Tales From the Terran Republic

Jessica made an amused little snort as Doctor Ayyangar’s image disappeared and shook her head.

She found the mustache-twirling tiresome but sometimes people needed a monster. In this particular case, the doctor needed someone to be a bigger monster than he was. She had learned long ago that as long as he was cursing her name he wouldn’t curse his own quite as much.

The greatest scientific mind in centuries and you’re making him create nightmares… Weren’t you supposed to “preserve” him? Wasn’t that the plan?

Yes, the good doctor was one of “her people”, one of those carefully selected to rebuild Sol, he was first among the scientists and academics that she cherry-picked and tucked ever so gently into one of her “special” habitation ships.

She winced as she thought of the Gardenhome. Even after all these years the tragic loss of that ship stung. So many great minds just… gone…

She, without thinking, pulled open the upper left hand drawer of her office-desk, unconsciously reaching for the “supplies” that normally occupied that place of honor.

“Tsk...” she muttered as she looked down at the empty spot where a flask and a small crystal box of white powder used to reside.

There was no easy fix today, no quick distraction…

Their faces and names floated past. Gifted scientists, scholars, artists… people who can never be replaced. People like to say that all lives are of equal value but that’s bullshit. Some people are a dime-a-dozen and others…

Six hundred of those lives were lost that day… Six hundred of the brightest lights the human race had just went poof…

And Doctor Ayyangar was among them… He just wasn’t given the mercy of death. No, he got to live…

She still remembered the day he brought her The Foot, his eyes glazed, his face twisted with hate and pain… His innocence gone...

Goddammit… She had promised him… She had promised him that his family would be safe… She had promised all of them...

God, she wanted a fucking drink… Just to a sip… Just to take the edge off…

The fate of the entire Porkie race rests in the hands of a coked-out alcoholic… Just wonderful...

She needed a break. Outside her bunker wasn’t exactly a garden, but the woods were lovely and there was a pond nearby with some absolutely lovely specimens of native flora.

It wouldn’t be that much longer before there would be nothing outside but the fucking void. She should go look at the weird little jelly plants.

She threw on her jacket and strode for the door.

***

Just outside of the city of Pol-Gelkrn on Zaran-7 a crowd started to gather around a wide field.

In the middle of the field was a single egg and a small camera.

Soon, a distant rumbling could be heard and the crowd pulled out their phones.

The rumbling grew in intensity, as something came into view high above.

The rumbling turned into roaring as the object drew closer growing ever larger with each passing moment.

The crowd started to cheer as the ground beneath them started to shake as a huge spaceship came screaming down, it’s shields glowing from the heat of re-entry. ṛＡ₦ồВÈṤ

At the helm, Gwen Shay grinned as the picture of the egg appeared on one of her screens. The grin was soon replaced with a blissful smile as her entire universe shrank to the size of that field.

Watching half a dozen screens at once, she switched to manual control.

“One-hundred meters...” the girl who usually manned the helm announced. “…Fifty meters… “

Gwen’s universe shrank down to the size of an egg.

“… Twenty meters...”

Her hands turning into blurs, Gwen made dozens of adjustments almost at once.

“Ten meters… ”

The crowd was blasted by nearly gale-force winds as Gwen fired all the lateral thrusters simultaneously and sloooowly eased down on the deflector screen.

“Shields loaded at fifty percent….”

“Sixty percent…”

The landing spurs of the vessel started to slowly dig into the ground below as Gwen started to reduce power to the lower deflector array.

A grinding vibration could be felt throughout the massive vessel as it pressed itself into the soil.

The image of the egg became shrouded in darkness…

The camera’s light switched on.

The egg was intact…

And the crowd went wild.

Gwen let out a shuddering sigh…

Oh yeah…

***

As the main cargo hatch lowered Gwen stepped out and waved cheerfully at the cheering crowd.

“Wooooooo!” she yelled, grinning from ear to ear. “Wooooooooo!… You about some crazy fuckers!” she added when she noticed exactly how close some of the spectators were standing.

A line of vehicles started to roll into the cargo bay, all of them bearing Black Angels markings. They parked in a precise manner and the occupants all lept out and rapidly started to break down the rigging holding all of the parcels in place.

Experienced smugglers don’t waste any time. In moments the vehicles were being loaded and were soon pulling out at high speed only to be replaced seconds later.

A wicked looking woman in her late forties, armed with a megaphone and a stopwatch, approached.

“Goddamn,” she said shaking her head. “Just… Goddamn...”

Gwen just grinned at her.

“Where the fuck where they hiding you?”

“In motherfucking high school,” Gwen said rolling her eyes. “I had to ‘prepare for my future’.” she added in a sneering voice.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I wish!”

“You can slam a Class Sixteen on the lawn in less than an hour already! What sort of ‘future’ is better than that?”

“According to my mom? Anything,” Gwen laughed. “They didn’t want me on spaceships.”

“Why?!? You’re...”

“Oh because of the ‘accident’...” Gwen said rolling her eyes. “Mom totally lost her shit and made me go to dirt school after that.”

“Accident?”

“Oh yeah,” Gwen said nonchalantly, “When I was nine I-”

“Holy shit!” the gangster gasped. “That was you?!? I heard that it happened to a kid but I had no idea it happened to a Shay!”

“Gram-gram wanted to keep it quiet,” Gwen replied. “This never happened!” she growled in a perfect recreation of her great-grandmother’s angry voice. “No idea why. It’s not like it was a big deal...”

The gangster looked at her dubiously. It was in fact a big deal. It was a really fucking big deal. Holy fucking shit!

If half of what she had heard was true… Jesus Christ!

“So, you’re ok?”

“I’m more than ok!” Gwen said happily as she spun around. “I’m finally free of this fucking gravity well! Escape velocity, baby! Wooooooo!”

“Oooookayyy then...” the gangster said as evenly as she could. For just a second there was something in Gwen’s eyes, something definitely not right.

It took a lot to rattle Kareen. She had been rolling with the Angels for most of her life and had seen and done some shit, but that little flash in Gwen’s eyes chilled her to the bone.

“Well… I just wanted to say hi and congratulate you on your pilotin’,” Kareen said as nonchalantly as she could. “I gotta go and get this cargo moved.”

“Nice meeting you!” Gwen enthused as she extended her hand. “Looking forward to working with you out there!”

Kareen tried not to flinch as she shook her hand. She really didn’t buy into a lot of that spacer’s nonsense but there were some things that you just did not fuck with!

That kid should have been tossed out of an airlock. If it had been any other kid she would have!

“Yeah, I’ll be looking for ya,” Kareen replied with as pleasant of a smile as she could manage.

***

Back on Raylesh, Jessica started making he way back to the buried ship she was using as her base.

As she was walking down the path something moved overhead.

Reaching for her sidearm she glanced upward and just smiled and shook her head.

A garish bright purple luxury grav-car with LED light bars and airbrushed furries in suggestive poses on the sides and hood landed.

The door popped open and a thin old man, dressed in a crushed velvet leisure suit complete with satin shirt and big gold medallion and jeweled sunglasses hopped out.

“Oneeeeeeeee Chaaaaannnnn!” he yelled as he saw her.

She laughed despite herself.

“Gordon!” she called back with a big smile. “You do realize that this is a top-secret facility… and that we are at war, right?”

“Of course!” Gordon Johnson, founder of Johnson’s spirits replied as he gestured at his leopard print leisure suit. “See? Cammo!”

“Jesus Christ…” Jessica laughed. “Get your ass inside before I have you shot.”

***

As Gordon and Jessica entered her office Gordon turned to confront her.

“I’ve tolerated and overlooked so many things, Jessica,” he said in a stern voice. “I really have, telling myself it was all for the greater good... But you’ve gone too far this time!… You stopped drinking?!?”

“And what’s this I’m hearing about you, Gordon? Quality products? Have you gone mad?” Jessica laughed as they hugged.

“People are going to need something to wash down the days ahead,” Gordon smiled, “and too many of the damn kids these days can’t appreciate good hooch.”

“Well promise me you will keep making the Green,” Jessica chuckled. “If I fall off of the wagon I want to be appropriately punished.”

“I’m keeping the whole product line!” Gordon exclaimed proudly. “I still have the Rumrunner!”

“That old tub actually still flies? I thought you turned it into a restaurant.”

“A restaurant and distillery!” Gordon replied proudly. “I was going to decommission it but in the end I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. All I had to do was rip out the tables! Even the ‘kitchen’ is original! The Rumrunner will be lifting off today! I just dropped by take one last peek at that fine ass of yours before I headed out.”

Jessica gave him a little wiggle as Gordon gasped and clutched at his heart.

“Damn, girl! Don’t be doing that to an old man!”

“If only it was that easy to get rid of you,” she laughed. “So, you have the Rumrunner. How is the rest of your operation looking?”

“Good. We are ripping-up what we can and loading those ships you sent down with anything that we can shove into them. It’s a mess but my guys should have production lines running within days. The Rumrunner will be at full capacity tonight so we can give you limited quantities of whatever you need from lubricants to paint to plastic explosives… and of course the highest quality ‘solvents’ in the galaxy!”

“You are a freak but damned if you aren’t an amazing one!” Jessica laughed.

“Speaking of amazing,” Gordon grinned as he pulled out clear plastic bag filled with appeared to be a wad of soap. “Three thousand calories of shelf-stable nutritionally complete goodness!”

“Well that didn’t take you long!”

“It’s not like I was working from zero,” Gordon replied. “It’s just a riff on Jovian Rice.”

“And it doesn’t taste like shit!” Jessica said happily as she sampled it. “You are going to absolutely ruin your reputation, Gordon! How’s the price point?”

“Not good,” Gordon replied. “The raw material costs are much higher in the Federation on a good day and getting a reliable source at a high enough volume is going to be a constant challenge. It’s gonna be cheaper to just buy regular food but this stuff will keep forever and is nice and compact.”

“Real food is better for morale, too,” Jessica replied. “I still want to build stocks of this, though. I think we all know more food is better than less.”

“You don’t have to remind me!” Gordon laughed.

“If only we had a gas-miner...” Jessica mused.

Gordon grinned at her.

“What?”

“Funny you should mention that...”

“Are. You. Shitting. Me?!?”

“Remember Aimee?”

“Your traitorous ex-girlfriend Aimee? The Aimee who tried to kill you?” Jessica asked darkly, her enthusiasm gone.

“That would be the one!”

“Please tell me that you haven’t-”

“Well, we’ve sorta kept in touch and-”

“Kept in touch?” Jessica asked raising her eyebrow.

Gordon grinned sheepishly.

“Goddammit...” Jessica groaned, “Seriously?!?”

“Well they say time heals all wounds...”

“Including ones made by a knife it seems,” Jessica replied as she rolled her eyes. “… moron...”

“Well, as it turns out after the dust settled she wound up going back into chemical engineering and set herself up-”

“With the shit she stole from us!” Jessica interjected. “If she wasn’t so fucking slippery I would have killed her a long time ago!”

“Well be glad you didn’t!” Gordon exclaimed happily. “She has herself a gas miner! She runs a little wildcat outfit specializing in custom organic compounds and does first-rate chemical synthesis to boot!”

“And?” Jessica asked dubiously.

“And she wants to come home!” Gordon exclaimed. “A fucking hyperspace capable gas miner, Jessica!”

“And she wants to join us? Now?”

“She has a lot of family over here, Jessica,” Gordon replied. “She wants to help.”

“And?” Jessica asked suspiciously.

“And with everything going on over there, she has concerns. Terran nationalism has been on the rise and now with Patricia and her cronies making a play for the Republic...”

“There it is,” Jessica hissed. “There it fucking is! Aimee concerned about her ‘family’? Nah. Aimee seeing the writing on the wall and wanting to switch sides, exactly like she did on us back in the day? Now that’s Aimee.”

“Yes, but gas-miner!”

“She tried to kill you... twice!”

“Gas-miner!”

“She framed you for the chemical weapons that she produced! You know, the ones you absolutely refused to make? You had to hide in a supply locker for six months! Do you remember?”

“Gas… miner!”

“But-”

Gordon leaned in and whispered, “gasminer!”

“Absolutely not! If you want to stick your dick in that particular puddle of crazy you are just going to have to run the Republic blockade.”

“Do you have any idea how many mega-tons of organics and fuel she can produce?”

“I’m sure it won’t be for free,” Jessica grumbled.

“She’s willing to provide raw materials at a very reasonable rate!”

“Goddammit, Gordon! Tell me you didn’t enter into negotiations without consulting me!”

“I got her to agree to forty-two percent of Federation market rate!”

“Which is how many times more than she gets in the Republic?”

“Look, do you want that fuel and those organics or not? I’ve reviewed her production records… Holy shit, Jessica!” Gordon exclaimed as he pulled out his phone and offered it to her. “We can feed everyone!”

“Goddamn it...” Jessica muttered and looked at the spreadsheet.

Her eyes widened.

“(sigh)… What’s her number?”

“Yes!” Gordon exclaimed.

“What is it with you and manipulative narcissists?” she grumbled.

Gordon looked her up and down with an exaggerated lascivious leer.

“What can I say? I have a type!”

Jessica just laughed and shook her head.

“Asshole...”, she chuckled. “IF I do this, she’s off limits! I fucking mean it!”

“Aww..”

“The LAST thing I need is her getting her hooks into you again. You get within a light year of her and the deal’s off… But… I think you won’t mind...” she purred as she started to unbutton his satin shirt.

***

Terrence walked towards Jessica’s office with a fresh pot of tea. He was more than a little concerned. Jessica was really struggling with her sobriety and Gordon Johnson wasn’t exactly a paragon of temperance.

He raised his hand to knock.

“Oh!… Onee Chan!...”

His hand froze.

“Are… Are those ‘My Happy Pony’ panties?!?” Jessica’s annoyed voice said as it leaked through the door, “Take them off right now!”

“(Giggle)… Yes, Onee Chan...”

Terrence just shook his head and walked away.

At least she wasn’t drinking...

***

Gwen looked over at the three somewhat disheveled looking teenaged boys standing in front of her and sighed.

It was finally time to say goodbye to her beloved little nerds. In the end, only Susan decided to stay with them.

“Are you sure you want to leave?” Gwen asked. “Things are about to get good!”

“N-no… Yes! I mean Yes!” Johnny squeaked.

“You are walking away from a shit-ton of money, guys! You really want to go home, back to school, and all that shit? You can be free, rich and free!”

“T-thank you but I would like to go home, please,” Johnny replied as the other two teens nodded vigorously.

“Well, I can’t stop ya,” Gwen said with a smile. “Actually, I can… but I won’t. I’m cool like that!”

“T-thank you!”

“Are you surrrre?” Gwen asked. “One of my friends thinks you’re cute!”

Johnny was NOT falling for that one again!

“That’s… that’s ok... We just want to go home, please, ma’am...”

“Ok… That’s cool… go be nerds…. Shoo!” Gwen said with a wave of her hand.

The three teens sprinted out of the ship.

She turned to Marcia, her helmsperson.

“At least we kept Susie!” Gwen said brightly.

“You just let them go? Don’t we need them?”

“Nah, we’ll get some crew from the Angels,” Gwen replied. “I’ll just give Gram a call and… Speak of the Devil!” Gwen exclaimed happily as an electric motorcycle drove into the ship.

Shay the Elder got off and walked up.

“Gram-Gram!” Gwen exclaimed, running up to give the old fiend a hug.

“Hey baby-doll,” Shay the Elder smiled returning the hug.

Gwen slowly stopped smiling as she looked at her great-grandmother’s face. “…what?”

“Got a minute, kid?”

***

“She wants to talk to me?” Gwen asked in shock once they were alone.

“Yeah,” Shay the Elder replied darkly. “She does.”

“Why?”

“She wants something. She wouldn’t tell me what.”

“Awesome!!!”

“No, baby-doll, it’s the opposite of awesome,” her great-grandmother replied. “Look, you gotta listen all respectful-like, but you DON’T gotta do whatever she says. She can’t just order you around like some nobody! You’re a fucking Shay!”

“But what could she possibly want?”

“I dunno and that’s what bugs me, baby-doll. Look,” the old woman said, clearly worried, “if she wants a word with you I can’t stop it and you gotta listen but whatever, and I mean whatever she says, whatever she promises, just say no. If you say no she can’t touch you. You say no and you are protected by Angels but if you make a deal with The Devil you stand alone.”

“I’m not an idiot, Gram-gram,” Gwen replied.

“This isn’t some scrub trying to sweet talk his way into your panties! This is the motherfucking Devil herself! You be all polite and use those pretty words you got but whatever you do, do NOT say yes to her!”

“Got it!” Gwen replied. “Be polite and say no.”

“I’m fucking serious kid,” the old fiend said urgently. “I’ve seen it over and over and fucking over again. I don’t care how big and shiny that apple is. It’s fucking POISON! You do not want to make a deal with her! As bad as people think I am, she’s worse! Never forget that!”

Gwen looked at her great-grandmother in shock. She was afraid! Her great-grandmother, leader of the fucking Black Angels herself, one of the true nightmares of the Sol Wars, was scared.

“O-ok, Gram,” Gwen replied nervously.

“I’ll be right outside the whole time,” Shay the Elder said as they walked to the captain’s office. “If you feel yourself starting to give or slip just yell or somethin’ and I’ll barge in there and… and I don’t know… do something!”

“Yes, Gram-gram,” Gwen replied as she opened the office door and walked inside.

She paused at a mirror and made sure she looked ok.

Then she took a deep breath and sat behind her desk.

After saying a quiet prayer to the Gods of the Void, she switched on her communicator.

***

After a disturbingly short wait, Jessica Morgan’s pleasantly smiling face appeared on her holo-screen.

“I swear it’s like looking back in time!” Jessica exclaimed. “You look just like your great-grandmother did at your age!”

“Um… thanks?”

“I’m sure you have things to do and I know for a fact that I do so I will just cut to the chase,” Jessica said with a smile. “I assume it has been strongly suggested that you refuse regardless of what I say?”

Gwen shifted nervously. She wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“It’s ok,” Jessica said, “I know your great-grandmother quite well and I am perfectly aware of her opinion of me… She’s absolutely correct, by the way.”

Gwen just smiled anxiously and remained silent. She wanted to say… something… but everything she could come up with either sounded absolutely moronic or would just dig her deeper in the hole she realized she was already in.

Jessica smiled as she let the silence build.

“I thought you would be more exuberant,” Jessica said an eternity later. “You certainly were when you were talking to that radio person.”

Yeah, that’s because ‘Lissa doesn’t have a fucking brass bull!… And that’s the least of my worries!

“Wooo?” Gwen replied cautiously.

Jessica burst into laughter.

“Well played!” she exclaimed with delight. “I’ll cease wasting either our our time with any further attempts to disarm you and get right down to business.”

Jessica leaned forward slightly.

“I want you to come to work for me.”

“W-what?!?” Gwen spluttered, her eyes wide.

“Ships, I have. Equipment I can buy. I have the resources to get whatever I want and as much of it as I desire, except for one thing...” Jessica said, her eyes glittering, “talent! I can never get enough! It’s the one thing I crave more than almost anything and you, Ms. Shay, have a gift.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Gwen said nervously.

“I would,” Jessica replied. “Your last landing? From orbit to surface, in a Class Sixteen, in less than one hour, on top of an unbroken egg? That’s astounding from anyone, no matter how long they have been flying. From someone of your age, your experience, it’s phenomenal.”

“I… I’ve been doing this for years!” Gwen replied defensively. “I grew up on a ship and-”

“Until they made you stop,” Jessica said, cutting her off, “something that I would not have done, by the way, but we will get to that later.”

Gwen flinched. She knew!

“Here’s the deal,” Jessica continued. “I need people who can quickly, and much more importantly safely, get large vessels onto and off of planetary surfaces and I need them now. There are thousands, hundreds of thousands, of our fellow human beings trapped on dozens of worlds. Those are our people, my people, and I’m not going to abandon them to the fucking Feds. Shuttles aren’t going to cut it! I don’t need to move people by the dozens, I need to move them by the thousands! No spaceports, open-dirt landings. Not everyone can do that. You can. I need that. I need you.”

“But I’m with the Angels and-”

“Oh I wouldn’t dream of making you forgo your alliance,” Jessica said with a smile. “While I would love to bring you fully into my organization I am not asking you to make a choice. I just want use of skills… temporarily. Do these people moving runs for me, and once we have everyone that we can evacuated, I have absolutely no problem with you returning to the Angels… if that’s what you truly want.”

“Ok, that sounds reasonable enough,” Gwen said suspiciously. “What’s the catch?”

“The catch?” Jessica asked innocently. “Why ever would you think-” She broke off into a chuckle. “Yes, there is always a catch isn’t there. I’m not asking you to pilot a cruise ship. These recovery missions are likely going to be through hostile Federation space and the systems aren’t always going to be happy to see us, and by us I mean you. I’m asking you to do something quite dangerous. There is no guarantee you will survive.”

There’s no guarantee I’ll survive now. Gwen thought to herself. I’m rolling with the Angels for fuck’s sake.

“Of course you will be well rewarded for the risk,” Jessica continued.

“Rewarded?”

“Yes, very well rewarded,” Jessica replied. “You have done quite well in obtaining a Federation Class Sixteen. It’s a lovely ship, but entirely unsuitable for my purposes. While its operational capabilities are sub-par the real problem with it is that its a Federation vessel, a clearly pirated one. You can’t be going about representing me in a pirated ship. It will further complicate a very complicated situation and we can’t claim that you are ‘peaceful’ when you are demonstrably already a pirate. I will trade vessels with you. That Class Sixteen can serve me perfectly well in an auxiliary capacity and for it I will give you… this.”

Gwen gasped as a picture of a Krenk-Halyx appeared on the screen. It was number seven on her list of dream ships!

“I see you recognize it,” Jessica smiled. “a Krenk-Halyx medium cargo ship with a completely clean title. It’s yours if you come to work with me.”

Gwen’s mind swam. Big engines, huge hyperdrive, advanced navcomp…

and something else… something much more important...

Jessica smiled as her eye-tracking software indicated exactly where Gwen was staring. She had her.

“I have the papers right here,” Jessica said with a pleasant smile. “Your Class Sixteen will serve me quite well in an auxiliary capacity and with this you will be able to go anywhere, do anything… once your obligation is complete, of course. You will own the ship from day one and soon as you qualify, you will be its captain.”

“Qualify?” Gwen asked suspiciously.

“Yes, qualify,” Jessica replied. “I’ll happily gamble the ship on your unproven abilities but not the crew. Ships I can buy but crew? Good crew has always been valuable but now they are priceless! I can’t ‘give’ you a crew and, no offense, I’m not letting one of my vessels be crewed with a Black Angels cadre. One atrocity and it’s my name, not hers, that is stained. So, unless you have quite a few more members on your cheer squad I’m going to have to assign my people, at least temporarily. Don’t worry. Everyone will understand that having you qualify is second only to the mission. I have every confidence that you will rise to the occasion.”

Gwen unconsciously started to play with her hair. “Qualifying” could take years.

“On the bright side,” Jessica continued, “your training and subsequent qualifications would be through Morgan Shipping, a member of the Galactic Merchantman’s Association and thus will be honored throughout all of known space. Real training. Real certifications. You wouldn’t be limited to just the Black Angels. You could go anywhere, once our current little situation is resolved, of course. It’s a small inconvenience for one hell of a reward. When this is all over your licenses will be valid. And you will still own the vessel from day one!”

Which means exactly squat, Gwen thought. The crew will follow the captain, not the owner. The only thing the owner can do is hire and fire which means absolutely nothing.

“I… I appreciate this… I really do...” Gwen replied nervously.

“But?” Jessica asked calmly as she felt the hook slip from Gwen’s mouth.

“But I already have a ship, not as good… God… nowhere as good but it’s mine… And I’m already a captain and I can get a crew, a good crew, that will follow me and as far as those certifications go, I can get them on my own… I… I’m sorry but I have to say no… ma’am.”

Jessica kept her expression pleasant and even but inside she was scowling. She wanted this little morsel.

How about the actual truth for once? Now there was an interesting thought…

“Don’t want to give up your freedom?” Jessica purred, “makes sense. Nobody, at any age, would be eager to give up command. But I have one question I want you to ask yourself...”

Gwen shifted uncomfortably under Jessica’s predatory gaze.

“… do you honestly think it’s going to be that easy?” Jessica asked.

“What?”

“If you take it, it’s yours,” Jessica replied. “That’s one of our major tenets. Privately, I despise it. I had hoped for so much more than a society of pirates, murders, and thieves. I really did, but, whether I like it or not, that is one of the core tenets of our wonderful society. You took that Class Sixteen so it’s yours... Congratulations,” Jessica added sarcastically.

“Yeah, it is mine!” Gwen said defiantly, taking real offense. “And I’m going to be a GREAT captain!”

“Of that I don’t have a single doubt,” Jessica replied. “The ‘qualifications’ are for my men, not me. Think about it. I can’t put a Black Angel, especially a sixteen year old one, in front of them and tell them that she’s their captain. Owner they will accept. Captain? That won’t fly.”

“And that’s why I’m saying no!” Gwen replied.

Jessica smiled. Now she had the girl engaged. Now there was something to grab on to.

“And you think it’s going to be any easier with the Black Angels? If you honestly do then this conversation is over. I don’t have time to waste with idiots.”

“What do you mean?” Gwen demanded with far more confidence than she felt. “I’m a fucking Shay!”

“How do you think it’s really going to go when you get a real crew, huh? Think about it. Your ship, filled with their people.”

“They are my people!”

“No, they aren’t,” Jessica replied. “not really. They stopped being ‘your people’ the second the accident happened and you know it.”

“That’s bullshit! They-”

“Will be watching you every single second of every single day you are with them,” Jessica said calmly. “They will never trust you and can you blame them? They use what happened to you as their ultimate punishment. It terrifies them as well it should. Nobody escapes what happened to you unscathed… unaltered… nobody.”

“What are you talking about! I’m just fine! I’m-”

“How long can you hold out, hmm? Are you even going to try, or are you, even now, just dying for the chance to do it again?”

Gwen looked away.

“I knew it, addicted,” Jessica said with a smile. “I understand addiction very well. Mine are tame, embarrassingly boring compared to yours, but the same principles apply. Once certain things get under your skin they are there for life. You can deny them, your vices, but you can never truly be free, can you? Part of you is always thinking about it, always yearning for what you can’t have. Isn’t that true?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about...” Gwen said weakly.

“Darling, I’m addicted to alcohol, cocaine, and a pile of designer drugs. I shook the pills long ago but a day doesn’t go by without me thinking about them at least once. The booze and the coke? I only quit those when I reassumed command and it hurts every single day. I know an addict when I see them because I am one and you, Ms. Shay are an addict. I know it but even more importantly your great-grandmother does. She will be watching and you can bet that there will be someone on ‘your’ crew that will be fully capable of taking command the second you fuck up. You might be able to get one hit, maybe and then… right back to the dirt you go and there will be no escape a second time.”

“Nobody is going to take my ship! I’ll-”

“Fight them all?” Jessica asked with chuckle. “A captain only leads with the permission of their crew. If they lose their confidence in you, that’s it. The same holds true for your great-grandmother or even myself, by the way. We are, in a way, just as subservient as those who we lead. Nobody gets to do what they really want, trust me,” she said ruefully. “If your crew wants you out then you are out, especially in an outfit like the Black Angels. In the Angels it wouldn’t even be mutiny. You can be formally challenged for your command. You might be a bad-ass but what chance do you have against one of your Gram-Gram’s real thugs, especially the one she will send for you? You won’t even have the honor of being killed. You will be given a spanking and sent to your room and that will be that.”

“Fuck you!” Gwen snarled.

“Feel free to terminate this call if you think I’m wrong,” Jessica smiled. “Of course if you do then you won’t get to hear the real reason why I want you. Do you honestly think I don’t already have skilled pilots? I’m Jessica fucking Morgan! My special projects cadre are the best money can buy. I have people who are what you will be in twenty years! Me having a dire need for your piloting skill? That was bullshit. That’s just how I was going to draw you in.”

“I thought you were supposed to never lie,” Gwen replied, intrigued despite herself. She should just hang up. She knew it. Just hang up! She said you could!

“You can bullshit without lying,” Jessica chuckled. “I implied that the talent of yours that I craved was your piloting skill. Oh your skill is astonishing, make no mistake. Your little egg video is making the rounds and I have captains in my special projects division just begging me to poach you. Some of the best crews in the fucking galaxy want you, Gwen. More than one ‘captain’ would happily throw it all away for the chance to be on one of these ships and several of them already want you! Impressive, truly impressive, but that’s not the talent of yours that I want. That’s not why I want you.”

Just hang up and run away!

“Why… Why do you want me then?” Gwen asked knowing it was a trap.

“The accident.”

“What?!?”

“You heard me,” Jessica smiled. “I want you not despite the accident but because of it.”

“Why?!?”

“I’m not going to tell you,” Jessica grinned. “I will, however, say this. I don’t have to tell you about the wonderful observation decks that the Krenk-Halyx possesses. The one that I offer you will have one tiny little modification. The aft solar garden will be converted into your personal quarters with it’s own shutter control and shields. You won’t have to sneak. You won’t have to hide. You will be able to get your fix whenever you want. Gaze into the hyperspatial void to your heart’s content! Bathe in it every single jump.”

“Wha… I… I don’t… What?” Gwen babbled, completely stunned.

“You have absolutely no idea how special you are, Gwen, but I do,” Jessica purred. “For almost every single human being, direct exposure to hyperspace is lethal, worse than lethal. What it does to the body and to the mind… well… There’s a reason that the vilest of the vile use it as torture. But, for one nine year old girl, it wasn’t torture. It was amazing, wasn’t it?”

Gwen just nodded, tears welling up in her eyes.

“You aren’t the first.”

“What?” Gwen spluttered.

“Nope,” Jessica smiled. “You aren’t alone. You are incredibly rare, perhaps one in hundreds of millions, too rare to actually quantify, but you are NOT unique. There are others.”

“Who?!?” Gwen gasped.

“Not telling you,” Jessica grinned. “Not yet… There is only one way to find out...”

***

Shay the Elder stalked up and down the hall getting angrier and more worried by the second.

It had been too long. It had been far too long.

She should barge in there, tell that witch to go and fuck herself!

She strode to the door and froze. It was fucking Jessica Morgan. There wasn’t much that scared Old Gwen but that woman…

But it was her baby-doll! No! She had given that monster enough! She wasn’t going to get-

The door opened and her precious little girl stepped out.

Oh no!

“I’m… I’m sorry Gram-Gram...” Gwen said with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry...”

“It’s ok,” the old woman sighed as she wrapped her arms around her. “She always wins… Always...”

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