years, she had developed the techniques of her unique style of art to near-perfection. Only she herself, the infamous Black Lady, knew the truth about herself; and every time she was reminded of her once-splendid past, she wept. She might hide in her bedroom and cry for days, sometime weeks. She could never understand why life had been so cruel to her.

Once she had been the foremost physician in her field; but like an animal, her competitors had hunted her. They had stolen her invention, Permafreeze, which allowed individuals to be placed in suspended animation for long-term space travel. Instead of the normal three or six months in a cooler, she could freeze down a person for centuries, without causing significant brain or tissue damage. Her colleges had stolen her invention, damn them, and sold it to Florencia.

Her many different names came from an old fairy tale, centuries old, similar to the tale of the ancient bogeyman. She had used people's fears and superstitions and taken the names as her own. Only a very few people knew the truth about her and what she was about. They were all high ranking politicians, officers, pirate clan leaders and other extremely wealthy individuals. Indeed, most people knew her as a simple if wealthy art dealer; they had no idea about her second identity. She was considered an eccentric collector and trader of antique art from all the known inhabited worlds in the universe.

Zoris wiped away tears as she walked into her private quarters. She hated traveling in space, and couldn't wait until she was home in her own palace, where she could begin working on her next art piece and have her friends over for dinner.

"Inform the captain that I will be resting," Zoris told a servant as she left her observation room. "I don't want to be interrupted." The servant bowed his head submissively and hurried away. She walked along the corridor, drumming the sharp nails of her fingers on the bulkhead as she went, whistling a soft tune of her own composition.

***

Admiral Jonas Nass gazed with pride at the glorious banner of the Florencian Federation hanging from the ceiling of the command bridge, then turned back to the viewport and watched as his capital ships eased to a halt. The Ninth Galactic from Handover was perhaps the most significant indicator of Florencia's military might, and as always he found it a most impressive, stirring sight as the large battle cruisers formed up into a defensive position. He had just over two hundred and fifty capital class cruisers, supported by thousands of destroyers, frigates, and supply ships. 

His fleet faced a force of twenty-five Nastasturus capital cruisers, some ten thousand klicks away. Nass was unworried; his forces outnumbered the Nasties by more than ten to one. Of course, he rather doubted that there would be any fighting; after all, both fleets were in the neutral zone between the two empires. But one never knew what might happen.

When Nass had received word of the Nasties' presence in the sector, he had reported it to his superiors; and within the hour, the president of his Federation, from his office on Handover, had immediately ordered one Galactic Fleet to investigate why Nastasturus would send one of its own fleets to the region. His orders were to observe and avoid contact.

"Admiral Nass!"

The admiral turned to face a younger commander.

"A corvette-class ship from New Frontier 16 has hailed us, and its Captain invites you to meet the station's Key Administrators and to attend one of their formal balls this evening. How should I respond, sir?"

"Tell him I will be there."

"Aye aye, sir, but he insists that you come with him now. They don't want to alarm the civilians aboard the station by letting us use our own ships."

"He insists, does he?" The crafty old admiral knew that this was a custom, and not a trap; and anyway, only a complete idiot would try to kidnap one of Florencia's Elite citizens. "Inform their Captain I'll be docking my shuttle in his bay within an hour, and get me my personal shuttle pilot."

"Aye aye, sir." The commander hurried away to make all the arrangements.

***

Mr. Tota wrapped his arms around Alec's waist, his expression overjoyed, and Alec was surprised by the little elephantoid's strength. Tota was almost crying, and Alec had to push him away gently but firmly. He well remembered the bladder problem this little fellow had whenever he got excited.

"My, my, look at you, young master!" Tota cried. "We have been very concerned since you left almost two weeks ago without checking out!"

"If you're worried about my hotel bill, let me assure you..."

Tota made a dismissive gesture with one stubby arm. "No, no! You have paid me more than I earn in a month. No, it's something else, my dear man."

Alec looked at him speculatively. "Well, that's interesting, Mr. Tota. I've been planning to see you and ask for some help and advice."

"You have?" Tota's face lit up, and his large ears stopped flapping. "About what?" He looked like some odd little dog eager to makes its master happy.

"Well, sir, why don't you start first? Why did you want to see me?" said Alec, while sitting down on a large couch and making himself comfortable. He had a beautiful view of New Frontier 16 from where he sat in Tota's crystal-walled office.