Season Five [Part One]

- 1 -

Stephanie took her time. The bar had been in sight for quite a while, but she wasn't looking towards it. She enjoyed solitude of quiet walks, and savoured the moment, there had been few like it for almost two years now. The Imperium put Naval inductees under harsher scrutiny than the Federation would have. Stephanie wondered if that scrutiny was just for turncoats like her. She quickly tried to dismiss the useless thought.

Before she could stop herself Stephanie's mind was back there again. Three years before, wearing other colours, barely scraping herself from the burning wreckage she'd wrought. They had wrought the fires. She corrected herself quickly, but was as unable as ever to be convinced. Stephanie's quiet entrapment behind her own eyes was interrupted when she stepped under the awning of the bar, she hadn't noticed him until he spoke.

“There you are Steph. I was worried you weren't going to show.”  A tall man leaning against the fascia of the building and smoking a cigarette, addressed her.

Stephanie looked at him, Cael Theo smiled back. Stephanie was struck with the same sudden feeling of safety Cael had offered her three years previously, when he had found her escape pod.

“Mister Theo, I wouldn't avoid this occasion. It's tradition.” Stephanie DuHart summoned her command voice and replied.

Cael grinned and flicked the remainder of his cigarette away. Then he held the door for his newly minted commanding officer.

Inside the bar, the pair of them joined a table packed with the rest of their class from the academy. DuHart hadn't been the only one of them to receive a command, Theo hadn't been the only one to share a deployment with a classmate. But Stephanie had received a special assignment, it's uniqueness a perfect match to her own.

The class had converged on that bar, on that night, to celebrate. Stephanie had been gifted the coveted command of a Capital Ship. Vicariously, this made the whole class special. In keeping with the most honoured traditions of the Imperial Naval Academy: her classmates intended to purchase alcohol for her until she couldn't stand, then send her to a hotel with the most expensive concubine they could pool their credits to afford. She wasn't looking forward to it.

No-one knew of her discussion with Admiral Phelix Livius. He had told her plainly that, providing she succeeded at the Academy, she had her choice. Another Cutter to call her own and jurisdiction a few light years from Achenar, or an Interdictor they were about to mint for consular deployment on the spinward fringe of Imperial space.

“You will look good, and make the Navy look good, wherever you go. We are making a show of you, to be honest.” Admiral Livius explained to her amicably.

“I know what you mean, of course, but.” Stephanie cleared her throat. “The phrase “To make a show, of someone” has quite the opposite meaning in English, sir.”

“It does?” He smiled as she nodded in response. “Then I suppose it is for the best, that we are speaking in Latin.”

“Within the Federation, it is greatly exaggerated how difficult it is to learn Lingua-Imperialis.” Stephanie chuckled to herself, that was the least offensive misconception they had.

“You've shocked me.” Phelix admitted suddenly.

“Admiral, you needn't to flatter me, it is only learning a tongue.” DuHart replied.

“You are modest, but your language skills are not what you've done that is so surprising.” Phelix examined Stephanie's crossed arms and confused glare for a moment. “Or, well... I wouldn't assume that the word Interdictor, holds no meaning to you?”

“Of course not, Admiral. Though I have always thought that the vessel's other name, Majestic is more fitting.” Stephanie explained curtly.

“Then you may be to most surprising person I've made such an offer to.” Phelix admitted.

“How so?” DuHart caught herself too late, and pursed her lips for a moment, before thinking to add. “If it is not improper of me, Sir. To be so bold as to ask.”

“Generally, permission to speak freely is requested first. But, here and now, such boldness is acceptable. This meeting did not take place, so to speak.” Phelix smiled jovially as he explained. “I don't think I have ever seen someone poised to be given command status, fail to ravenously attack the opportunity to have a Capital ship. Before today.”

“I...” Stephanie examined the Admiral uneasily for a moment. “I have permission to speak freely, Sir?”

“Yes, Missus DuHart. You do.” He chuckled a little as he told her.

“I wouldn't dare be ungracious, I know this offer would be coveted by most. It is only that I am horribly torn, Sir.” She sighed, he leaned in. “I would likely excel at the scale of police work you've described, as I am sure you know.”

“There is something you've not mentioned, I am sure.” The Admiral smiles a small knowing smile. “Other wise you would not be torn.”

“Well, the prestige of a Capital Ship would be quite...” DuHart trailed off and waved her hand.

“I must say, your file suggests you would be better than that, at lying.” The Admiral shook his head, he wanted to laugh but it would be rude. “If even the thinnest thread of you cared for glory, you would have taken the Interdictor before I'd finished saying the word. What's stopping you?”

“It could be too big.” Stephanie didn't mean the vessel, large though it was. The Admiral understood that the responsibility of commanding such a vessel was the weight she was afraid to bear.

“Then take the Cutter, do the work that you would be best at.” He implored her.

His permission was not enough to speak about how Stephanie felt when it came to setting foot on another of those ships. It wouldn't be the same one, that vessel was held quietly under a false name in a quiet drydock. She had tracked it down and made sure that it's curse would be no-one else's. But Stephanie wouldn't dare set foot on a Cutter, whichever one it may be. She spent more than enough time wandering around the one in her nightmares.

“My file must tell you why I would be so good, at hunting agitators and smugglers?” She said into the air between them.

“Your time with the Federal Navy, as one.” The Admiral admitted in a business-like tone.

“But, does my file say why I came here?” Stephanie implored.

“It mentions heavy Federal losses in a skirmish, questionable command decisions. Few other escape pods were launched, let alone found.” He spoke what he remembered.

“None of that is why.” She closed her eyes to revisit the Cutter as she replied.

“Please, tell me.” Phelix said quietly.

“I fear returning to what I was, far more than I fear the weight of responsibility.” DuHart steeled herself with a deep breath. “What is the Majestic's name?”

“I wouldn't have told you this, if you had taken command of Her the way I expected, but She has yet to be christened.” Admiral Livius said expectantly.

“Are...” Du Hart took a moment to realize to real honour being offered to her. She was rendered speechless.

“You may break from traditional naming, should you desire. I'm sure an English name would also be-” The Admiral would usually have been upset to be cut off.

“Queentia Iactura.” DuHart said with a confidence that didn't last. “I have that correctly, don't I?”

“The INV Opportunity Cost.” The Admiral put on a smile as he attempted the English version. “That has a nice ring to it, I suppose.”

“I would hope the vessel is given it's name in Latin, Sir.” Stephanie said, quietly.

“Oh, of course, what was I thinking.” Admiral Livius' smile widened. “That certainly would give it less of a Federal tone.”

“Yes... It probably would.” Stephanie turned away from him, and clutched her right arm with her left hand.

“Have I, said something amiss?” Phelix noticed her shift in tone, and posture.

“You've...” Their eyes met, Stephanie hesitated but didn't ask for permission to speak again. “You nearly called me a Federal then, but I am overreacting.”

“Oh no, please forgive me.” He looked away for a moment. “I never meant to suggest such a thing.”

“It is fine Admiral. You've done nothing amiss.” Stephanie took a moment to collect herself, and realize that he was waiting on protocol. “You are forgiven.”

“Thank you, Missus DuHart.” He let out a breath, his smile returned. “Your Command of The INV Queentia Iactura will be announced alongside the other posted assignments, I suggest you pretend to be surprised.”

A shot-glass was thrust into her hands, bringing DuHart out of her trance. Stephanie's classmates were taking turns buying her drinks, and growing increasingly impressed with her fortitude. She downed the drink and added the empty to the pile. The Federal Navy had it's own hazing rituals, not dissimilar from these, Stephanie had been told. Another shot punctuated memories of her past, she hadn't experienced what rituals the Federation had. She'd bypassed them, they had bypassed them for her. For a fleeting moment Stephanie was struck by the smiling faces around her, she could be no more foreign to them if she tried, and yet such camaraderie.

“A toast!” DuHart stood up and announced, she feared letting out a tear if she hadn't.

“What to?” Someone near her asked, she was forced to consider this for a moment.

“The dawning a new and brighter chapter, for each of us!” Cael stepped in, holding a new glass out for Stephanie. She had been empty-handed, but Theo was there for her.

She had been surprised, and worried to learn that the Imperium didn't allow Captains to select their own crew. But finding Theo had been given to her as tactical officer, she had no complaints. Stephanie took the glass and shouted out in agreement with them all, and decided that after a few more drinks she might feign difficulty with balance. She wanted to hurry and get the rest of the evening over with, her glass was emptied to punctuate her toast.

“Has another half-liter of beer had much affect on you, Steph?” Cael asked, taking another sip.

“Some yes.” Stephanie took a breath and let the alcohol do what little it could. “More than it looks, I assure you.”

“I've had the bar put three fingers of Indi into each of our drinks.” He admitted, looking down into his half-empty glass.

“I will feel it shortly, no doubt.” Stephanie forced a little laugh as she covered for herself.

“How many more drinks do you think that would take?” He asked quietly.

“One or two.” Stephanie replied, dismissively.

“Which option would you prefer?” Theo asked, even quieter.

“One.” Stephanie answered under her breath.

DuHart's first officer bought the final round. Once it had been drank, She was carried out of the bar and across the street. The hotel was opulent, Stephanie would have felt uncomfortable within it on her own feet. Her classmates deposited her onto the bed and told her in many ways to lie there and wait. The moment their innuendos were over and the door was closed behind them, Stephanie sat up and moved to the edge of the bed.

She wondered what she would say to him, how to let him down. Stephanie was dreading the awkward time she would have to wait out, lest her classmates find her ungrateful. For all too much the same reasons as she couldn't take the Cutter, Stephanie couldn't bare the thought of bedding with another man. Not again.

She sat on the edge of the bed, keeping her breathing steady. Stephanie focused on the horridly high-class drapery, the unnecessarily soft bedding. She blinked away the memories of the shattered hallway, the empty void on the other side of the emergency shielding. It had been three years, but Stephanie found she was still haunted by her last memories of her former first mate.

A fleeting anger found it's way to her, and she clung to it. Who was this payed whore to come here and claim he could save her from her memories of Arrow? How could he dare? Stephanie began to wonder exactly how many credits he had managed to swindle from her classmates. She wondered how her sudden anger could be taken out within the bounds of that contract. But even then, DuHart would only give such an idea the most fleeting of consideration. Her anger was not the fault of any man-whore, no matter how expensive. The credits were not wasted on him, but on herself. She held on to her anger for the remainder of the moment it felt like an escape, before letting it go.

Stephanie would offer the Concubine a drink, make sure he was comfortable, then decline his services. It would be awkward for them both to wait out her allotted time, but it would be done nonetheless. Stephanie could look past his ill-feelings, if she had to.

DuHart closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Shaking her head to dismiss her thoughts, Stephanie took a deep breath. She was alerted suddenly as her sinuses cleared, someone was in the room with her. DuHart took a more careful breath; A young woman, wearing linen. She was brushing or combing her hair. Stephanie concentrated, and could also hear her doing so.

- 2 -

“Who is there?” Stephanie called out, her tone stern.

A girl gasped in shock, a hairbrush clattered to the floor and into view through the door-frame of the washroom. Stephanie's hand recoiled from her holster, and an admonishment was delivered to herself. She had yet to fully acclimatize to the openness of the people of the Imperium, but Stephanie would have admonished herself for being so paranoid before, she was only a girl.

“No, no. Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't meant to startle you.” Stephanie stood up from the bed and took a few steps around it.

“Please Sir, I must apologize. I should have been quieter.” A meek voice sputtered from the washroom.

“No apology is necessary from you, my lady.” DuHart took another step towards the door. “I was foolishly startled, overreacted. 'Tis my blunder, not yours.”

“I have spoiled the entrance, you will be displeased with the experience now.” The girl's reply was very quiet.

“You will be most pleased to hear, I had no intentions of putting you through that tonight, my lady.” With that step, DuHart was nearly within reach of the doorway.

“No no, oh no.” The panic enveloping her voice, drew Stephanie the remaining distance into the washroom.

Stephanie's first thought was shock at her age. The girl looked to be just a teenager, maybe less. DuHart's next thought was of how she could abate the horror in the girl's expression. She was clutching the edge of the sink, shrunk behind it and fighting tears. DuHart stopped in the doorway, lest the girl recoil further. After a tepid moment passed, Stephanie knew what to do.

She knelt down of the floor, straddling the edge of the room. Resting her elbows on the tile, and her head in her hands, Stephanie laid down facing the tearful girl.

“You haven't a thing to fear.” Stephanie explained to her.

“Haven't I?” She eventually managed to reply.

“I must admit, I have only just become one, but you have it on my Honour as a Captain in the Imperial Navy that you are safe.” DuHart vowed.

“You must be new, or lying to me.” The girl spoke as she shrank further behind the fixture.

“Why would you say this?” DuHart's first thought was that she was out of practice, if it was that obvious. Stephanie's second thought was simply dismay.

“Of.” The girl declared. “Captains are of the Navy, not in. You speak like a Federal imposter.”

“I was one.” Stephanie closed her eyes, and began to speak in English. “My job was to play the part of a pirate one day, an activist the next. Subterfuge punctuated with murder. You don't want my new word as a Captain? Fine.” Stephanie looked into the girl's eyes, to be sure she understood. A good Concubine could speak as many languages as possible. “I swear to you on my Missing Husband's soul, I will not harm you, you are safe with me.”

“How was he lost?” The girl asked timidly, also in English.

“A hull breach, in a battle.” DuHart's eyes were already closed, so the burning halls were already there for her.

“Who breached the hull?” The girl asked in a whisper.

A Majestic, The INV Monstrum Provisio. The Portent Foresight. Stephanie had tried to tell herself that they were only there, not at fault, but that left only herself. She had succumb to correcting habitually: Portent Foresight, the damned ship's name was Portent Foresight. The attempted translation she had first found stuck with her, regardless of it's fallacy: Monstrous Providence. Stephanie opened her eyes and locked them with the girl. She was peeking out from behind the sink, curious but still afraid. Some time had passed since the question had been posed.

“I did.” Stephanie admitted, barely more than mouthing the words.

The girl slipped out from behind the sink, and crawled across the floor to DuHart. Tentatively, she reached out and held Stephanie's shoulders.

“Please, I'm sorry. I didn't meant to...” The girl reverted to Latin. “Please don't cry.”

Stephanie brought her hand to her own face and felt the moisture drawing onto her fingers. She hadn't realized.

“Don't apologize, for this. You have nothing to do with this.” Stephanie explained, mostly to her own hand.

“Come to bed, Sir. I will do my best to repair your evening.” The girl pulled at DuHart, trying to help her stand.

“Yes, I-” Stephanie stood then caught herself. “I am... Your services would be wasted tonight, my Lady. I had no intentions of the sort before arriving here, we are but upholding a facade of politeness for my friends.”

The girl led Stephanie to the bed anyway. Without saying anything she laid beside DuHart, who remained seated on the bedside. They said nothing to each other for a while.

“I expected something different, of my first time sending off a Captain.” The girl mused suddenly.

“I hope a dull evening is not too much of a disappointment.” Stephanie apologized.

“Many of my clients wish for this. Sharing a room, conversing.” The girl sighed quietly. “I will admit, I expected a man.” DuHart was about to make a reply, when the girl added the last part of her thought. “Or a woman.”

“I apologize for disappointing you.” Stephanie muttered, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable in her own skin again.

The girl's hand slid around DuHart from behind, she caressed Stephanie's waist, then settled her fingers onto the inside of her thigh. Stephanie felt her sit up and approach, leaning lightly against her.

“I feel you may have misunderstood me.” She whispered into Stephanie's ear, causing a tingle to arc through her.

DuHart grabbed her wrist, trying not to be forceful. She pulled the her hand out of her crotch, then turned to face the girl, keeping her expression stern. It was impossible to see Stephanie DuHart blushing. With the girl's hand gone, Stephanie felt colder.

“No, please.” Stephanie shook her head. “Don't.”

He hadn't been the only one to do so, but Stephanie's Husband had been the only person she allowed to touch her, like that. DuHart was clinging to his memory, by defending the sanctity of his place with her.

“As you wish, Captain.” The girl replied, retrieving her hand.

She remained leaning against DuHart, very gently caressing her shoulder. Stephanie couldn't bring herself to tell the girl to stop.

“You worry.” The girl declared suddenly.

“What are you saying?” DuHart questioned her.

“You have knots upon knots, all along your shoulders.” The girl pressed tenderly into one to demonstrate.

“Would you-” Instead of letting the Captain finish, the girl put her fingers into the muscle.

“Ahh.” DuHart exclaimed. “That's... Good.” She admitted, much more quietly.

“Lay down.” The Concubine commanded.

Stephanie DuHart had never been very good at taking orders. She had been informed of this many times. Stephanie knew that she much preferred to issue them, at the least. She preferred not to dwell on why this was the case, she preferred to look ahead. Stephanie was prostrate on the mattress before she realized. The girl pulled her uniform jacket off and sat, straddling Stephanie's legs.

With deft hands the Concubine throttled pains off of DuHart's back. At first she had been able to remain silent, but as the girl's pressure mounted Stephanie let out a pair of cries, then buried her face into the pillow to quiet herself.

She had DuHart's shoulders under submission, so the girl began to work on her neck. Her hands began the process of melting away Stephanie's spine. Through the thin fabric of DuHart's shirt, the girl was carefully tweaking each of her vertebrae in turn. As she worked her way inexorably downward, Stephanie was struck with a resurgent worry. With all of her strength, DuHart tried to do something to stop the girl. But in that moment, on that bed, Stephanie was powerless. Her heart pounded as she found that she had no choice but to let the girl continue, fates be damned.

The girl slipped her fingers under DuHart and unclasped her pants. As the hem was pulled down, two things sprung from Stephanie. A fresh flow of tears, and what was left of her tail. Try as she might to do so cleanly, Stephanie had never mastered a way of cutting a hole that would not fray. Having the half-meter that was left run down her pant-leg via the leg of her panties, cut off circulation and Stephanie feared further damage to it. A tiny percentage of her tears were for embarrassment at the sight of her underwear, another tiny percentage was for her childishness.

The girl took in a breath sharply in surprise, then surprised Stephanie. Her fingers returned to the last vertebra they had been working on, and continued. Reaching her hips, the girl crossed her hands on a pressure point and leaned into Stephanie, once on each side. Then continued to Stephanie's First tailbone, and used her thumbs to adjust it. The girl moved on to Stephanie's Second tailbone, and quickly adapted her technique to an un-tethered joint. By Stephanie's Third tailbone the girl seemed to have her stride. Her hands didn't hesitate over the Twelfth or Thirteenth tailbones, the scarred and fur-less stump.

The girl finished the massage by running her hands from the nape of Stephanie's neck to what was now the tip of her tail. After her first attempt, the girl chewed her lip and decided to remove DuHart's shirt. Her fingers expertly dealt with the buttons between Stephanie and the mattress, the shirt was slid off of her into the girl's lap.

With her fingernails, the girl settled DuHart's fur. She dragged her fingers down from Stephanie's neck, to the tip of her tail again, then again. Each stroke combing flat more of the fur that had been sent astray by the earlier massage. Stephanie's tears became ones of release.

The girl laid beside DuHart, facing her as she remained buried in the pillow. She edged closer and draped her arm over Stephanie.  DuHart rolled onto her side, and away from the girl, tears still streaming from her eyes, apologies from her lips.

“Don't apologize, you shouldn't have to apologize for crying.” She pulled herself in to DuHart, nestling against her.

“I'm sorry, you are so young.” Stephanie mumbled, her shirt was still around her waist, her pants around her knees.

“I only look young, I am of age.” The girl claimed.

“I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to...” Stephanie found the girl looking through the tears into her eyes.

“Is this your first time with a Pallaca?” She questioned DuHart.

As she let out a sullen nod, Stephanie felt the girl's hand caress her back. The girl then slid her fingers over Stephanie's rear, pinning her tail, and feeling the warmth still resonating from between DuHart's legs.

“No apologies.” The girl was too short to press her lips to Stephanie's, though she tried. “You're welcome.”

Stephanie held the girl's head to her chest with one hand, and her hips against her own with the other, as the Concubine did her work. The girl's free hand snaked it's way under DuHart and her fingers reached the back of her head. With one hand, the girl stroked Stephanie from behind her ears to the base of her tail. With the other hand, the girl caressed another orgasm out of her.

As she shuddered, Stephanie's grip on the girl tightened and she rolled over, pinning her against the bed. The girl grasped at one of DuHart's ears with one of her hands, her other hand remained hard at work.

“Aaarr-” Stephanie warbled.

The girl began to rub Stephanie's ear between her thumb and middle finger. Inside of her panties, the girl's other hand began to do the same thing to Stephanie's clitoris. DuHart thrust her hips into the girl involuntarily, gasping as she pressed her down. Then DuHart recoiled from her, scrambling across the mattress and out of the girl's hands. Where she lay exposed now that DuHart was no longer on top of her, the girl's back was arched away from the bed. Both of her hands reaching out, her left leg shuddering. Stephanie could smell the girl's pleasure.

DuHart's heart beat so quickly it hurt as she looked at the girl, and her hands grasping at the air between them. Still an explorer to her own feelings, Stephanie leaned over at took one of the girl's hands into her own. With a final shudder, the girl's legs went weak. But her grip on DuHart's hand tightened, and she pulled herself up from the mattress. Stephanie had just noticed how wet the her fingers were, when the girl's tongue found it's way into her mouth.

Her free hand pulled at Stephanie's shoulder for a better position. After a passing moment of indecision, DuHart put her remaining palm underneath the girl and lifted her. With better leverage, the girl's tongue explored deeper, and found the barbs covering most of Stephanie's. The girl's legs wrapped around DuHart, and she began once more to massage Stephanie's ear.

As their tongues danced, Stephanie found that her mind was free of her worries and abandoned by her horrors. As the girl's legs found strength and tightened about her waist, Stephanie couldn't gather the ire to hate herself. Just for a fleeting moment, she didn't feel like she had killed him anymore. Stephanie found that she was occupied instead with awe; as the girl sat in DuHart's hand, she was soaking it.

- 3 -

Having exhausted themselves, they lay in the bed together. DuHart gripping her own arms, while the girl clung to her and idly massaged one of her ears. As her breath returned to her, so too did Captain DuHart's realities. She closed her eyes and cringed. The girl continued to play with Stephanie's ear.

“I have made a terrible mistake.” Stephanie muttered to herself.

“By bedding with me?” The girl asked meekly.

“I mean no offense, but yes.” Stephanie replied.

“What do you feel you have done wrong?” The girl was confused.

“My Husband...” Stephanie's voice gave out on her.

“You wear no rings, though. I don't understand.” The girl held DuHart's shoulders as she spoke.

“Tungsten shatters in cryo.” Stephanie showed the girl the faint scar on her finger. It enraged her how quickly her fur was re-growing. “Well, it did under emergency freezing. I believe a commercial pod would not have this flaw. Not unless the ring was frozen for several decades.”

Stephanie had ripped apart the inside of that pod, trying to find even a piece of it. She liked to tell herself that she had inhaled the atoms of tungsten, it seemed romantic. But Stephanie knew that you don't breathe in cryosleep. The ring was most likely evenly distributed amongst each of the droplets of condensation, that had formed when Cael revived her. The same fate had befallen several of the buttons on her old uniform. The girl held Stephanie's hand in both of hers, and leaned against her.

“He sounds like a good man.” The girl's statement received no reply. “ A good man would never wish to see his wife tormented.”

Arrow had told her over and over, they would share command of a Farragut someday. It would be her ship, but he would have to hold command. The only decision he wanted was it's name, she could have everything else. Each time he said it, he would tell her again 'I wish the command could be yours, officially.' Arrow knew that while the red trim of her uniform put her above so much, it held her back from just as many things.

“He would surely have something to say, if he found me in bed with a teenage girl.” Stephanie lamented.

“I am Thirty-Three Sols old, Captain.” The girl smiled into DuHart's surprise, and added. “I apologize for disappointing you.”

“You look... So...” DuHart sputtered.

“Do they not have Progenitor Cells in the Federation?” The girl giggled a little. “It takes work to be as valuable as me.”

“Oh, well... I am still acclimatizing to life in the Imperium.” DuHart started to giggle alongside the girl as she answered.

“I gather life in the Federation is not so... Pleasant, for Trans-Humans.” The girl said. DuHart's tail was no longer a secret, it was clear what the girl referred to.

“My fault.” DuHart answered mechanically, starling herself.

She had thirteen tailbones left, she had come into life with Twenty-Three of them. Ten times, Stephanie had disobeyed them. The most severe transgression had cost a mission, cost lives. The pettiest, was beginning to eat too quickly. She remembered the other eight just as vividly. That attempted meal was the earliest memory she had. The girl looked at her face, darkening.

“Forget I asked, Captain. This is not the place for that, I apologize.” The girl huddled against DuHart, then gently touched her cheek.

“You are right... Must I be, a Captain here?” DuHart wondered aloud.

“No, you mustn't be a thing that you don't want to be, not here. I can help you with that.” The girl explained, bemused.

“Can I be Stephanie, with you?” Captain DuHart asked the Concubine.

“Of course you can, Stephanie.” The girl entwined her fingers with the Captain's.

“Who is Stephanie?” Captain DuHart slowly asked another question. She didn't expect a Concubine to have the wisdom to answer.

“Stephanie is whoever you want her to be, Stephanie.” The girl looked away from DuHart. “You have this power, without me.”

Stephanie embraced the girl, and stroked her hair. Fragrances not unlike a floral display come to Stephanie's nose, as did the lingering scent of lust.  They held each-other for some time, each breath Stephanie took was laden with the smells coming from the girl, and delivered a profound sense of serenity. They both nearly fell asleep there, wrapped in each others arms. But as sleep made an attempt for her, the girl was shocked by the sudden realization of how much time had passed.

“It everything alright?” Stephanie asked her.

“Of course, of course. I may have lingered with you, is all.” The girl dismissed and continued to hold Stephanie.

“No it isn't.” DuHart could not be convinced so easily. To her nose, there were discernible flavours of fear. “Who are you worried about?”

“N-no-one, I think our time together is coming to a close.” The girl was lying, that time had passed and she had missed it.

“That is quite alright, you know you've nothing to fear from me.” DuHart was trying to re-assure the girl. She could tell it was someone else she feared.

“I know.” The girl replied as she climbed off the bed.

DuHart watched the Concubine hurriedly ready herself to leave and collect her possessions from the washroom. Equipped with a most non-demure pair of boots and a small back-pack, the girl made to leave. But something stopped her in the doorway, she turned to Stephanie who was still on the bed.

“Thank you, Stephanie.” She said, without making eye contact, before scurrying out the door.

It took a moment to waft across the room to her. But Stephanie could never mistake the smell that came off the girl as she ran away. DuHart had smelled it too many times to mistake it. She could smell it in her dreams, pouring off of herself. A fleeting wisp of Mortal-Terror crossed Stephanie's nose. Captain DuHart bolted for the door, she almost forgot to pull her pants up.

“Wait!” Stephanie called to her.

“I can't.” The girl sobbed to herself, DuHart hadn't understood the words, but had heard.

“Please, wait just a moment!” Stephanie tried.

“I have no moments!” The girl screamed back, breaking stride just for the fraction of a second it took to blush, before turning away and breaking into a sprint.

Stephanie easily caught up with her, they travelled alongside each other for a few seconds, the girl sprinting while the Trans-Human beside her only jogged, before Stephanie spoke up.

“I could speak like this, if you have little time to spare.” DuHart explained calmly.

“What.” The girl panted. “Do you want?”

“Do you need help?” Stephanie asked, looking at her face as it contorted with emotion.

“No, please no.” A wheeze followed from the girl.

“Give me you hand.” Stephanie reached down and took the girl's hand, not waiting for an answer.

The girl was shocked by Stephanie's strength, and sputtered the words 'Tram Station' when she was asked where she needed to be. Captain DuHart cradled the girl in her arms and sprinted to where she was told to go.

“I can at least help you with this.” Stephanie explained.

The girl thanked her profusely and fought tears. She decided that this woman mustn't know what she was helping her to arrive at. The girl decided that her memories of today would be cherished. DuHart suddenly slowed her pace. The girl was startled by this.

“What am I taking you to.” Stephanie mumbled as she smelled the scent coming off the girl again.

“Nothing, another client. Please let me go, I must hurry.” Fear began to take hold of the girl, it's grip was nearly as strong as Stephanie's.

“No, I won't. Not unless you can tell me what has you so afraid.” Stephanie pulled the girl in her arms closer. “And even then, given your answer, I may not still.”

The girl began to try and explain, rapidly, almost babbling. Stephanie bent down and placed her onto her feet. Then she gripped the girl's hands together in both of her own. The girl calmed a little as she looked into Stephanie's eyes.

“Do you need my help?” The Captain asked the Concubine.

“I must go, I have no time.” The girl found her hands were held tighter.

“As long as I have you, you are under my protection.” Stephanie shook the girl's hands for emphasis. “You are under the personal protection of the Captain of The INV Queentia Iactura. Before I let go, I must be sure: Do you need my help?”

For a girl, the word ended. But, so began a world better than she dared to dream of. It would take her a long time afterwards to begin to feel the change. But, a good Concubine could hide such doubts. Stephanie would never make any mention of it, but one day she would wear a satisfied smile when there was no longer a trace of fear coming from the girl as she awoke.

“I need your help.” The girl told Stephanie.

“Come with me, tell me the name of the brokerage that holds your contract.” DuHart said, beginning to lead the girl back towards the hotel.

“You couldn't afford to.” The girl sputtered, there were many perks to the Imperial Navy but a lavish salary was not one of them.

“Stephanie can't. But I have access to someone else's accounts” The Captain said.

“They are wealthy?” The girl asked.

Arrow had called it their retirement fund, so far all it had done was pay to store a cursed Black Cutter. It was all illegal, kept secret via false names. Arrow had selected the names from a favourite Holo-show of theirs. Stephanie felt ill when she thought of spending a credit of it, until the idea of spending almost all of it at once came to her. Then she could only feel nothing, about the money.

“You have nothing to fear.” Stephanie explained.

- 4 -

Her status now afforded more luxurious transportation, but Stephanie wouldn't accept it. Cael flew the Courier as DuHart sat in the cockpit. The journey to the shipyard would be only a few hours, and neither of them brought much luggage, so the small craft was more than enough. The Imperial Navy had insisted on furnishing her with an escort, two Gutamaya Eagles and five veteran dragoons. Stephanie considered this to be wasteful opulence.

“Captain, there is an outpost in this system, a convenient place to refuel. Shall I set a course?” Theo asked her.

“It is over a hundred light-seconds away, Mister Theo. Do we have enough fuel to make it to the next system?” Captain DuHart replied with her own question.

“Yes. Of course, Captain.” He knew that they wouldn't need to stop for several more jumps.

“Do as you wish, Mister Theo. I trust your judgment.” Captain DuHart trusted Theo's judgment implicitly.

He laid the course in, and pulled away from the star. The wing of three cut through space towards the outpost. Cael took a few minutes of silence to steel himself to ask, he had just purchased those and several more during which they could speak.

“Permission to speak freely, Captain.” Theo asked his commanding officer.

“You have it, Mister Theo.” Captain DuHart answered.

“How was last night?” Cael asked his friend.

“...Memorable.” Stephanie replied, letting out a sigh.

“I assume it must have been.” Theo had looked over the cargo manifests, to insure his Captain forgot nothing. “Did you... Purchase a Pallaca?”

“Yes.” Captain DuHart hadn't prepared a lie, she hadn't expected to need one. So she opted for truth, Theo could be trusted.

“You really are turning over a new leaf.” He smiled. “Good, I'm happy to see you finally allowing yourself some enjoyment out of life.”

“She-” Stephanie put a limit on her openness with Cael, she didn't plan on that either. “I think she should ride in cryo. I didn't want to-” Cael was nodding already.

“Oh, of course. You wouldn't want to be bandying them about. That would be uncouth.” Theo smiled and looked more closely at the console.

“She mentioned this.” Stephanie mumbled.

Cael Theo didn't say anything for a moment, Stephanie took a steadying breath. She had hoped not to have to explain herself to anyone, Theo was thanking his gods he was the one to discover what his Captain had done.

“I am ecstatic to find you assimilating so well Steph... But I must ask.” He was fairly sure already, but needed to see what she would say. “Have you purchased the one, from last night. Or did you find some girl who looks the same?”

“She is the same girl.” DuHart admitted.

“Stephanie...” Cael Theo was being torn apart, but DuHart could only smell his cologne. “You haven't... Do you think you are in love, with this Pallaca?”

The thought was farcical, Theo was momentarily embarrassed to have accused her of it. Then his captain did something he never imagined she could have: Stephanie bit her lip, gripped her arm, and turned away from him. Cael Theo looked at the vulnerable girl sharing the cockpit with him, and longed for her.

“I don't know, Cael. I don't know.” So many things clouded Stephanie's mind, but Theo saw clearly.

His Captain would never love him back, nor would the deaf  ever hear, nor the blind ever see. Stephanie loved the Concubine in the cargo bay. All Cael Theo had left was to instead pray, that this whore did indeed love her back. He would waste no more prayers on himself.

“Be careful Steph. I don't have to warn you about the risks you are taking here, do I?” Cael tried to keep his tone stable.

“Thank you. No, you do not.” Stephanie had unclasped from her seat and snuck up behind him, she hadn't meant to but moved almost silently. “You are a better Tactical Officer than I could have hoped for, Mister Theo.”

Stephanie startled her Tactical Officer by leaning down and embracing him. She told him that he was a better friend than she deserved, as she took in the smell of his cologne. He had gotten it as a gift and worn too much of it the first time. Stephanie had jokingly told him that it would smell nice, if they weren't drowning in it. With better balance, he had made a habit of wearing that scent ever since. Stephanie had been joking, it made him smell like corked wine and burnt metal. But Cael's silliness with perfumes had become as much a part of her picture of him, as his tenacity at battle-stations. After that day, Theo would slowly begin to question why he was still wearing it.

“You needn't mention it, Sir.” Cael Theo buried his emotions under a stoic expression, protocols, and finally his cologne. Unbeknownst to either of them, this final layer was the most effective.

They didn't linger at the outpost. Stephanie was happy to find that there was no major ceremony about the naming of the Majestic. Happier still to learn that she wasn't expected to attend what there was. Her quarters were exactly as she had specified, she had even written a checklist. She didn't know that though, she forgot to make use of her list to verify. She had travelled through the vessel with Cael, leaving him to the officers barracks and continuing to the first deck of the hab-ring. As per design, the first deck was reserved for dignitary quarters, meeting rooms, executive recreational space.

Stephanie would later find that the supposed loneliness of the Captain's Quarters suited her nicely. But first she found a spark of joy when she laid eyes on her Pallaca. The girl stood up and spun about the room, giggling almost madly. She was ecstatic, giddy with relief. All at seeing Stephanie enter the room.

“You word is stronger than chains, the gods sent you.” She told Stephanie as she wiped a tear of joy.

“Did you expect less of me?” Stephanie crossed the room and embraced her.

“I almost expected, someone else to come through that door.” The girl said quietly.

“Who?” Stephanie's question received no answer. “If you tell me, they can be brought to justice.”

“No justice, He has committed no crimes.” The girl looked into Stephanie's pleading eyes. “Please, no more speaking of Him.” She had started to cry.

“No more, you have my word.” Stephanie pulled her close as she wept.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't cry in front of you. I'm sorry.” The girl sobbed.

“Don't do that.” Stephanie blurted out, remembering their first night. “You don't have to apologize for crying, never again.”

“I-I don't?” The girl blinked, and asked, and blinked.

“Ever.” Stephanie whispered into the girl’s ear.

“Do I... Do I have to keep taking... The Progenitor treatments?” The girl very hesitantly asked.

“No.” Stephanie answered suddenly, taking a closer look at the girl. She watched her eyes light up as she added. “You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. You don't even have to stay here. You are free now.”

“Then I am yours.” The girl wrapped her arms around Stephanie and held her as tightly as she could.