by Joe Vasicek
You invaded my home and took me from my family, Stella wanted to scream. Ben, James, father, mother—what did you do to them? The thought made tears well up in her eyes. She rubbed her still-throbbing cheek and started to break down.
“I’m sorry,” she stuttered in between sobs, “it’s just—just that I—I’ve never done this before—and I—”
“Never done what before?” Qasar asked, frowning inquisitively.
“I’ve never done—never slept with a man.”
His eyes narrowed, and he moved closer to her. “Are you telling me that you’re a virgin?”
She took a shaky breath and slowly regained some control. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, that’s it.”
Qasar gave her a hard, penetrating stare. “Don’t lie to me, woman. Why should I believe you?”
Stella cringed with fear. “I—I don’t know,” she said. “But it’s true—I swear!”
“Why didn’t you tell me this from the beginning?”
“You—you never asked.”
“Of course not. What, you expect me to ask every planetborn whore whether she has already defiled herself?”
The contemptuous way he pronounced ‘planetborn’ suggested it was a derogatory term—though Stella didn’t know why, because it didn’t make any sense.
“What do you mean?” she asked. “What’s ‘planetborn’?”
He scoffed. “What do you think it means? You should know—you are one.”
“If it means I was born on a planet,” she said without thinking, “that’s not true.”
She cringed, expecting him to lash out in some way for being contrary. Instead, his eyes widened with surprise.
“You are not planetborn?” he asked.
“N-no,” Stella said, not sure why he’d stopped.
“Then who are you? Where are you from?”
She took a deep breath. “I was born into a merchanter family. We’re from the Colony—that is, one of the stations at the fifth Lagrange point of Kardunash 3.”
“Truly?” said Qasar, his voice completely changed. “So you are not from one of the planets in this system?”
“No,” said Stella. “I wasn’t born on any of Karduna’s worlds; I was born on a space station in a trailing orbit behind the third planet. That’s my home.”
Qasar stroked his goatee with fascination. “Tell me more.”
What does he want to know? Stella wondered. And why?
“My—my home is the Colony, an old mining operation in Kardunash III’s Trojan asteroids. My family mostly transports processed durasteel from home to the ports at Kardunash IV and Kardunash VII.”
“Not planetborn, then,” Qasar muttered, mostly to himself. “But not shipborn either.”
Stella frowned. Shipborn, planetborn—she didn’t know what to make of it.
“I wasn’t born on a ship,” she said, “but I am—I was—training to be an astrogator. I’ve been on half a dozen voyages to other star systems—piloted two of them.”
Qasar nodded at her with respect. Considering how he’d beaten her and ripped off her clothes only moments before, the gesture left her shocked and confused.
“I apologize,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft. “Please forgive me; I thought you were planetborn.”
Why should that matter? Stella wondered. She didn’t dare interrupt him, however.
“If I had known who you were,” he continued, “I would not have…behaved so badly. Since my cousin picked you from the spoils of our conquest, I assumed you were one of them.”
No mention of stripping the prisoners and processing them like cattle. No mention of killing those who resisted—or the senseless massacre of those deemed unfit to live.
“Please, forgive me.”
Stella wasn’t sure what to think or do. With her throbbing jaw and clothes strewn all about the room, the entire discussion felt too surreal. Sensing her discomfort, Qasar put on his robe again and passed the bedlah top and coin dress back to her.
“Thank you,” she said, taking them gratefully. She turned her back and slipped them on—without the underskirt, the coins felt hard against her skin, but at least it was better than nothing.
“You are not like my other concubines,” Qasar stated, “and therefore, you should not be required to do the things that they do. It is not your place.”
Stella frowned. “So—”
“So if you do not wish to lay with me tonight, that is your choice. I will not force you, though I do hope you will keep me company—as my guest.”
Stella hesitated. The bruise on her jaw throbbed with pain—Qasar hadn’t apologized for that, nor did he seem about to.
“Yes, I-I’ll stay,” she said, too afraid to refuse.
“Good,” said Qasar, as if the answer had never been in any doubt.
* * * * *
James walked down the dim, narrow corridor of the Tajji Flame, searching for the captain’s quarters. The mercenary warship was built from the hull of a standard mid-size Tajji freighter, and the interior had been so radically rebuilt that he had to read every sign and label to keep from getting lost. It took him nearly twenty minutes to find the door marked CPTN.
The door hissed open a few seconds after James hit the chime on the access panel. “Ah, Ensign McCoy,” said Captain Nova, still wearing the same dull gray flight uniform from the bridge. “I’ve been waiting for you. Please, come in.”
The moment James stepped inside, he felt as if he were in a completely different ship. Unlike the drab corridors, where exposed pipes and wires ran along the ceiling, Danica’s quarters felt polished and refined. The floor was made of genuine polished wood, while dark mahogany bookshelves lined the walls. Directly opposite the door hung an old-fashioned canvas painting depicting a dramatic desert landscape, probably from Tajjur V before its fall. Though space in the room was tight, a dark leather couch sat on an ornate Auriga Novan carpet, with two comfortable armchairs on either side. A holographic display table sat on the center of the carpet, the only fixture in the room that wasn’t an antique.
“I take it you’ve transferred all your personal possessions to your new quarters,” Danica said, motioning him to come in.
“Yes,” said James, sitting down on the couch. He’d taken only a duffel bag of essentials before Sergeant Krikoryan had gruffly commandeered his ship, but it hardly mattered. Right now, the Catriona was his only possession with any real value.
“Good. And I assume they’re acceptable?”
“Yes, ma’am.” So long as I only sleep there.
“Excellent. Then let’s get to business.”
Danica tapped her wrist console, and a giant hologram filled the space above the table. At once, James recognized the image as a three dimensional map of the Karduna system, with the orbits of each of the seven planets displayed as rings.
“This is our current location,” said Danica. A red light appeared almost directly over Karduna prime, nearly three Gaian AU above the orbital plane. “Your brother and sister were taken prisoner here, at Kardunash IV, exactly thirty-eight days ago.” A blue light illuminated a point along the orbit of the fourth planet, slightly behind the planet itself. “Is this correct?”
“Yes,” said James. Staring at the familiar image of his home system, he still found it hard to believe that all of it was now under the Hameji occupation.
“That makes things very difficult,” Danica continued. “Enough time has elapsed that our targets could be halfway around the Good Hope Nebula by now.”
James’s stomach sank. “Then what should we do?”
“Intelligence is extremely limited, but I suspect that the Hameji have split their fleet into multiple battle groups. Karduna is a choke point along the axis connecting Gaia Nova with the frontier worlds, so if the Hameji plan to launch a multi-pronged campaign against the Gaian Empire, this is where they would split their forces.”
“But Ben and Stella,” said James. “Where are they?”
“That’s our first orde
r of business—gathering the necessary intelligence. It won’t be easy, though. Our only viable option is to hack into the Hameji fleet’s network, and to do that, we’ll have to get close enough to one of their battleships for a nearly instantaneous rate of data transfer.”
James paled. “Hack into their network? Won’t they shoot us down before we get close enough for that?”
“It’s a risk,” said Danica, “but not as great a risk as you might think. I’ve studied the Hameji for quite some time, and I think I see a weakness that we can exploit.”
“You do? What is it?”
“The Hameji have a natural disdain for settled worlds,” said Danica, pacing across the floor. “In their native territory, beyond the outer reaches of settled space, they live entirely out of their ships and are constantly on the move. When they conquer already inhabited systems, they generally don’t establish colonies or mix with the locals. Many times, they don’t even leave behind a garrison.”
“Why?” James asked.
“Because of their inherently nomadic mindset,” Danica explained. “Their grand strategy is not to expand their culture, but to extract as many resources as they can for their battle fleets. Resources are more important to them than territory.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” James muttered sarcastically.
“If you want a chance to rescue your brother and sister, then yes, it is. Since the Hameji view their conquered territories as cash cows for the fleet, they see no need to keep a careful watch over the people they conquer. A lone hacker should be able to break into their databases without anyone noticing. That’s where you come in.”
James nodded. “What do you want me to do?”
“We’ll need to disguise the Tajji Flame as a Kardunasian vessel using the Catriona’s identification codes. Once that’s done, we’ll need to get close enough to the fleet for Ilya to hack into their network.”
“Great—so where’s the fleet?”
Danica paused for a moment to stare at the holographic image in the center of the room. “It’s my guess that the Hameji will be somewhere where they can repair and outfit their battleships,” she said. “What are the major manufacturing centers in the system?”
“Kardunash IV is probably the biggest one,” said James. “It’s certainly the most populated world in the system.” Was the most populated world, he reminded himself. Images of the once lush planet covered in a dirty-gray shroud of death flashed across his mind’s eye. Countless billions of people now lay dead underneath those clouds.
“I thought the fourth planet was pulverized in the invasion,” said Danica, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure that any of that infrastructure survived?”
“Well,” said James, struggling to push the images of the dead world out of his mind, “a lot of the infrastructure was planetside, but K-4 had a good number of orbital factories, plus two major spaceports and a repair yard. I’d bet that most of those survived the bombardment.”
Danica nodded. “The Hameji probably captured those intact. Their tactics may be brutal, but they know how to be efficient when they need to be.”
“So you think the main fleet is at K-4 right now?”
“It’s the first place I’d look,” said Danica. “The main bulk of the fleet may have moved on, but the Hameji are always customizing and modifying their warships. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re busy retrofitting the civilian craft they recently captured.”
James frowned. “They’re turning civilian ships into battleships?”
“Of course. Why else would the Hameji capture those ships intact? It’s much easier than building them from scratch.”
“Right,” said James, trying not to imagine the Llewellyn remade into a gunboat. “So you’re saying we need some kind of a pretext to fly to Kardunash IV?”
“Exactly,” said Danica. “What do you suggest?”
James brought his hand to his chin. “There are a handful of colonies orbiting K-4. We could pose as their suppliers.”
Danica narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? If those colonies weren’t self-sustaining, the inhabitants are going to all be dead or starving by now. News of a resupply ship could generate a lot of unwanted attention.”
“You’re right,” said James. He stared at the holographic map hovering in the air in front of him. An idea came to his mind, and his eyes lit up.
“We could pose as a freighter heading towards K-3 from the outer planets,” he said, rising to his feet. “See how K-4 and K-3 are in opposition across the sun? When that happens, it’s standard procedure for inbound ships to stop and resupply at K-4 before slingshotting around Karduna Prime.”
“Good thinking,” said Danica. “If you can fabricate a cargo manifest and flight plan, Ilya can make it look as if the Catriona never left the system.”
“Right!” said James. Everything was finally falling into place. This could work—no, it would work.
“We’ll jump about three week’s distance from K-4, to avoid arousing any possible suspicion,” said Danica, her voice as calm as ever. “Assuming we find the Hameji fleet at K-4, what sort of a time window will we have?”
“I don’t know,” said James. “Most ships stay for one or two days to resupply.”
“Good,” said Danica. “That should be enough time to gather the intelligence we need.”
“Excellent! Then what?”
“It depends on what we find,” said Danica, “and there’s a good chance we won’t find anything.”
But we will, James thought to himself. We will.
* * * * *
“You told him what?”
Stella bit her lip and stared at the blue tile floor of the bathing room as Narju brushed her hair. Tamu sat on a stool across from her, an incredulous expression on her face.
“I told him I was a virgin,” Stella said softly.
Tamu shook her head. “Bad move, honey,” she said, clucking her tongue. “That wasn’t smart.”
“But what was I supposed to do?” Stella asked. “He was going to rape me!”
“Whether or not it’s rape is up to you, dear.”
Stella’s eyes widened in shock at Tamu’s comment, and her cheeks burned red with anger. “Oh, really?” she said, her voice low and sharp. “Then I suppose it isn’t murder if—”
“Calm down, dear, calm down. No need to shout.”
Stella took a deep breath and closed her eyes, resisting the urge to scream. Behind her, Narju finished with her hair and rose to his feet, pulling the small stool aside with a wooden scraping noise.
“Why don’t you start from the beginning,” said Tamu. “Tell me everything.”
Stella took a moment to calm down and gather her jumbled thoughts. Off to the side, Narju opened a locker and began pulling out different clothes, laying them across the cushioned bench for Stella to peruse.
“I followed Engus to the bedchamber,” she said, rising to her feet with the bath towel wrapped tightly around her body. Tamu followed her. “Qasar was waiting for me on the bed. He came over to me, and we talked for a while—”
“You can understand him?” Tamu asked. “You mean, you actually spoke with him?”
“Well, yeah,” said Stella. “Can’t you?”
“No, sweetie. I’ve picked up a little here and there, but not enough to carry much of a conversation.”
“Then how do you even communicate with him?”
Tamu laughed. “Oh, we don’t talk much, dear. When he calls for me, he’s only looking for one thing, and it certainly isn’t conversation.” She winked and nudged Stella with her elbow.
Stella shuddered. For several moments, she didn’t know what to say.
“Don’t stop there, honey,” said Tamu. “Go on, go on.”
“Well, uh, he asked me if I was hungry. I said yes, and he pulled out a tray full of roasted meat. We ate until we were full, and then, ah—”
“And then what?” Tamu asked, hanging on Stella’s every word.
“He, uh, that is, we—we started to…” Stella’s cheeks flushed deep red from embarrassment as her voice trailed off. Tamu’s eyes glistened while Narju waited patiently for Stella to pick out her dress.
“It all happened so fast,” Stella said quickly. “He started to undress me, and then his hands were all over my body, and I just couldn’t take it.”
She picked out a modest skirt and blouse. Narju wordlessly replaced the other clothes in the locker. While his back was turned, Stella unwrapped the bath towel from her body and quickly slipped into her chemise.
“So you resisted,” said Tamu. “That’s when he slapped you, isn’t it, dear?”
Punched me, Stella thought as she stepped into the skirt. He punched me.
“Yes,” she said, pulling the skirt up around her waist. “He said I didn’t have a choice in the matter. That’s when I told him I was a virgin.”
“And what happened next?”
Stella slipped the blouse over her head and poked her arms through, pulling it down over her stomach. “He stopped,” she said. “For the rest of the evening, he was a perfect gentleman.”
Tamu frowned. “Is that all, dear?”
“Well, no,” Stella admitted.
“Out with it.”
Stella swallowed. “He asked me about my home,” she said, “and when I told him I wasn’t planetborn, he—”
“Aiie!” screamed Tamu, her voice filling the small room. Stella and Narju both jumped at the sudden outburst. “You told him what?”
“I told him about my home,” Stella said. “That I was born on a space station and was training to be an astrogator. He made a big deal about the fact that I wasn’t ‘planetborn,’ but—”
“He didn’t just make a big deal honey,” Tamu said. “Out here, it really is a big deal.”
“Why?”
“Because the Hameji think that the planetborn are soft and weak. That’s why they choose all their concubines from their prisoners, honey—because they don’t think we have any honor.”