Wicked
Wanderer
Chapter Two
by Sharon Green
Copyright 2003 by ABCD Webmasters, and Sharon Green
Torand Rego whistled as he headed for the bridge, in such a good mood that even the early hour of the ship's day didn't bother him. He'd had the girl twice more after the first time, the "green glow" giving her no choice but to respond to him. She was even more awkward than he'd expected one of their women to be, almost as if she were completely unused to being with a man, but that was all right. Awkward was better than the nothing he'd been getting… "'Morning Captain," Decker said, glancing up from her board when she heard his steps. "The jump went fine, and now we're almost to the point where we can intercept that special freighter. Taking her cargo on our way home will turn every one of our sister ships rabid with envy." "Rabid with envy is good when it's someone else doing the envying," Tor answered with a grin, then he took a second look at the rapidly changing figures to one side of Decker's screen. "That's not a normal trajectory, Decker. Why are we coming at the freighter … sideways?" "Sideways is a good description of what's happening, Captain," Decker answered, her expression now odd. "Why it's happening, though, is something I can't tell you. We seem to have come out of the jump kind of … lopsided, but even on this trajectory we'll be in striking range in about an hour." Tor was about to tell Decker to stay on course then when Henson began to curse where he sat at his own board. "You'd better come take a look at this, Captain," Henson called, most of his attention on the keys he pressed. "Unless I'm drunk, and it's too early for that, we're heading into an ambush." Tor lost no time striding over to Henson's board, where the computer was answering questions put to it about the observations it had made. "The computer added a mention of 'shadows' of the freighter when I queried for data," Henson said over his shoulder to Tor while he continued to work. "The position of those shadows says the freighter has an escort that's running dark, and the size of the shadows suggests that the escort is composed of Mawlers. Six of them, in a loose ring around the freighter, about fifteen minutes or less away from the bait. If we'd come at them from any other angle…" "We never would have seen the escort," Tor finished when Henson just let his words trail off, staring at Henson's screen and the data it showed. "We could probably best two Mawlers at once, but six… When the government sets a trap, it always has to make absolutely sure. Can we take out the Mawlers one at a time?" "We might be able to get two that way and maybe even three, but that would still leave us outgunned," Henson said, disgust clear in his voice. "Even if we managed to blow the third apart before the others reached us… And if we didn't get through the third's screens fast enough it would be four to one." "When even the best case scenario leaves you hanging by your stones, you play it smart and back off," Tor decided aloud after no more than a moment. "Bringing home the contents of that freighter would have felt good, but I'd rather get home without the freighter's goods than with them but with us in pieces the size of meteorites. Decker, get us out of here." "Aye, Captain," Decker acknowledged with a sigh, hating the decision as much as Tor and Henson but too smart to argue it. "Veering off on a heading that will take us straight home after one more jump." The other members of the on-duty bridge crew were either grumbling or cursing under their breath, but Tor knew it wasn't because they were running away. Everyone had been looking forward to their share of the prize, and now they would have to do without it. Well, that was better than losing everything they already had along with their lives - which would have been the better outcome. If the Hawk had been captured rather than destroyed, they all would have shared in what came afterward whether they wanted to or not. After using the PA system to tell everyone to stand down, there was no longer a reason for Tor to be on the bridge. His crew didn't need him standing over their heads to do their job right, so he went back to his office, ordered the breakfast he'd thought he'd been having after the attack, then sat back in his chair to wait for it to be brought. Wait for the two breakfasts to be brought. Even if there wasn't going to be an early-morning fight, he still had his new cabin girl to take his interest. Tor grinned as he folded his hands behind his head at the thought of what he would find in his cabin. If the girl woke up and stretched lazily then tried to coax him back to bed, he'd let her sit down to breakfast with him before they did go back to bed. But if she tried to scream accusations at him or got wild in any other unacceptable way, he'd happily use the opportunity to have even more fun. First he'd pulled her out of bed by the hair, then tie her wrists together in front of her. She'd certainly be squawking in outrage or disturbance by then, but her noise would increase when he pulled her into the head with him and forced her face down on the deck. Putting one foot on her hair would keep her where he wanted her while he used both hands to ready her punishment, and then he would give her the enema and cap it with the cork. She would certainly be shrieking by then so he would pull her to her feet and demand quiet, possibly with a hard smack to her well-filled bottom. Once she'd stopped the nonsense he would explain her situation, and she would hear what he had to say with those very blue eyes wide and those soft lips trembling as the rest of that nicely rounded body squirmed in extreme discomfort. You'll kneel on the floor near me while I eat my breakfast, he would tell her, his tone letting her know that there would be no argument. After I finish eating you'll let me know - without words - how much you want me to take you back to bed. If you're persuasive enough I'll do it, and if you please me enough I'll let you take out that cork when I'm finished with you. If you're not persuasive enough or you don't please me enough… Well, you're the one who'll find out what a really extensive delay in removing that cork feels like. Think about that while I'm eating. And then he would put her to her knees in his cabin where he could look at her while he ate. She'd find it impossible to stop squirming where she knelt, and she might even find it impossible to keep from making small noises of distress as the almost-hot water worked on her insides. He would take his time with the meal, of course, making her watch him enjoy chewing and swallowing without the help of a food concentrate tablet to dull her own appetite. By the time he was finished eating she would be more than ready to crawl to him and coax his interest, and her eagerness to be free of that cork would improve her performance in a very pleasant way. And after he let her use the head, he would still make her ask nicely before he let her eat her by-then cold breakfast. Tor laughed softly at the picture he'd drawn, now hoping the girl did give him a hard time. He really did need an excuse for treating her that way… Or did he? Wasn't it his right as captain to treat a stowaway in any way he cared to? He'd have to think about that point if she didn't provide the excuse herself - "Come in," Tor called when the knock on his door said the food was probably being delivered. The door opened to prove that his guess was right, and it was Willo who carried in the tray with a big grin. "Two breakfasts, Captain Tor, just like you ordered," Willo said in his raspy voice. "Glad to see you lookin' happier, Captain Tor. Hope you and the lady enjoy the food." "Thank you, Willo," Tor answered with his own grin as he got to his feet. "Just put the tray down, and I'll take it from here." Willo bobbed around a little before putting the tray down, having no idea how … out of place he looked. The man was even bigger than Tor himself and had once been one of Tor's fiercest fighters - until he took a head wound during a fight. They'd gotten him back to the Hawk and he'd survived the wound, but he'd never been the same. Willo was now the permanent cook's helper in the galley and was delighted with the job. The old Willo would have hated doing such menial chores, but the new Willo… Once the big man was gone from Tor's office, Tor picked up the tray and used his elbow to open the hatch into his cabin. He had to use his elbow again to close the hatch on the other side before being able to put the tray down on a shelf, but as soon as he could Tor turned to look at the bed. He'd left the girl asleep, but hearing him come in must surely have wakened her - "The bed's empty," Tor muttered with brows raised, not having considered this possibility. "Where could she have gone that - " He cut off the stupid question, knowing there was only one place the girl could be. Since he'd made sure to take her clothes with him when he left the cabin, she had to be in the head. She'd been so embarrassed about walking around naked in front of him that there was no chance she'd left the cabin that way. The door to the head was open instead of closed the way she'd done it before showering, but that was probably because she hadn't expected him to be back so soon. When he appeared in the doorway, he'd probably get the outraged screaming he was hoping for. Tor's grin was wide when he reached the head, but one step inside banished all thoughts of amusement. The girl wasn't relieving herself and she wasn't in the shower. She lay on the floor next to the lefthand wall, curled up into a ball with the front of her facing the wall. She also seemed to be trembling slightly, but when Tor strode over and bent to put a hand on her shoulder she didn't seem to notice. "Girl, are you all right?" Tor asked, shaking her gently. "Talk to me and tell me what's wrong." He expected to get at least some response, but there was absolutely nothing. She wasn't simply ignoring him, she didn't even know he was there. Confusion whirled Tor about as he hurried back into the cabin proper to use the intercom to call for his medic. Jerman had been a real doctor before she ran afoul of the government's endless list of do's and don't's, and she'd find out what was wrong. Jerman wasted no time reaching his cabin, her dark eyes as serious as ever, her dark hair swirling with her hurry. She'd also brought two of her corpsmen with a litter, but she left them outside the cabin while she strode into the head with Tor following. Jerman went right to where the girl lay and knelt, then touched the girl here and there while she spoke softly. When she got no more of a response than Tor had gotten, she turned her head to glare up at him. "All right, tell me what you did to her," Jerman ordered in a flat voice, her dark stare cold and hard. "If you leave anything out I might not be able to bring her back." "All I did was bed her," Tor answered, more bewildered than he cared to admit. "She was nervous at first, but she ended up responding to me when the Green Glow gave her no choice. She responded every time, and when I left a little while ago she was still sleeping." "Green Glow," Jerman muttered as she got to her feet. "I really despise that stuff, but I've never heard of it causing a bad reaction in any woman. There's got to be another reason for her withdrawal, and this isn't the place to find out what it is. Do you have a blanket or something to wrap her in? Having her carried to sickbay as she is won't help anything at all." Tor had noticed the spare blanket clean and folded on the shelf near where he'd put the tray, so he went and got it and brought it back to Jerman. The girl obviously hadn't known where to put the blanket once it was clean, so she'd left it on the shelf. Now it was being used for her benefit, but she wasn't conscious enough to appreciate the irony. Once Jerman had the girl wrapped in the blanket, she asked Tor to call in the men in the corridor. They came in and gently put the curled up girl on the litter, then they carried the girl out with Jerman walking next to the litter. Tor followed behind the procession to sickbay, but had to wait out in the sitting area. Jerman not only refused to let him in the private examining room, she also threw out her corpsmen once the girl had been put on a bunk. Tor sat down on one of the very uncomfortable chairs in the waiting area, making sure his expression didn't show how disturbed he was. Having fun with a female stowaway was one thing, but causing her to retreat into unconsciousness was a different matter entirely. He wanted to protest again that he hadn't done anything to the girl, nothing that wasn't perfectly normal, nothing like what he'd been daydreaming about, but he wouldn't have been able to speak the words even if there had been someone around to speak them to. He was the only one who'd had access to the girl, so he was responsible even beyond his being responsible for everything that happened on the Hawk. The wait wasn't a short one, and if Tor had had anything of an appetite left he would have gone back to his cabin for his ice-cold breakfast. Instead he just sat and waited, and at long last Jerman came out of the room. She closed the door behind herself, then came to stare down at him where he still sat sprawled in the chair. "I shouldn't ask this question, but I really need to know," Jerman said, her dark eyes refusing to leave his face. "I have to find out if I've been mistaken all this time about the kind of man you are. Didn't you know she was a virgin, or didn't you care?" "She was a what?" Tor nearly yelped as he shot to his feet. "No, you have to be wrong, Jerman. Not only didn't she say a word about being untouched, she wasn't still … untouched. I may not have much experience with virgins, but I do know I would have noticed if I was her first." "You only would have noticed with a girl who hadn't done a lot of heavy physical exercise during her life." This time Jerman responded soothingly with a sigh, touching his arm to urge him back into the chair and then taking a chair of her own. "I can see now that you didn't know, but that's not going to be of much help. I had to drug her to get her out of fetal position and use some numbing salve, and I can only hope she doesn't go back into the retreat once she wakes up. Where did she come from, and what did you intend to do with her once you'd … finished your association with her?" "She was a stowaway in our supply hold," Tor answered, wishing his head would stop spinning. "When I told her she'd be … seeing to my needs, she hardly blinked. She asked where the ship was heading, and when I told her it was the Moradan station and I'd turn her loose there she seemed … pleased. Why didn't she tell me she'd never been with a man before?" "Maybe she was embarrassed to admit that she had no experience with sex," Jerman answered with another sigh. "Or maybe she thought she would still have no choice even if she did say something, so she didn't bother. Did you give her a choice?" Sure, Tor thought, not quite able to say the words out loud. I gave her the choice of having sex with me or being put out an airlock. Covered myself with glory with that one, yes I did. "Look, Tor, why don't you go back to your office and I'll call you when she wakes up," Jerman said once it became obvious that he wasn't going to be answering her last question. "If she doesn't go fetal again I can even have her taken back to your cabin - " "No, I don't want her back in my cabin," Tor said at once as he got to his feet again. "I'll send her clothes and other possessions over and she can stay here until we reach Moradan station, and then you can see her off the ship. Call me only if she doesn't come out of it." And with that Tor left, wondering if he'd ever be able to touch any girl but a professional again… Chayara opened her eyes to strange surroundings, and the … floating kind of mood she was in didn't let her look at those surroundings very critically. The room was very small with nothing but the bunk she lay on and a single chair in it, and nothing seemed familiar. After a moment it came to her that this was more a cabin than a room, which had to mean she was still on a ship. Still on a ship? Oh, yes, the ship was the Hawk… Memory began to return slowly then, and even the floating mood didn't quite keep the sense of self-hatred from Chayara. She'd awakened in the pirate's bed, and when she'd realized just how low and sleazy he'd shown her she was she couldn't bear the memories. She'd left the bed with the intention of trying to scrub away some of the shame in the shower, and that was when she'd discovered how painful walking was. Every step had screamed out how vile she was, how she'd begged for something she'd wanted to refuse the man altogether, and by the time she'd reached the bathroom she couldn't bear the inner pain any longer. Pain had always gotten Chayara mad before, but this pain, both the outer and the inner, had just made her want to hide. She'd never be able to face her family again after what she'd discovered about herself, and it had come to her that if she hid well enough she wouldn't have to face them. "I should have remembered that hiding doesn't solve anything," Chayara murmured, staring up at the metal above the bunk she lay on. "When you hide there's always the chance that someone will find you, so why waste the time? Once I reach Uncle Leron and tell him what's happened at home, I can go to a place no one will ever be able to find me. Yes, that's a much better idea." Chayara fell back into a doze then, and the disturbance she'd felt was gone. The dreams she had were pleasant ones, and when she woke up feeling much more alert she was able to look at the woman seated in the chair knowing none of her sense of shame was showing. The woman was small and dark with sharp, penetrating eyes, and the clothes she wore under the white coat said she was part of the Hawk's crew. "How are you feeling?" the woman asked as soon as she saw that Chayara was fully awake. "You look better than you did." "I'm fine," Chayara answered, making sure that the sheet over her didn't slip down when she moved to sitting. "Are those my things on the shelf behind you? Odd that I didn't notice them before." "I only brought them in a little while ago," the woman responded, still studying Chayara intently. "Look, about what happened to you - " "I'd really rather not talk about that," Chayara said at once, feeling a flash of that inner pain. Remembering what she'd done was bad enough; Chayara knew that if she had to discuss her shame with another woman who obviously didn't have the same problem… It was hard to know whether ridicule or pity would hurt more… "All right, then we won't talk about it now," the woman agreed, a hint of disappointment behind the concession. "When you discover that you do want to talk, just let me know. Right now I'd like you to eat something that isn't concentrate. Your body needs to start getting back to normal." Chayara shrugged to show that she wasn't going to argue, but only to forestall the objections the woman would have come up with if Chayara had said she wasn't hungry. Whatever meal was brought to her would mostly be wasted, but there was no need to say that out loud. "Wait," Chayara said, stopping the woman who had left the chair and was already at the door. "I was told that we were going to Moradan station. Can you tell me how long it will be before we get there?" "Another day and a half," the woman answered, an odd expression flitting across her face. "You'll be staying here during that time, and then you can leave the ship." "Good," Chayara said, relieved that the time wouldn't be longer. It had come to her that she'd be able to call Uncle Leron from the station no matter where he was on the planet, and then her chore would be done. After that she would be free to do what she had to, and she was really looking forward to the time. The woman came back fairly quickly with the food she wanted Chayara to eat, but Chayara was already dressed. She'd gotten into her clothes as soon as the woman was gone, wanting to make sure that her bodily reactions didn't betray her if a man happened to show up. The dark woman put the tray down on Chayara's bunk and showed her where the tiny bathroom was before leaving, but that was the last pleasant exchange they had. Each time the woman found that Chayara had barely touched the food she'd been given, she tried to talk Chayara into eating "just a little more." Then she tried to tell Chayara that if they "talked some," Chayara would want to eat more. Going to the small bathroom and staying in there until the woman left ended the attempts on Chayara's terms, but if the trip had been any longer… Chayara was already showered and wearing clean clothes with the rest of her possessions packed when the woman came to escort her off the ship. This time the woman didn't bother to check the tray she'd brought a short time earlier, but that didn't mean the woman had nothing to say. "Whether or not you want to admit it, you're going to need help getting over what you went through," the woman said softly as they walked through the ship. "We'll be docked here at the station for a while, so if you send word to me I'll join you on the station and we can talk. Just ask for Jerman." "Sure," Chayara said, refraining from demanding how someone was supposed to "get over" finding out that they were a slut. She'd always been taught that you can't fight the nature you were born with, and for her that meant she'd have to start living and acting like a slut in front of everyone. Luckily, though, that was a fate she would be spared. "I do need to ask a different question, though, because curiosity is driving me crazy," the woman Jerman went on in a louder voice. "How did you stand having nothing to do all that time you stowed away on freighters? I know you've been traveling for a while, so the time can't have been short. There's a limit to how much sleeping any one person can do, and you don't strike me as someone who can just sit around staring into space for so long." "Before I left home I had a couple of hundred books folded into my mind," Chayara answered after only a brief hesitation, seeing no reason not to tell the truth. "Any time I get bored I just 'open' one of the books and read, and then I'm not bored any longer. The list is mostly texts, but there's also some fiction thrown in." "You were able to afford that? How?" the woman asked, her startled expression showing she knew how expensive it was to have books folded into your mind, but Chayara was saved the trouble of having to put her off or lie. They'd reached the doubly opened airlock with its ramp that gave access to the station, so Chayara got a better grip on her pack. "I know I haven't thanked you until now for your help, but that wasn't because I'm not grateful," she said as she edged her way into the airlock. "I do appreciate what you did for me, but I really need to get onto the station now. If I find I need to talk I'll definitely get in touch." Adding that last about talking did a fair job of keeping the dark woman silent while Chayara made her way down the ramp. There were no ramp guards, not even sloppy ones, which meant Chayara could hurry away from the ship in the direction of the customs areas. There seemed to be a lot of people in the station docking area, so many that the vast area actually seemed almost crowded. Chayara passed any number of clusters of men talking, and she heard the same name being mentioned again and again. "… Falk wait much longer," one man was insisting to the others in his group. "He said we're moving soon no matter what." "Bornal Falk won't let anything push him into moving too soon," another man countered. "He may be coming up to the station, but that doesn't mean…" Chayara made no effort to stop and listen, not when it was Bornal Falk they were talking about. Falk was the leader of all the pirates, the only man who had a bigger price on his head than Torand Rego, and listening to discussions concerning the man probably would not be very healthy. Especially since she was a stranger on the station. Better to just go and do what she'd come here for, and trust to her luck that she would not get embroiled in anything that would delay - Catching sight of a group of men out of the corner of her eye who seemed to be heading in the same direction made Chayara slow just a little to keep out of their way. She also turned her head to get a good look at the group to make sure they were heading for the customs offices, and what was supposed to be a glance became a stare. Three men were talking to a fourth all at the same time, but the man being talked to seemed to have his attention on other things. He looked in the direction he was walking rather than at any of the men with him, and for that reason saw Chayara just as she saw him. The man's eyes widened in the same way that Chayara's did, and then the man laughed aloud. "Of course that was what I was waiting for!" he said in the midst of the laughter, lengthening his stride. "You are Chayara rather than your twin Eilinna, aren't you?" "Yes, Uncle Leron, I'm Chayara," she answered, relief letting her smile at the man she'd thought was somewhere on the planet. Then she remembered why she'd come and the smile faded again. "I'm afraid I've come to ask for the help you promised before you left home. The new planetary governor has arrested my father." "They've arrested Halin?" her uncle said incredulously with all traces of amusement gone. "I can't imagine my brother ever breaking any kind of law, let alone one that would get him arrested." "He didn't break any law, he just refused to cooperate with the governor's order," Chayara replied, then she lowered her voice. "It seems the governor resents how successful our family is, so she set a large number of people to the job of investigating us. One of her people found that our genetic maps don't quite match that of the average citizen, so she's decided that our genetic makeup lets us take unfair advantage of everyone else. With that in mind she's ruled that my brothers and sister and I have to marry men and women of her choice, which she's sure will negate our 'unfair' advantage." "And since you and your siblings are legally required to marry whomever your father chooses as your spouse, she tried to get your father to approve her choices." Chayara could see the anger in her uncle's eyes as well as hear it in his voice. "Her choices have to be complete zeroes, so your father refused to approve them. How long has he been under arrest?" "More than two weeks now," Chayara said, the reminder bringing her a good deal of disturbance. "They have to be 'reeducating' him, and I don't know how long he can hold out against that kind of treatment." "Don't worry, child, they aren't hurting him," Uncle Leron said, putting a big hand to her shoulder. "Our marvelous and superior government doesn't believe in torture, at least not in the way their predecessors did. They'll plague him with constant propaganda, but if I know my brother he has enough folded books in his mind to let him ignore their nonsense until we can free him. Which I mean to do as soon as I take care of one other chore first. I'll be back with you in a minute." Chayara watched her uncle turn and go back to the men he'd been walking with, men who had been frowning at the way he'd ignored them. Now, after her uncle spoke only a few soft words, the three men were suddenly all smiles. Chayara had no idea how her uncle would free his twin brother, but she'd never gone wrong trusting her uncle to do just as he said he would. And that meant Chayara had completed the task she'd set out to do… Looking around brought Chayara something of a surprise. Just to the right of the customs offices was the beginning of a long line of storage areas. Sometimes freighters couldn't wait until there was a transfer shuttle available to take the goods they'd brought down to the planet. If that happened they put the goods into a storage area until the consignee of the freight arranged for the goods to be transported down to the world. Delivering the goods into a storage area was perfectly acceptable to the consignees because the storage areas were protected with strong, locked doors and disintegration fields. And now Chayara could see that the areas closest to the customs offices glowed red with the warning of active fields… No one noticed when Chayara began to stroll toward the storage areas, not even her uncle. Uncle Leron seemed to be giving the other men orders now, and their attention was only for him. Other men and women in the crowds were drifting toward the small group composed of her uncle and the three men, and only an occasional glance came Chayara's way. Her luck was protecting her the way it usually did, which meant no one stopped her when she pushed into the light exclusion field set up five feet from the storage areas. The exclusion field was there to make sure no one accidentally blundered into the disintegration fields, but it didn't keep out anyone who deliberately pushed through. Chayara looked at the angry red of the deadly field protecting the storage area, smiled, then walked right into the redness. A flash of terrible pain came and then nothing-
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