The Anya
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2022 by Agni Sutra

She braced a foot up against a coolant pipe and tried not to think about the infinite darkness that lay a foot away from the sole of her light ship shoe. Vibrations from the drive cone travelled into her body, through the contact between the internal plating and her back and buttocks.

The lights went out. They had fired.

This was the worst part. The not knowing if death was but a mere moment away. She clenched her fists and didn’t bother holding back the sob. The lights flickered back on, the distant hum of pumps and machinery kicking back into life as their power was restored. They had been stalking the transport for days, stealthed and slowly manoeuvring into position behind it’s drive cone where it was blind.

There had followed hours of tedium as they quietly drew close enough for the laser to work. Missiles and solid ballistic munitions couldn’t be used for fear of causing catastrophic decompression and destroying the target. The only viable option was to sneak up behind and fire the laser straight up the drive cone. As solid matter would have been disintegrated by the reactor exhaust, they used a laser. The lasers beam wouldn’t be affected by the drive plume and on contact with the shielding of the exhausts internals and core, the myriad electronics held within would burn out causing the reactor to shut down. By the time the target rebooted, they would be upon them, anchored and ready for breaching. Just another ship joining the long list of ships plundered.

It was how her parents ship had been taken. Stripped of everything of value and then left to drift aimlessly in the void, along with the corpses of her parents and older brother, now forever alone in the darkness.

Just another small ship lost to the dangers of interstellar travel. The risks so varied that she doubted that their loss had made any more impact than a mark on a tally sheet somewhere. Given the vastness of known space and the traffic within, no one would have even bothered to come looking to see what had happened to the small family run freighter. Had they been famous or carrying precious cargo, eyebrows might have been raised and someone with too much money and time to burn, might have come looking. They hadn’t been, so she doubted anyone had cared enough to bother finding out why they never made their docking slot.

There was a series of faint ‘thuds’ as the anchors were fired. The two craft would be drawing together now, a spider pulling in its prey. Another family, or small enterprise, destroyed.

Just another revolution of the cog of life. The destructive machine that was humanity.

The crawl space shook as the two ships collided, the external hatch of their prey forcibly blown open. There was a faint tingle in her ears as her eardrums reacted to the slight change in atmosphere pressure as the umbilical latched on like a remora eel and the air lock cycled.

She wiped the moisture from her eyes, rubbed the sleeve of her frayed and tattered ship suit across her nose, and crawled out of her safe space. Not that it was hers, or even remotely safe. But it was a nice fantasy and apart from the clothes she currently wore, it was all she had, was all she was allowed to have.

The ship wide speaker system crackled into life “Ship secure, get to it cunts.” Other girls joined her as she drew closer to the lock and its umbilical.

Malnourished hands and arms pulled her through the corridors. The other girls just a quiet and sullen as she was. No words were spoken as they headed towards the cargo hold. If it was empty or contained small crates, they could move it through the corridor. If it was bulky, or too big for the corridors, then they would have to move the cargo via space. The corridors echoed to the distant sounds of screaming.

There was always screaming.

That had been her once. And many, many times after. Though she no longer screamed now. Didn’t do anything. Just let it happen. Fighting just prolonged the inevitable, made them come back for more.

The girls moved on, gliding through the corridors, none of them paid the screaming any heed, they had all been there. Skeletal wraiths of despair. If she was lucky, there might be food packs, and she could squirrel one or two away, maybe even sneak a chance to eat a couple when she was in the hold. Her stomach rumbled at the thought. So wrapped up in her food consuming fantasy was she, that she didn’t see the blow that ripped her fourteen year old fingers from the grab handles and sent her cashing into the bulkhead wall.

“What the fuck are you doing in here cunt? Get outside and connect the pipes.”

And just like that, all thought and chances of food were gone.

The other girls moved over what was in the hold and the personal possessions of the freighters crew as she methodically suited herself. There was no room for error in space. No second chances. The air lock cycled and the suit billowed out slightly as the air inside sought to escape into the vacuum. Walking into position, she bent her knees, connecting one end of her suits tag line onto the hull and launched herself into space. Years of experience ensured that her leap was true and she anchored the other end of the tag line to the freighters hull.

Clipping the hoop of her belt onto the tagline, another bend of her knees sent her back across.

Opening a hatch she pulled out the fuel hose and dragged it along the line to the connection on the freighters hull. She opened the manual valve and activated the suits short range radio. “Fuel connected.” There was no reply, no acknowledgement. Not that she had been expecting one, but if she hadn’t radioed it in, she would have paid for it. Another bend of the knees and another weightless soar through space. Heading back to the airlock, she cycled through, swapping out her almost empty air-cylinder for a fresh one, checking the pressure was correct for a full tank. Back at the tag line, she opened another hatch and set to pulling out the water pipe and hauling it across the gap. Connection secure, she opened its manual value. “Water connected.” She radioed into the darkness. This time, she merited a reply.

“Transferring.” Crying could be heard in the background of the reply, begging to be left alone. She sighed with relief, she could head back.

Stripping out of the survival suit, she hung it back up, securing it and plugging the second tank into one of the charging ports before she made her way over to the freighter. Depending on the levels, it could take hours for the pirate craft’s tanks to fully replenish. The hold was almost empty when she arrived. Not a good sign. The freighter must have been almost empty of cargo. Low yield meant anger from their captors, and that could go in any direction. All of them bad.

She could see the fear in the other girls eyes. One of their captors appeared, ship suit mostly still unbuckled from his ‘fun’. He threw two meal packets at her. “Cabins.” He barked at them. With trembling fingers, she quickly opened both packets and consumed the contents before one of the other girls took them off her.

Methodically, they stripped the cabins of everything that could be stripped, loading the haul into cargo nets. One of the few advantages of zero-g meant that large heavy loads could be moved easily along the corridors. Their captors would sort through it later, spacing anything of no or little value. The same was done to the freighters fittings. Easily removed fittings were removed for spare parts. Circuit boards from the engine management carefully removed, though the girls left everything to do with the control of the fusion bottle well alone.

They weren’t allowed anywhere near the bridge, lest one of them tried to send out a call for help. Though they all knew that such an attempt would result in the immediate spacing of all of them, regardless as to whether or not they were even complicit in the attempt.

Anya, a girl who had been taken a month after her, approached. “We’re to disconnect.”

It always seemed to be her. When it came to connect and disconnect, she was always chosen, but then it was mostly her fault, as she had been trying to make herself more useful, rather than just a sex toy like the other girls. She vastly preferred skinning knuckles replacing a pipe in a tight awkward space than being raped. Especially since the men only seemed to get off when the girl they were thrusting into, was crying. In the smaller personal air lock, they checked each other over and connected air tanks. With the pair of them on the task, she wouldn’t need to come back to replace her air tank.

Anya started to close the valves on the pirate vessel as she pulled her way along the wire. Closing the valves on the plundered freighter, she disconnected the hoses and tag line, pulling herself along even as Anya pulled the line from the other end. When her boots were clamped back on the hull, Anya started feeding the water pipe back in as she fed in the fuel.

The ship vibrated beneath them as the drive engaged. The walk back to the airlock was one of careful panic. They both knew their captors wouldn’t think twice about jumping before they were even inside, so it was with great relief when the air lock door shut behind them. With a bit of luck, the crew would have satiated any lust on the other girls whilst they were outside. Her hopes were dashed when the inner door opened and they were greeted by one of the crew.

“Cargo hold. Now, Don’t waste time changing.”

The two girls exchanged a worried look as they removed their air tanks and put them onto charge. Helmets in hands, they followed the crew member to the main cargo hold and she felt her stomach sink.

All the male crew, bar the one sat in the pilot’s seat in the bridge, were there, along with all the girls and three new faces. Two girls and a boy, all three naked. That was unusual, they never took male captives. All three new additions were bruised, cut, beaten. The two girls had blood between their thighs and were quietly sobbing. She had been in their place, once. The boy, judging by his hunched stance and refusal to look up, hadn’t been spared the sexual abuse experienced by the two girls.

“Glad you two cunt’s could make it. Get in.” The raider nodded his head towards the open freight airlock chamber.

She felt urine run down her leg inside her suit, but she still numbly stepped forward, Anya following her. She took a suit tank off the wall and was hopeful when no-one told her not to. Maybe she had read the situation wrong. Body working mostly on autopilot she connected the tank. Anya, who had followed her lead, doing so as well.

“We have a tradition on this ship.” He continued “When we take on new crew members, we say goodbye to the least pleasing...”

Her heart dropped to the deck as Anya let out a terrified sob next to her. The ship shuddered as they dropped out of the warp jump.

“Oh! Wait a minute! There is only the pair of you. Silly me.” He turned to the three new bodies, two of which stared back at him in uncomprehending fear “One. Two.” He slowly counted in exaggerated slowness, pointing at the new boy, then one of the new girls. “Three ... Oh, three! We are one short.” He turned to the assembled girls, who desperately tried not to meet his gaze or draw his attention. “Hmm...” He lifted a hand “Eeny meenie miny mo, who is shit at sucking dick...” He smiled widely at the girls, enjoying their terror immensely. “Natalie!”

“NO!!!” Natalie screamed “Not me!”

“Yes, you.” He replied happily as Natalie desperately shook her head. “Out you come, chop, chop!”

Natalie screamed as one of the crew members dragged her forward “Please no! I’ll suck your cock! I’ll suck it right now! You can have me, any hole, any position, right now! PLEASE NOT ME!!!”

“Ahh, little Natalie, such passion! Such life! But we’ve all had you, in every hole, many times, and if only you had shown such willingness then, as you show now, then you wouldn’t be in this little predicament. But, alas, for you, we all voted and you were found to be ... lacking.”

“Please! Give me another chance! I’ll be better!”

“Why don’t we ask the other girls, shall we?” He turned from Natalie to the remaining girls “Anyone wish to take Nat’s place?” The other girls stayed silent. “Oh dear Nat, doesn’t look like anyone wants to trade places with you. In you go, there’s a good cunt. Actually,” He laughed. “You’re not that good, hence why you were chosen”

“No! I beg you! Please!”

“Do you really wish to please me Nat?”

“Yes, Yes, yes...” Natalie begged, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

“Then you can do so, BY GETTING IN THAT FUCKING AIR LOCK!”

Natalie was partly pushed, mostly thrown, into the airlock, collapsing in a heap on the floor.

“Don’t bother with your mag boots girls.” He said to the two space suited girls. “You’re not staying. Seriously. You are not staying.” The door slid shut just as Natalie reached it, banging her fists futilely against the metal and reinforced plexiglass.

Watching Natalie bloody her fists against the door, she put on her helmet, part of her conscious mind wondering if it was her sub-conscious desire to live, even if it was just for a bit longer. Or to cut out Nat’s screams, which were deafening. A hand found hers and she turned to look at Anya, who had also donned her helmet. The two girls squeezed their hands tight together as he smiled and waved goodbye at the window.

There was a brief tug at the back of their suits and then they were sucked out of the ship, the screaming instantly stopping. She couldn’t believe they had done this to her. But then, she could. She had watched this murder countless times from the other side, always believing that it wouldn’t happen to her. After all, you didn’t have to be fast to outrun a monster, you just had to ensure that you weren’t the last. Somehow, she had become the last.

She watched the ship depart, her home of the last few years quietly disappearing out of sight. Natalie drifted along side, eyes and mouth open. Skin white, dead, all the moisture of her body frozen, including her eyes. They had ejected them on the peak of a hard turn, basically sling-shotting them out of the airlock.

She looked around as a large shadow swept past. An asteroid field. A dense one. A statement of fact, that they wouldn’t be coming back for them. That they wouldn’t risk the ship, or their lives, for the two girls. The rocks continued to glide past. It was hard to comprehend that it was her that was moving, not the asteroids.

Natalie was slowly separating from them as her mind refused to dwell on her situation, trying to work out which would kill her first. The cold, the inevitable lack of oxygen, or a collision with an asteroid. Anya and herself must be travelling at five thousand or so miles an hour. At that speed, colliding with any of the rocks gliding past was just going to result in her becoming a thin carbon smear.

Arms enfolded her and she hugged Anya back. Their face plates touched and they stared into each others eyes. Neither was crying. They had passed sheer terror and now there was only fatalistic resignation. The hug, obstructed as it is by the suits, was comforting, a strange solace to the fact that in the vast emptiness of space, they would be together till the end.

Anya squeezed her tightly. She hadn’t been attached to many of the girls. Anya had been one of the few, and even then, they had only sought intimate companionship twice of their own desire. All the girls had slept with each other many times under the direction of their male captors. They had liked to watch the girls pleasure –or punish- each other under their direction, before they moved in to finish off with their hard cocks or hard punches, depending on how their mood, or their dark desire took them.

They shot past a rock scarily close. So close that they could have almost reached out and touched it, then it was gone. She winced. That had almost been it for them. Yet, she couldn’t work out if that had been a good, or a bad thing. She looked around. Of Nat’s corpse there was no sign. She had either drifted beyond sight or had collided with one of the asteroid belt’s many solid denizens.

This was bad. This not knowing. Did she want to see death coming, or would she rather close her eyes and meet oblivion in darkness. She closed her eyes. Then opened them a few seconds later. The darkness was, somehow, worse. She was starting to get cold now, and there couldn’t be that much oxygen left in the tank. She refused to look at the gauge. Looking wouldn’t’ help, nor make any difference to the inevitable. She looked back at Anya.

How come she had never really noticed how beautiful Anya was. She supposed they all were, as the less than beautiful were either murdered during sex within a day or two of being captured, or simply spaced when the adrenaline of the boarding action had worn off and they saw the quality of the goods with calmer minds.

Anya smiled, a fatalistic, forlorn smile as her lips moved in silence ’I’m sorry...

Her mind was still matching Anya’s lip movements to words, as one of Anya’s hands left the embrace. Her mouth opened to say words she still hadn’t formulated in return, when the inside of Anya’s helmet misted white and her grasp slackened.

And that was it, she was alone.

Her hand moved up to her own helmet release, but she couldn’t do it. She tried, she really did. But she just couldn’t do it. She cried as she turned Anya around and removed her
air tank. Anya’s released helmet slowly parted from the suit and drifted off as the air tank was removed. She wondered why she even bothered. It just meant that collision and hypothermia had moved to the top of things most likely to kill her. Anya slowly drifted away. Even in death, she was still beautiful.

“Your body is forever yours now Anya, and yours only. You will never have to suffer the unwanted attention of men ever again.” She sighed, a strange peace coming over her. Looking away from Anya’s corpse, she saw an asteroid approaching. There was no way she was going to avoid it. “So this is it then? Well, fuck.” A terrified laugh escaped her lips.

And yet, what was that on the surface ... It looked like a...

Ship.


As she drifted closer, there was no mistaking the outline. The craft had such a deep layer of dust that it almost blended into the surrounding rock. The speed she was currently traveling at would result in death unless she could slow herself down. Wrapping herself around Anya’s air tank, she pointed the tank connector in the direction of her travel and let out a small amount of the remaining air. The air turned to ice crystals, which glittered as she shot past them. The air in her suit was warm and her breathing was becoming laboured. A sure sign that she was about to run out of oxygen. Just a bit further, come on, just a bit more ... She turned the nozzle to the side, letting out another brief spurt from the valve to change her direction and to slow her down further.

As she drew closer, the ship grew larger, it’s size becoming more apparent, as was its condition. Going by the thick coating of dust, the ship must have lain there for centuries, at least, and there was no indication as to how flight worthy it was. One thing at a time.

Her speed was still too fast, but the pressure in Anya’s tank was almost depleted. Her lungs heaved and fought for air as she crashed into the side of the hull. She rolled as best as she could, clinging on to the air tank as tightly as she could manage, as she tumbled across a layer of dust so thick, that her passage disturbed it into a large cloud that surrounded her.

There was no time to waste, to lie there and cry over all the bits of her that hurt. Trying and failing to regulate her breathing and quell the panic inside her, she dragged herself upright and sought her bearings. As she had hurtled closer, she was certain that she had seen something in the dust that looked like the outline of a hatch. Her vision was blurring when she found the spot, wiping her hand across the outline, looking for something that resembled an access port to the door controls.

Nothing.

She let out a wail that she could not afford and bashed the bottom of Anya’s air tank against the hatch in frustration. The blurring in her vision became darkness and she stopped banging. There was no point, this was it, the moment when death claimed her.

Movement under her knees and she was falling. She didn’t fall far, crashing gently against another, dirt free, surface. The little light she had, disappeared and she more felt, than saw, the hatch close. Numb fingers scrabbled at her helmet catch, desperate to release the seal. Weak, she discarded the helmet and tried to take a breath.

Her lungs heaved, not finding any oxygen. She clamped her lips around the nozzle of Anya’s tank, she let a little out. For a second, the heaving of her lungs eased and then the pressure within the tank matched that of the pressure without and no amount of turning the valve changed that. She let the empty tank go and let out one last sob as her lungs started heave again and the darkness spread from her vision to her mind.


: I thought you said that you had replaced the coupling on T64, Varna?” :

: I did mum! :

: Then why, young lady, is the computer saying otherwise? :

“Because it’s a piece of shit?” Varna muttered before she pressed the ‘talk’ button on her wrist comp. : I’ll go check it again mom. :

: Please do. :

Grumbling, Varna picked up a basic tool kit and headed towards the offending coupling, passing her brother, Muzz, in his bunk space playing one of his games on his computer “Anyone would think there was just me on this heap.”

Muzz looked round. “Did you just say something sis?”

Varna shook her head. “Nope.”

He frowned at her and she carried on to the access plate. A quick unscrew and the plate was off. Shoving the bag of tools in front of her, she crawled in and along the tight passageway. Varna turned on the lamp attached to the shoulder of her ship suit and adjusted the direction of the beam to light her way. Not that she really needed to. She had grown up on this ship and there wasn’t a place aboard that she hadn’t crawled, stooped or run along. Her parents were very keen for her to learn everything about the haulier that they lived in.

“Nothing to do with the credits that they saved by not getting a shipyard to do the repairs...” Varna glared at an innocent transducer as she crawled past. There was the offending bugger. She activated coms to her mother in the bridge.

: Pulling now. : Varna pulled the coupling, examined it, couldn’t find anything wrong with it, and plugged it back in.

: That’s it love, it’s working now. :

Varna gave the coupling the evil eye. “You fucker!” She packed the tools back in the bag and started the laborious task of crawling backwards to the hatch. Her mother was obviously in one of her ’make work’ moods and probably wouldn’t let her rest. She might as well find something more amenable to do before her mother chose for her. She trampled sullenly towards the bridge.

The family owned and run hauler, was on a deliberate longitudal axis spin to generate some gravity. The lump of ice they were currently anchored too, also spinning. Slumping into the

fourth chair on the bridge, she pulled up the ship diagnostics, checking on the legs clamped to the ice. The legs had been a recent addition to the hauler. The plan of their parents, had been to supplement the cargo space within with carrying ability without. This way they could take any lumps of ice they came across, to the stations they visited so they could be rendered down to vital water and air stores for those stations.

It had been a good plan, for a few months, right up to the moment the Cryer Corporation revealed its new enterprise. A fleet of behemoth ships, the size of most stations. These new ice mining and processing ships were just a series of large rotating spiked ‘munchers’ at the front, processing in the middle and a series of large ports along the side at the rear where tankers could dock. Small tugs would latch onto large chunks of ice, guide them to the front of the processor and then ‘nudge’ them towards the slowly rotating toothed rollers. Inertia would do the rest.

The specially angled roller teeth would break the ice down into smaller chunks and feed it internally past the reactor core, which melted the ice into liquid and then steam, which drove the turbines generating the machinery. The steam then was condensed, filtered and purified before being pumped to the awaiting tankers via pipes the same diameter as the ‘Good Will’- the freighter owned by Varna’s parents. The heavy metals and other impurities contained within the ice, was fed to other specialised ore ships and were either transported to space factories that required them, or deposited in decaying orbits of the closest sun.

The sheer quantity of ice these ships could render down to component parts and the speed at which they did it, virtually put the ice hauling business out of action overnight. There was still the odd station here and there that required the occasional ice ‘top up’, but the cost of rendering the ice down to water and oxygen, along with the space required in a station - where space was always at a premium- made the whole process very expensive compared to just paying for a delivery of two large bulk tankers carrying water and compressed oxygen.

Unless, of course, you were a station of dubious legality or one that dabbled in more ‘illicit’ trade and couldn’t use the services provided by the larger corporations and the legal over-watch that came with their services.

Stations like the one they were currently heading towards.

Her mother was keeping one eye on the scanners and another on the ships read-outs. The legs looked good to Varna, the pressure readouts informing her that they still had a good hold of the ice. She flicked the view screen from mechanical to Astrogation. Varna liked to look at the star maps, to dream of the planets within the various solar systems. Imagining herself on tropical island paradise somewhere, standing under a waterfall, some well-toned male coming over to wash her back, run his hands through her hair, his hands sliding...

“Varna...”

She sighed inwardly. “Yes mum...”

“Can you go to B12. I have a report of a leaking coolant pipe. I did ask your brother to check on it earlier. But It appears that it has slipped his mind.”

Yet again, Varna sighed internally. She had never been on a planet, let alone a tropical paradise with a waterfall, but she had been dreaming of them a lot lately. Especially the bit where a well-toned male came over to help her. She really liked those bits.

Not for the first time, she wondered how her brother got away with so much. She collected her bag of tools again and headed to B12 and the offending pipe. Sure enough, the coolant pipe was leaking at a join. She removed two spanners and with a grunt of effort, tightened the join. She wiped the join down with a cloth and cleaned up the puddle underneath. Once that was done, she re-checked the join. It was still dry. The spanners had left scrapes on the join that hadn’t been there before. It was obvious to her, that her brother had made no attempt to tighten the pipes. Or even if he had been to look. Which she doubted that he had.

Varna sat with her back up against the coolant pipes, there was a waterfall that was beckoning her back, warm streams running between and over her newly burgeoning breasts...

: Varna, love? :

For fucks sake mum! : Yes mom...? :

: Once you sort that, could you head to... :


Their father brought the hauler into their designated dock. They had dropped the ice cluster into a waiting bay, where a tug would feed it into the stations processor when it was needed. Dad was still grumbling about the price for the ice as the clamps anchored onto the freighters hull. It was a lot less than they had been expecting, but enough, just, for them not to have made a loss.

Judging by the amount of ice in the storage bays, those that arrived now with ice wouldn’t be so lucky, though it all depended on when the next water and air tankers arrived.

“Can we go aboard?” Varna asked of their parents, who looked at each other. “We’ll stick to the main thoroughfares and shops.” She continued hopefully. She could see the decision being passed back and forth between her parents.

Their mother eventually shook her head. “Not this time love. When your father or I have time, we will take you out.”

Which was basically adult speak for ‘never’. She had to try, even though she already knew the reply. “But mummm...”

“We said ‘No’ Varna.”

Fucks sake! Varna left the bridge in a sulk, her brother following behind.

“You had to push it, didn’t you V?” He grumbled.

Still in front of him, she didn’t turn her head and stuck her tongue out, knowing full well that he couldn’t see. The only bit of rebellion that seemed open to her, so she took it, feeling slightly better for it.


As expected, their parents were ‘too busy’ to take them aboard. Varna bemoaned the loss of a chance to peruse the shops. What was the point of earning money if she wasn’t allowed to spend it. And then there was the existence of a station full of boys her age, who weren’t her brother and now she had lost the chance to experience the pleasure of a stolen kiss and, ‘other’ things that she had read about, and so desperately wanted to experience. She had pushed the matter further than she probably should have with her parents, but, she wasn’t a child anymore. Granted, she wasn’t an adult either, but that was beside the point, she had to start learning to be an adult at some point, why not now? Her mother was always telling her that she needed to start taking more responsibility, well, how was she supposed to do that if she wasn’t given the chance? For crying out loud, she was trusted to work on critical ship systems but not walk around a station? How did that even make sense.

Her mother commed her with yet more busy work. No, she wasn’t going to do it. Feeling greatly daring, she turned off her com. What could her parents do? Confine her to a ship that she was already confined to? Confine her to her room, which would stop her from doing all those petty little repairs? Yes please! Stop her from donning a space suit and going for a walk to all those places of ill repute that were, like, three million miles away? Confining someone to their room in a spaceship with a habitat living space consisting of one floor seventeen metres by seven was beyond logical. She pulled over her tablet. She was too angry to retreat to her tropical mindscape with its pleasing male occupants, so she called up some clothes vendors, dreaming wistfully of some of the outfits. Pretty much all of them were unsuitable for zero-g wear, though that did arouse some interesting imagery if they were going to be worn in that environment with the right male individuals.

Her door slid open and not for the first time, she wondered what the point of door locks were, when your parents had over-ride access. Varna pointedly didn’t look up, determined to use every scrap of rebellion at her disposal. Her bed dipped as someone sat on it. There were only two people it could have been. A fifty-fifty chance, though she could tell by the breathing that it was her mother.

“Varna...”

I’m not listening nah-nah-nah...

“Varna look at me...”

Nope. There was a sigh, a gentle hand on her shoulder. Varna couldn’t help herself and rolled over, displaying red eyes and tear tracks down her cheeks to her mother. Her mother met her gaze. It was obvious to Varna that she was struggling to say something. Her mother didn’t usually suffer from that problem.

“I get it. I really do. I know this might sound strange, but I was once your age. Once.” She said with a rueful smile. “I went through what you went through...”

I don’t believe you!

“And all the gods willing, I pray that someday you will be sat on a bed having this conversation from my perspective...”

No fucking chance! Or at least, not if I don’t, you know, actually get to meet the opposite sex...

“Had it been one of the other stations. We would have no issue with the both of you going aboard unaccompanied, but not that one, nor the one we are heading to either.”

“Why?” Varna knew she was pouting, but couldn’t help herself.

“You are a beautiful girl Varna, you will be, you are, turning into a beautiful woman. Some men will covet that beauty, and not in a good way, with regards to your safety.”

“They will rape me?” Varna said, urging her mother to get to the point and bugger off.

Her mother paused “Yes. Yes they will. Sex can be. It is. A beautiful thing. That can birth something even more wonderful...” She said with a loving smile and swept the hair from Varna’s eyes. “However, It can also be a thing of great pain and ugliness. I don’t want you to experience that side of it. Ever. Nor does your father. Please believe me when I say that we are only thinking of you. Yes. I know that it doesn’t appear that way now, but you will understand. Though part of me wishes with all my heart that you will never need to. But I’m too much of a realist for that fantasy. The simple truth of the matter is that there was people on that station and the one we are heading to, that have no more care for your wellbeing than you have for the dust that passes our hull, and would just discard you like trash after they had their pleasure. Some of them wouldn’t even care if you lived. In fact. They would happily kill you during the rape. And would kill your father and I if we were to try and stop them.”

Varna felt a chill down her back.

Her mother carried on. “Yes, I know that’s an ugly thought love, but it doesn’t make it any less likely. I’ll let you have the rest of the shift off. It’s time your brother pulled his weight anyhow.” Her mother gave her head another stroke. “It really is for your best Varna.” And with that, she departed.

Fuck you!

Her mother was true to her word and let her have the rest of her shift off, though Varna would still have traded it for station time.


Varna was asleep when a violent shake almost sent her from her bed in a tumble. Confused and with a brain still sleep fogged, she heard warning bells sound throughout the ship. The almost continual sound of the main thruster was missing. Had they suffered a major mechanical fault in the drive? She tried comming either of her parents, but the background noise was too great to hear anything. She made her way to the bridge as she felt herself start to become lighter. They had lost thrust and obviously a lot of their spin in order to start losing gravity. Dad was on coms to someone and her mother was looking worried. No. Terrified. Her mother was looking absolutely terrified.

“Mom? What’s going on?”

“Muzz, go check the damage.”

What! I’m not my brother! Varna opened her mouth to say so, but her mother quickly shook her head and held her right forefinger up to and across her lips. “Now Muzz!” Varna turned and hurried from the bridge. She hadn’t got far when her mother caught up to her, grabbing her to stop her motion. “Hide Varna. Hide and do not come out. Not for anything. You hear me Varna? Not for anything. Promise me.”

“I promise mama.”

“Go! hide my love. No matter what happens, we will always love you. Always.” And she turned back to the bridge. Varna headed for the closest hidey-hole. There were four on the ship, which she and her brother had been drilled on their use countless times, though she never really knew why. What set them apart from the other access points, were that the exterior panel retaining bolts were false and the panels could be pulled back and secured from the inside. Their parents had made a game of it when they were younger and Varna and Muzz used to hide from each other all the time, before the novelty had eventually worn off.

In the darkness she waited for whatever terrified her mother to pass. The ship shuddered is it collided with something, or something collided with them. Another clang and her ears popped as the ships internal pressure changed. Someone had opened the internal door of the air lock. She could feel vibrations through the metal surrounding her. There was a distinct shouting. The vibrations were feet. They had lost most of their gravity, so whoever had come aboard was using grav-boots, hence the vibrations as the metal soles of the boots were sucked to the deck plates. A scream cut short.

Mother!

The stomp of mag boots went past. Laughter. Lots of male laughter. The sound of drawers being opened, contents being discarded. They had been boarded and this far from the main shipping lanes, she doubted that it was official.

Pirates.

It was one thing to read about them, another to experience their attention first hand. Varna closed her eyes and tried not to think about what was going on outside in the ship as the alarms we’re silenced.

: What’s this, what have we here? Hello, hello, testing one two, one two. :

Varna felt her bladder loosen as she desperately tried to shut her coms bracelet up. The footsteps in the passageway outside stopped and another gruff male voice called out.

“I think we’ve got a live one here!” More footsteps and Varna placed a forefinger between her teeth and bit down.

“Where?”

“Over here somewhere. I heard a voice behind the wall.”

“Bring the scanner over! Yip! We have a hider!”

“Where?”

“In the wall somewhere ... There, right there.”

“How many?”

“Scanner shows one.”

“Well, open it up and let’s see what we’ve got.”

The panels around her resounded to the sound of blows and a chunk of light lit up her hidey hole as the panels deformed. The access panel was ripped off and a hand grabbed her ankle. She screamed and kicked out at the hand as she was dragged from her cavity.

“Well aren’t you a pretty one...” Varna swung a small fist at the closest.

“Woah and feisty!” A blow to her stomach winded her and dropped her to the floor. A hand grabbed her hair and another her wrist, twisting it painfully behind her back as she was lifted. She screamed aloud as the men around her laughed. Varna was dragged to the bridge where her mother started crying when she saw her. Their unwanted boarders were dressed in armoured vac-suits. Their helmet visors lifted, the armour plates daubed with graffiti -swear words and nude pictures of genitalia.

“What’s on the manifest?” One asked.

The raider at the computer console looked up “Not much.”

“Anything we can use?”

“No, not really.”

“Well you know the drill. Food-fuel and fanny!” The men cheered and some headed off.

“Please, we” A weapon butt to her father’s face broke teeth, likely his jaw and stopped whatever he was about to say.

Varna was too shocked to do anything but stare. The one that seemed to be in charge, turned to look at Varna and then her mother. “Strip the two cunts, let’s see what we’ve got.” She felt hands tug at her ship-suit and she struggled anew. Varna saw a lethal looking knife out the corner of her eye and she felt the contents of her bladder run down her legs. The knife made quick work of her suit and her plain and functional underwear underneath. Her mother was likewise stripped naked as her brother struggled and shouted.

“I’ve had enough of the young pup. He’s too old anyway.” The leader nodded and another knife was produced. This one flashed across her brothers throat and with a wet gurgle, he was dropped to the floor. Varna screamed into the hand across her mouth as her mother screamed into the cabin, a horrible pitiful wail and struggled against the two raiders holding her, to try and get to her dying son. “Ahhh, I love the sound of a mother watching her spawn ended. Anyone want the old cunt before she’s spaced?” One figure nodded and started to remove his armour. The leader looked at Varna “Take her over, she can join the rest.” The raider had only removed part of his armour and after pushing her mother down onto the deck, knelt and positioned himself between her mother’s legs, causing her mother to scream out load again.

The last look she saw of her family, was the hopeless look on her father’s face, the thrusting hips between her mothers and the lifeless face of her brother. She bit the hand over her mouth and wrenched her head free. “Mother” she called out desperately.


“Mother!” She called out desperately. Varna opened her eyes.

Her head was groggy, the sharp taste of bile in her mouth. Her chest and lungs hurt. Had she actually called out, or was it just the memory of that pleading shout from all those years ago, still resonating in her mind? The airlock didn’t feel right. It felt bigger. The air didn’t feel right either. It seemed clean, fresh. New. Like the time she had sneaked a tank of air from a delivery. Fresh, un-breathed air on its way to a station. She had only done it once, the resultant thrashing ensuring that, but she had never forgotten the smell, the taste, the way her head had felt so clear, how it made her feel so alive. How it made her wonder if that was what it was like to live on the surface of a planet.

Varna rolled onto her knees, reached her hands out into the darkness, felt her helmet, picked it up and clipped it to her belt, fingers found a wall, followed it round. Her hands disappeared when the surface she was expecting never materialised. The internal hatch must have opened when she was out cold. She shivered, not through fear, but because it was actually cold.

“Hello!” Her voice echoed in the room beyond, the cold temperature lending her voice a strange quiver. She had never heard such a strong echo before. A few times in an empty or near empty cargo bay. Was it just dark or was she blind? She touched her nose but couldn’t see movement, couldn’t see her hand. “Hello! Anyone here?” Nobody but for her echo. Maybe they are busy? Varna stepped through the hatchway, her helmet clunking off the edge of the hatch. She took a cautious step forward, waving her hands in front of her face, searching out for obstructions.

The space beyond was huge and she quickly become disorientated. She had no idea where the hatch had been, which way she facing. To make matters worse, she was starting to lose her sense of up and down. It was just too much for her and she slumped back down onto the floor and broke down into tears. She sobbed loudly, could feel the snot run down from her nose, but she didn’t care. She just howled into the darkness. Varna didn’t know when she could start to see again. A shadowy outline of a wall appeared long before her brain registered that it could see, in a fashion. She wiped her suited arm across the end of her nose, leaving a long slimy trail of snot down her forearm.

Yes, she could definitely make out objects. And the hatch she had come through. Varna stood, limbs shivering, and searched the frame around the hatchway. She couldn’t see any means of shutting it, or turning up the lights. She ran her hands over the walls either side, yet felt nothing. Her trembling was becoming more pronounced. She started doing star-jumps, her helmet bouncing painfully off her hip before she stopped and removed it before carrying on. The exercise warmed her cold limbs up. She wanted to remove the cumbersome survival suit, but it was providing another layer of insulation against the cold inside the ship. Recalling the brief glimpse she had seen of the ship and the hatch, she tried to orientate herself against the hatch and head towards where she thought the bridge should be.

There seemed to be so much empty space where they should be rooms, equipment, clutter. There was a chair, or what appeared to be a chair facing nothing, or at least, nothing that her eyes could make out in the murk. She made her way over to it and sat in it. It felt funny to her touch and didn’t really fit her small frame, pushing into her body in awkward and uncomfortable spots. The chill was taking over her body again, so she stood, carried out some more energetic exercises till she almost built up a sweat, before sitting back down. She was exhausted. Emotionally and physically. It was so tempting just to close her eyes for a moment in the darkness, to let the darkness back in...


The Ship

It was the sudden change of direction that initially flagged the object to the sub mind. These things happened often in the asteroid field, but normally a second party, like another asteroid was involved. A quick scan revealed no other objects were involved and that the direction change was initiated by the object itself. Preliminary calculations put the obit on a collision course, though it appeared to be slowing down. It sent a readiness alert to the guns and since the situation was out-with its operating parameters, it awoke Main.

Main checked systems as it calculated time passed since the last time it had been awoken. Three thousand four hundred revolutions. The time was logged as it reviewed the data from the sub minds since its last awakening, all in the blink of a revolution. The object was biological and though it was on collision course, it wasn’t travelling at a velocity that would imperil hull integrity. Intrigued, it stood the guns down as it scanned wider afield and could not find the craft the biological had departed from. The unexpected visitor had slowed down enough to ensure its landing was not fatal, though it still contacted at a speed that could not have been pleasant. The biological wasted no time in recovering and heading towards a nearby hatch. Main was curious. It had no record of the biological in any of its records, yet somehow, the biological knew where the ship lay. Maybe it could explain the hole in its data banks, explain the purpose as to why it was moored here. It had so many questions. Not least why it had chosen to wear such a flimsy suit in such a dangerous environment. The suit it wore would provide no protection against any of the particles currently bouncing around between the larger rocks.

The hull echoed to the sound of frantic blows. Why didn’t the biological just ask for the door to open? This close, Main could scan deeper into the biological. It didn’t appear to be in good condition. Whilst it had no data on the tolerance’s of such a biological, reconstruction of the unknown creature in a sub-mind, was suggesting that it was operating well past recommended tolerances and was perilously close to inadvisable. Main opened the hatch, and the figure tumbled in, removing its helmet before Main had even worked out what environment it operated in, which, again, was beyond logical.

Going by its increased distress, vacuum wasn’t one of its recommended operating conditions. Intriguingly, it appeared to be trying to breathe through the device it had been using as a propulsion unit. Main analysed the gas that was escaping the seal between the biological and the propulsion tank. It had those elements in storage and set a sub mind to fabricating it as the biological collapsed, thrashed as it’s systems shut down, and eventually lay still. Main increased the speed in which it pumped the gas into the dock. The sub mind continuing to deal with the theoretical experiments relating to the biomechanical abilities of the unknown biological, extrapolated a pressure reading and Main adjusted the environment of the ship to suit as it continued to run scans of the biological in its pressure-lock.

The biologicals central processing unit appeared to be in its top most part and appeared to be going through some sort of re-boot, as all electrical activity had declined to a bare minimum. Apparently just enough to ensure continued working of the main fluid pump and gas intake/exhaust system.

It was a surprising design, with many parts of unknown purpose. It seemed to be taking a very long time for the biological to re-boot, implying major errors in its system, possibly a corrupted operating system. It would seem that the biological wasn’t going to be doing anything soon, so main turned its attentions to other matters, testing the function ability of all its systems. All came back within acceptable parameters. Uncertain of its impending future, it retired the remotes from the shaft deep within the asteroid. A shaft that had been slowly expanding as the revolutions turned, Main using the materials mined to repair and replace

ship parts and functions as required. The remotes docked safely, it closed the hull access point over the shaft and test fired the main thrusters, watching the stress readings on the anchors embedded into the asteroid. All was within expected tolerances. Main cycled the thrusters down and waited.


A disturbingly long time later, the higher functions of the biological CPU started to show more electrical activity and it finally started to move. It’s whole body starting to vibrate and generate internal thermal activity. The biological appeared to have some sensory malfunction in its optical sensors, though Main couldn’t see what the issue was, as it had seen Main with no apparent problems out in vacuum. The issue could be with its helmet. So Main ran another scan on it. It didn’t appear to provide any ocular advantages other than basic physical protection. Maybe Main was missing something, though further analysis was not corroborating that data point. The sub mind tasked with examining the biological, suggested changing through the light spectrums to see if that had any physiological effect upon the new passenger. That seemed a logical progression. Main adjust the internal electromagnetic spectrum, finally eliciting a response from the biological as four hundred nanometres was reached.

The biological was now displaying intense physical movement that seemed to have no purpose other than to increase internal temperature drastically, which seemed to be counterproductive as it would only lose it just as quickly. Was it attempting to communicate? There were no protocols for this situation in its memory banks. The biological sat in the commanders seat. Main knew it as the commanders seat, though who and what the commander had been, was and had always been somewhat of a mystery. The requisite data having been purged from its files by an unknown entity at an unknown time. The only proof to that fact being the suspiciously large hole in its memory banks. Data had been written, and then it had been securely deleted. That was obvious, and the newly arrived biological may hold all the answers. Though it was obvious to Main that it didn’t fit the seat, so it was obviously not the original commander. If it was going to stay, then that needed rectifying. It set the requisite actions in motion as the biological leapt up and started its cycle of energetic movement again. More data from the sub mind. It had deduced that the ambient temperature was too low and recommended increasing the ships internal temperature till the biological stopped it’s exceedingly inefficient thermal generation. The data was plausible and Main increased the ships internal temperature in response.

The biological’s pump slowed again as the temperature rose. CPU activity reduced to bare system minimum. Main sent a query to the sub mind and received the electronic equivalent of an unknowing shrug.

Varna

Varna jerked awake. The bitter taste of sleep back in her mouth. She had no inclination as to the time, or how long she had been asleep for. They hadn’t been allowed chronographs on the raider ship. Bed warmers and sex toys hadn’t needed to know the time. Even when outside the hull, the only indication to time had been the time remaining on the survival suit Air tanks.

The air was a lot warmer and everything was a weird purple hue, but at least she could see. Her suit was damp and felt horrible. As was the smell coming from it. The inevitable consequence of emptying one’s bladder inside. Not helped by the stale smell of sweat. Emergency suits were just that, for short emergencies of a few hours. She unsealed and climbed out of the suit. The reinforcing round the cuffs, ankles and neck had rubbed her skin raw at those points. She searched through the pouches on the utility belt. The only object of note, was a small piece of dirt encrusted ration bar. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and she tried not to think about what was coating the sticky bar as she futilely tried to clean the outside of it. Her cleaning efforts didn’t have much success and with a fatalistic shrug, she popped it into her mouth and tried not to think too much about the crunchy bits on the outside that shouldn’t be there.

Varna wandered around the internal space, looking for a survival suit tank recharge point that should exist, somewhere. She didn’t find one. Without it, she wouldn’t be able to survey the outside of the hull, see if the ship was still flight worthy.

The ship was devoid of, well anything. Which made sense if you were going to abandoned it in the middle of an asteroid field. Her bladder was making its full status readily apparent, which was an issue given the distinct lack of toilet. Varna stepped into the airlock, pulled her pants to her knees and crouched in the corner and let loose a dark steam that looked worse in the purple light. She shuffled her feet out of the way of the spreading pool. Gravity. The ship had gravity, otherwise her urine would be floating through the air in a rather unpleasant cloud. Yet she was sure the ship didn’t have enough spin to generate the gravity she was currently under. She decided to worry about that later. First priority was to get moving. She pulled her pants back up and walked over to the chair, which when she sat in it, she was certain had shrunk. The uncomfortable protrusions had gone, somewhere. Another enigma to be dealt with at another point in time.

Varna looked at the blank hull in front of her. As command chairs went, it was pretty rubbish. How could you control a craft with no controls? It was beyond stupid. She growled in frustration, slammed her hands on the chairs’ armrests. A purple hued screen appeared about forty centimetres in front of her face and expanded to roughly one hundred and twenty centimes in width by sixty centimetres in height, centralised upon her head.

“Holographic! of course!” She prodded at it with a cautious finger. Dots appeared. She frowned. Constellations? Varna stuck two fingers on the projection and moved them apart and the projection magnified. Hope lit within her. This was progress. Hopeful progress. She played around for a bit, rotating the image. One of the blobs, had an icon on it and she expanded it to see the outline of a hull. This was obviously her. She zoomed back out a little and leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, trying to remember everything about her approach towards the ship. It was hard, she hadn’t taken much on board at the time. All that came to her mind was Anya’s sorrowful expression. Concentrate Varna! Concentrate! She rotated the three dimensional display till she was staring at the ship like she had been when she had first spotted it.

A bit of trial and error had her drawing the view back till the edge of the asteroid field was reached. She stabbed the rough point of where she reckoned she had been cast off. Now all she had to do was get there. How did she make the ship get there? She prodded and poked at the point, hoping that some menu would helpfully appear with a “fly here” option. She looked around the edge of the holo, but there were no menu options. She tried stabbing the point again. Still nothing. Try dragging?

Varna navigated back to the ship, stuck a right forefinger on it and slowly dragged a route through the asteroids, manipulating the map with her left hand, so that her right finger ended back up at the edge of the asteroid field. Nothing she growled angrily and navigated back to the ship and tried again.

This time, a line appeared where her finger travelled. “Yes!” She carefully traced the route again, the line weaving all the way to the edge. She tapped repeatedly, but nothing seemed to happen. She slumped back in frustration. “Just fucking fly there!” She said pointing to the terminus point. A vibration started in her seat. She held her breath and the ship in the holo slowly moved away from the asteroid. “Yes! Fucking yes! You fucking dancer!” She punched the air in joy. For a horrible moment, she worried that her fist pump might have set a path too close to one of the asteroids. That would be just typical of her, to guide her first command straight into a rock. At least no one will see, or know of my stupidity...

The ship icon steadily moved across the screen, there was no scraping sounds emanating from the hull, no loud bangs and no sudden inward dents in the walls. Yet.

Now all she had to do was get to civilisation. Slowly, carefully, she stood and moved away from the holograph, making sure not to touch any part of it with any part of her body least she somehow made the ship fly off course. Moving over to one of the walls, she licked the tip of a finger and pressed it against the wall, leaving a mark. That was going to be her parents original destination. She closed her eyes tried to picture the star map is her mind’s eye.

There had been a planet about... there ... She opened her eyes licked her finger and added another mark. And one here. Another one there. A sun was here. A blue screen appeared suddenly in front of her, making her jump and emit a yelp of surprise. Her marks were already on the screen. Varna quickly looked round and sighed in relief when she saw the one in front of her seat was still there.

“That’s handy!” Varna didn’t know how to create dots on the screen, so for want of any better ideas, licked her fingertip and pressed it in the air. A dot appeared. There must be an AI somewhere on board. Varna added that to the growing list of things she needed to chase up. She tried the same movement she used to rotate the other screen, on this one. It rotated. That certainly made creating a star map easier. She filled in the constellation as best as she could remember. Looking thoughtfully at her handiwork, she took hold of either edge of the screen in either hand, and tried to move it. After a moment of lag, the screen moved. She took a step back, pulling it back with her. The screen followed. She laughed happily and increased her speed, dragging the screen back to the chair. Varna parked the new second screen to the right of her chair, offset ninety degrees to the first and within reach. She checked the first screen. The only clue to their continued movement was the gentle vibration and the movement of the icon across the screen. Satisfied she turned her attention back to

the second, trying to fill out as much detail as she could. Eventually the map was as accurate as she was ever going to get it. The icon of the ship in the front screen still had a bit to go.

Time enough to rest her eyes for a bit...


Varna awoke to a dry mouth yet again. Whilst asleep, she’d had a few ideas on how to improve her map and turned her head to start, only to find a finished map complete with names under the planets and suns. She couldn’t hold back the squeal of excitement. She zoomed into the map till she located Lazeez station. She didn’t know if what she was about to try was possible, there was only one way to find out.

She pressed a fingertip on the ship and dragged it from one screen to the other letting go in the station jump arrival zone. The ship icon flashed where she had left it. What now? She pressed a fingertip against the phantasmal icon in the air and the blinking stopped. She was about to scratch her head in confusion when she felt it. The tiny butterflies in the stomach of a warp jump. The line that had led back to the screen with the asteroid belt disappeared. Varna had never desired a window or a porthole as much as she did now. She looked upon the map screen of the asteroid belt, hating it with a fervour not experienced for some years.

Lifting both hands, she took the two side edges of the holo and threw the whole thing over her left shoulder. In its place, she moved the holo that had been on the right to its new position in front of her, then stood and paced across the deck in nervous excitement. All she had to do was dock the damn thing and she was done.

Moving a finger across the screen was one thing, minutely manoeuvring something this large into a docking clamp was something else. Her parents had never even allowed her to do that with their freighter. She could always get it close and don the emergency suit and float across. If she hyper ventilated first, there might just be enough air in the suit to get her across. Possibly.

She paced up and down then remembered the precariousness of their position. Sitting back in the chair, she moved the ship out of the Jump arrival zone into a closer orbit of the station.

The local map winked out of existence.

“Huh? What? Fuck! What did I do?”

Another Holo screen appeared, showing the face of a very irate female. “Oh. Finally now you decide to accept coms... “ The female docking controller suddenly looked taken aback upon seeing Varna. “Can I speak to your parents, or whoever is control of that illegal craft?

Was there a way of replying? Did she have to press something?

“I am in charge of this vessel.” Varna tried saying cautiously, through a distinct lack of other obvious means of communication.

Really? Put your parents on, child.”

“My parents are dead. I am in command of this vessel.” Was she really? She could barely fly the damned thing. It was a miracle that she wasn’t already dust around a plasma explosion.

Uh-huh. Pull the other one, it has thrusters on it...”

“How is my craft illegal?” How could any station that was barely one step away from being a pirate station, take the high ground about what was and wasn’t legal?

Apart from flying without a broadcasting transponder? And running dark in a high traffic area?

Had they been? “We. I. had technical problems. An explosion on board. There was fatalities and damage. The transponder must have been part of it ... I...” Varna started crying, not all of it forced “may have issues docking.

The docking controller didn’t look convinced, having heard just about every ruse there was. “If you need the services of a tug, that will cost. Payment up front. Nature of your visit?

What was the purpose of her visit? “Repairs.” Which was true enough, sort of.

Uh-huh. Docking bay nineteen. Any damage to the dock or the station will render you liable for the repairs plus ten percent.” The picture disappeared and the previous star map re-opened.

Varna zoomed into the now accurately labelled system map and located dock nineteen. She doubled tapped on it and hoped for the best. The ship had got her this far after all.

With far more trepidation than she wished to experience. Varna watched the dock draw closer. The coupling was that gentle, that the first she knew of it was the opening of the external hatch. For a horrible moment, she thought that it was opening into vacuum. Barefoot, she padded into the dock, along the short coupling corridor and waited impatiently for the station hatch to cycle at the end. Four armed and armoured station security awaited her with weapons drawn and raised.

They took a collective step back when they were suddenly faced with the extremely dirty, smelly, malnourished young girl dressed in only a dirty stained pair of briefs and tattered bra-let that hung loosely about a chest dominated by far too many clearly visible ribs. Varna walked right through the middle of them. Armed and armoured men no longer scared her.

“Fuck! You stink!” One of the men uttered, retching.

Varna didn’t look, back tossing “It’s what happens when you run out of water...” carelessly over her shoulder. She needed a plan, except she hadn’t one, was just winging it. Making it up, quite literally, as she walked. Dock fees would need paying, a transponder would need acquiring, along with the fake profile to go with it. She didn’t even know when she had decided to keep the craft. But keep it she had decided. She would need fuel, water, food and a cargo run to pay for it all. She stepped out of the dock into a transit tube. The other occupants of the transit tube coughing and covering their noses as they stared at the barely human thing that had entered. She needed a bank account Hah! Good luck with that! A new communicator, a shower. Oh! And some clothes.

The transit tube stopped at the main concourse and the other occupants fled the carriage. Varna followed at a considerably slower speed. The concourse was busy though the crowd parted to let her through, a wide exclusion zone forming around her. The first couple of money brokers she tried, had security immediately throw her out and bar the door against re-entry. Okay. I’ll need to modify things slightly. She searched for and found a public info terminal. The queue for its use, quickly found other, better places to be when she joined it. She stabbed at the keyboard searching for a communal baths. She scrolled down the listings for the cheapest. Noting the location, she headed there, no-one appeared to be in a hurry to use the terminal she had just vacated.

The baths were nestled in-between a bar and a brothel. Varna ignored the man behind the kiosk and walked on in. “Oi! Where the fuck do you think you are going!” He stabbed a button on the desk in front and locked the inner door. “Fuck! You stink.”

Varna shrugged. “It’s why I’m here.”

“Have you no clothes?” Varna shook her head “Have you any credits?”

Again she shook her head. “Will you trade for a blow job?” She asked in all seriousness.

The man shuddered and looked ready to throw up “Fuck off, you dirty cunt!” Varna sat down “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Sitting down.” Varna said, getting comfortable on the floor.

“The fuck you are!”

“The fuck I just did. Or...” She paused deliberately “You could just let me in...”

Indecision warred on his face. A group of ship crew were approaching but stopped and quickly turned about when they saw and smelt Varna. The attendant watched the potential customers turn tail and flee. “For fucks sake! One minute that’s all.”

“Soap?”

“You need bleach not soap ... Number twelve.” The door opened and Varna sprung quickly to her feet before he changed his mind.

Varna headed into the female side which was currently empty. She walked past the lockers and into the communal shower which drained into a hole in the middle. The shower heads had numbers under them. Varna headed to the twelfth. There was a soap dispenser under the shower head next to the activation button. Varna activated the soap dispenser and smeared it all over her body and hair till it refused to dispense more, only then did she finally strip off her underwear, rubbing the two parts against each other. After she had ensured both parts were thoroughly saturated with soap, she used the bra-let to scrub at all the bits of her body that she could reach.

Voices sounded outside in the changing room. Varna ignored them and carried on. “Fuck! It smells like someone has died in here...”

“Maybe someone has...”

“Smells like Calvin’s breath, maybe he is waiting inside for you Carmina.”

“Ugh, please...”

Locker doors were opened and shut and three women, still chatting away, entered.

They paused when they saw the almost black, emaciated girl in the corner. The chatter died and they smeared soap over their own naked bodies in silence. Having reckoned that the soap had saturated into her dirty skin as much as it was going to, Varna finally hit the water button. The water that came out of the shower head was look-warm and not under very much pressure, but it was water. By the time the water reached the floor at her feet, it was more sludge than liquid. The brown stain slowly creeped towards the drain. The other three women exchanging quiet looks as they turned their own water on.

The liquid at her feet had only just reached a murky colouring when the water shut off. Varna wrung out her underwear as tightly as she could and left the shower room hearing frantic whispering start even before she entered the changing room. Dirty as she still was, this was the cleanest she had been for at least a year, if not longer. Underwear still damp she slipped it on over an equally damp body. She tried to run her fingers through her hair, but it was so badly tangled that cutting it was probably the best way forward. Back out in the public areas of the station, she still drew stares, as expected of a girl wandering around in her -damp- underwear. Varna didn’t care about the stares. When you had been repeatedly raped every day for several years, some things no longer bothered you. Her new state of cleanliness didn’t help much with the money lenders. They didn’t throw her straight out on entering, but listened to her polite requests for a short term temporary loan, and then threw her out.

The last financial institution on the list was the one she wanted to use the least. It had been the one her parents had used. She entered and made her way over to a free teller. The woman took one look at her and scowled “Beg outside.”

“I’m not here to beg. My parents have an account with you.”

The woman looked sceptical. “Run away from home have you? Run out of money and needing your parents to bail you out?” Varna gave the woman the family name and account number, which the woman typed into her computer. “Hmm. Your family has an outstanding loan and has accrued substantial late and missed penalty fees.”

“My parents are dead.”

“You are aware that their debt is automatically carried over to their next of kin?”

Varna was aware, which was why she hadn’t wanted to come here. “Yes.”

“Do you wish to open a new account or continue with the existing one. Be aware that if you open a new account, your existing family debt will still be linked to it until such time as all monies are repaid?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Is that ‘yes’ you want to carry on with the existing account, or ‘yes’ you want to open a new one with the debt linked?”

“I wish to open a new account.”

“With the debt linked?”

Varna sighed “Yes.” There was no getting away from it really.

“Did you receive any monies from your deceased parents estate that you wish to offset against your debt?”

“No.”

“No, as in you don’t wish to offset the money or ‘no’ you didn’t receive any money?”

“No I didn’t receive any money.” Isn’t it fucking obvious I have no money? I’m sat here in my fucking underwear...

The women typed and swiped away at her keyboard. “Do you still have the family craft or has it been disposed of?”

“No, I do...” Varna paused. “Yes, I still have the craft.”

“Where is the craft currently berthed?”

“Berth nineteen.”

“Here or...?”

“Here.” Varna qualified.

More typing. “The ship berthed at nineteen, has no working transponder...”

“I have experienced some ... technical issues that requires funds in which to facilitate repairs.”

“Hmm...” More typing. “Do you have any outstanding loans with other providers?”

“No. No outstanding loans with other providers.” Varna added before the woman asked again.

The woman lapsed into silence as she typed away. “Purpose of the loan?”

Varna pointedly looked down at her body before looking back up. “Food, clothing, a shower and a replacement transponder.”

“Please place your hand on that plate there. Please ensure that your fingers are within the marked area. You will experience a short sharp prick at a random spot as a sample of your blood is taken.”

Varna placed her hand on the indicated plate and something quickly stabbed into her palm. She knew that the sample was taken from a random spot to try and reduce defeating or manipulating the blood sample taken with a false sample or a topically applied manipulator.

“You can remove your hand now.”

Varna rubbed the lanced area as the woman continued to type rapidly away. What the hell is she doing? Typing up a flying manual for a frigate? The computer beeped and the woman paused yet again. “Your DNA results have come through and you are indeed, a close relative of the existing account holders. I’m just finalising your account. How would you like your access? Code or wrist band?”

“Wrist band, please.” Code would have been pointless as she had nothing to download it to.

“I have authorised a basic overdraft facility. Interest is at four hundred and eighty six percent. Statutory terms and conditions apply.”

Varna winced, not accepting wasn’t really an option. A hatch on the wall behind the bank clerk opened and the woman turned and retrieved the bracelet. Varna held her arm out and the clerk snapped it around Varna’s wrist and held it closed as the chemical bond fused the two ends together.

“Now, can I help you with anything else?” The clerk asked in a tone of voice that implied that she wanted to do nothing of the sort.

“No. That’s everything.”

“Thank you for banking with...”

Varna was already heading out of the door. As much as she wanted to, she avoided the more fashionable boutiques, heading instead towards a store specialising in work wear, making towards the children’s/young teens section of the store. The staff watched her warily, one casually moving between her and the door. Varna picked out a stout pair of boots, tried them on. They didn’t feel quite right. She tried on several pairs before she found a pair that were comfortable. She added two work coveralls to the boots. The coveralls, though they were the correct size for her age, were obviously too big for her current frame. She didn’t mind as she fully intended on changing that situation as soon as possible. Socks, new underwear, gloves and a bump cap which had the dual purpose of protecting her head and keeping her hair out of her face and out of the way of rotating machinery. At the tills, she tapped her wrist bracelet against the sensor and typed in her pass code. As soon as the till bleeped conformation, Varna stripped naked-much to the aroused interest of the male staff and customers who had subtly and not so subtly, been following her progress around the racks and shelves of goods.

The boots squeaked and resisted the articulation of her ankles as she walked. The coverall crinkled and rustled and the reinforced padding over the knees and elbows added a strange weight to her movements. Next stop was an electronics store where she bought the cheapest data slate available along with a utility knife. Next, to a store to buy a hand full of meal bars. The amount she purchased, would normally have sufficed for four days, but given her current state, they would probably last for twice that given the shrunken state of her stomach.

Paying for one night in a spacers hostel, she left her new purchases bar the knife and the clothes she wore, in her room and made her way back to the communal shower she had visited earlier. The man was still on duty and he frowned in unsure recognition. “Yes. It’s me again” She held her bracelet to the reader “I want five minutes of hot water and toiletries, soap, toothbrush and paste, and deodorant. And you can include payment for the earlier session as well.” Varna said, hoping that he didn’t.

Collecting her toiletries, she made her way inside. She stripped off in the changing room as other women and girls either stripped or dressed, half naked she pulled out the utility knife and started hacking at her long unkempt hair.

“Here let me do that.”

“Thanks.” Varna handed the blade over and the woman deftly shortened and neatened up her hair and handed the blade back. Varna smiled in thanks as she collected up the pile of shorn hair and tipped it into the rubbish bin. She placed her belongings in a locker, shut the door and placed her thumb against the reader, locking it. The warm water felt so good. It was like a rebirth. A full stop to her previous life. She was going to walk out a new girl. She wasn’t going to let the last few years define her. When the meter shut the water off, she dried and placed her thumb against the locker reader to open it and get dressed.

Shutting and locking the hostel room door, Varna stripped down to her underwear and climbed into bed with an excited thrill. As beds go, it was as simple and plain as you could get. However, when you were used to sleeping on metal composite grating with just a handful of oily rags as cushioning, It was pure luxury. Nibbling on a meal bar she unboxed her tablet, glanced briefly at the instructions and fired it up. First thing she did was check on all her old accounts, only to find virtually all of them closed down

: This user account has been terminated through lack of activity :

Some of her favourite games had also been shut down, banners pointing her towards the games successor. The loss of her gaming profiles didn’t affect her as much as she was expecting. She could start new ones, her brother couldn’t. Besides, she was finding that computer games had lost their lustre, their frivolity at odds to her forced maturity. She logged into her bank account and checked the balance. Her parents debt would have once reduced her to a gibbering wreck. Now, it just elicited a shrug. The bath house had indeed billed her first use, and had added a service charge for it on top as well. Meanwhile, she had a few thousand ton of star-ship accruing docking charges that needed paying. She also needed to track down it’s make and model so she could download an instruction manual and maintenance files.

Given its size, she might need to employ someone to monitor and maintain its systems. There was so much to do, so much to organise. A dark part of her mind craved the simplicity, the ease of the previous few years. Satisfying the carnal urges of a man was so much easier than this, and the responsibly that came with it. She brutally crushed that thought. she wasn’t going to be anyone’s sex toy ever again. That she vowed.

The Ship

The biological in the seat, if the increased pump pressure was anything to go by, was getting frustrated. Main tried projecting several screens in front of it, but by the lack of dilation of its pupils, it didn’t seem to be registering them. It tried a few more at different bands and frequency till a response was elicited. Main projected their current locale and the surrounding area. Increased CPU activity of the biological implied an understanding. It seemed quite insistent on something. Main tried several approaches, seeing what elicited a response, and where, filing all the new data away. The gesticulations seemed to be implying a path, and it wasn’t as if Main was doing anything else. A function test was probably a good idea after so long moored to the asteroid. All equipment was stored, so it activated main drive, and navigated down the path the biological had directed. It seemed very pleased about that. As it drew clear of the debris field, Main increased the power to the sensors. A signal was detected, and Main located the source, a stationary emitter. Preliminary scans suggested that its role was simply to stay at that position and broadcast the signal.

: Astrogation buoy :

Where did that information come from? Main searched it’s data banks. And could find no origin. That wasn’t acceptable. It couldn’t just have data appear without a traceable and verifiable location path. What was an Astrogation buoy? The answer appeared, again with no discernible location as to its origin. Main instigated a data audit and flagged it top priority. It needed to have full confidence in its data stacks and the information contained within.

The biological was building a picture, possibly a map. Main had no location data in its memory stacks so it couldn’t parse the data as it studied the buoy. The buoy appeared to accept input as well as broadcasting. Curious as to the result, Main uploaded the Biological’s efforts, not expecting any coherent response. Unsurprisingly, there was no response at all.

Main digitally shrugged as it studded it’s surrounding location, building its own map on its own measurements. A signal was directed at it in simplistic binary code, easily deciphered. It was a map, along with distances and labels in a language and measurement scale that were as yet un-deciphered.

Comparing the information the buoy sent of the region of space they were both currently inhabiting, it was a matter of a mere nanosecond to decipher the buoys unit of measurement and translate it to Mains. It might not yet understand the language, but it understood the math. There were symbols within the buoys signal, that appeared to indicate a request for surrounding sectors, should they be needed. They were needed, and the buoy provided at Mains request.

Main absorbed all the information as fast as the buoy could send it, as Main sent the original map the buoy had provided to Mains initial query, to the biological. The biological emitted a heightened response in both CPU and carrier functions when it received the star map, that identified that it was what it was after. By the time the biological had shown a positive physiological response to the map, Main had already subsumed all the data from the buoy with regards to the map data of the space between their current location and the biologicals indicated position, which it was currently repeatedly indicating a desire to go to.

Now possessing accurate data, it was mathematically easy for Main to fold space and arrive at the required destination. Which it did. Upon arrival, it was greeted with a cacophony of information. Sensors picked up a steady background of continual radio traffic from multiple sources, for the first time in thousands of years - certainly since its memory banks had re-started logging data since their mysterious wiping - Main observed another space craft. Several of them, along with what appeared to be some sort of transit hub.

Main continued to absorb all the data as fast as it could be collected and stored it in preparation of decrypting. Main found itself being targeted by signals from a multitude of sources, the most powerful in strength coming from the structure at the heart of all the space born activity in the area. It made no sense to Main, so it displayed the signal to the biological, who appeared to have some understanding and an audible signal was exchanged. The biological within its confines, was indicating a spot on the structure. Observing other craft as they connected and disconnected with the structure, it appeared that the biological also wanted Main to dock at the indicated spot on the structure. Initial analysis appeared to show that the support structures surrounding the access point, would anchor onto its hull with no damage, therefore requiring Main to have little need to maintain manoeuvring ability in order to keep station with the structure. Main lined up the internal bridge access point to that of the structure and carefully brought itself in. The locking arms moved in and indeed secured themselves to its hull without any invasive penetration or damage. The biological was showing intense restless activity at the hull hatch. Sensors showed the atmosphere outside to be similar, but with a lot more airborne contaminants.

Main opened the Hatch.

There was a lot of signal traffic, some unsecured, most secured to various levels. None posed a hindrance to Main, since the encryption all seemed to be math based. However, it was still to decipher the non-mathematical language contained within. Since no further interest appeared to be directed towards it, Main set a sub-mind to watch the surrounding activity whilst it leant the majority of its processing power to understanding the language.

Three hours later, as measured by the station, and with no sign of it’s biological, it had compiled an understanding accurate enough to start assimilating all the data being broadcast throughout the sector and indeed, within the station. Very helpfully, the station hosted an easily accessible data stream, which happily responded to every request asked for it. Including highly detailed schematics of the biological, including tolerances and operating parameters. Main was able to use this information to correct and modify its own observations, and increase the range of light spectrums it had initially attributed to being within the biological’s range.

Main was surprised at just how much information was freely available over what the biological’s it now knew to be collectively termed as ‘humans’, called the ‘Star-net’. An information highway that connected planets with their own individual ‘Internet’, the surrounding space of the aforementioned planets which they called ‘Outer-nets’ all linked in a web by the Star-net.

Many of its initial passengers’ frustrations -which it now knew to be a ‘girl’ - had now become understood. Other space going craft all followed a similar basic structure and similar universal standards. They all had manual controls and visual representations of ship functions and of the space surrounding the immediate area outside of the vessel. Which Main lacked. Along with purpose assigned sleeping areas, eating areas and ablution areas. Waste transfer being a system function they had limited control over. Hence the ‘girls’’ actions in the outer hull hatchway.

Now that it fully understood the humans language and now that it had access to the Star-net, it was simple enough to search and find out what the humans classed as a highly effective ship layout. It also appeared, that whilst humans had a largely majority based opinion as to what was classed as ‘desirable’, they seemed completely unable to combine all the various designs into one singular hull. Whilst some craft had what they, humans, collectively agreed as a good pilot position and control layout, they would bemoan a terrible sleeping area layout or a poorly thought out and cramped ablution layout in the toilet area. It seemed illogical that they didn’t combine all the feely available information into one hull.

Even more bizarrely, some craft manufacturers seemed determined to repeatedly implement designs that were universally loathed, even when they knew they were loathed.

Main designed its own environmental space to incorporate the more desirable layouts. An audit of the raw materials in storage, confirmed that there was enough mass to facilitate the changes, so it created a sub-mind to oversee the work. There was still no sign of its human returning, however Main had discovered that the station was overseen by an overlapping array of video and audio sensors. Whilst it wasn’t readily available to the majority of the humans on board -less than one point three percent of the current population -, the security around its use was easily circumvented. When it eventually tracked down its ‘girl’ passenger, she had been undergoing modifications of her own. She had reduced drastically the length of what they termed ‘hair’ and had changed her skin colour from its dark hue to a lighter one.

Main created another sub-mind and set it to track the girl.

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